An Intro
When I was in high school, my brain was a fountain of poetry. I wrote poems about everything. Things that bothered me, events in the news, things that made me angry, or things that gave me joy. I had files and files of poems, limericks, haikus… you name it, I probably wrote it. Then, that well seemed to dry up. Especially after I graduated college. I got caught up in the many struggles of a young adult trying to establish herself, and as the years went by, I stopped trying.
After over a decade of being dormant, I recently decided to try tapping into that well again. With some fresh digging (and some magnificent inspiration from the beautiful poems I have seen from many of you), it turns out my poetry well has not run dry at all. Because after a few short poems to get my groove back, out spilled what I like to call my “Poem Epic” – a series of twenty-one poems split into three parts – World War II (Part I), World War I (Part II), and the Civil War (Part III). Each part has seven poems each, written from the point of view of every-day soldiers and civilians who were killed in these conflicts. Although the people in this epic are technically fictional, the poems are based on tragically true scenarios that played out time and again on the battlefields. These are the forgotten people, who I feel would want more than anything to be remembered.
The passion for military history, and preserving the memory of these struggles of the past, runs deep in my veins. So, I am very excited to share with you the first segment of Part I of the Poem Epic – “Let Me Tell You How I Died.” More segments will follow in the coming weeks and months, between other posts that I am working on for you. I do so hope you enjoy it.
M.B. Henry
LET ME TELL YOU HOW I DIED
PART I – SEGMENT 1
The London Blitz
I see a dark room, with a flickering light
I hear a loud thunder, I can feel the fright
Things in the room, they start to rattle
Outside, I hear the sounds of battle
The planes fly over, they drop their pay load
The whole world rumbles, things explode
I try to pretend that I’m safe in this room
But I know any moment, I could meet my doom
It’s underground, stone walls, the doors are closed
People around me wonder in their night clothes
The dim light above us flickers and hums
My heart beats heavy, like the beat of war drums
Someone cries out, “please let them pass”
Then a loud explosion, shattering glass
That went off close, the people shout
The light above flickers, and then goes out
Then there is darkness, everything is black
My soul leaves the body, it will never come back
My body entombed in brick and stone
Where I died under London, at night, and alone
To Be Continued…