Tuesday, November 3, 2009

the soldier who stood

the soldier who stood

she was a mother of three
homecoming queen from lubbock, texas
squeezed into fatiques
when the factory outsourced to china
darren never intended to marry
beer money was hard to come by
and he never loved
the kids anyway

the promise of money and college
training and hope
outweighed the guilty pain of burdening
her parents
with three children now perfectly excused
for future resentments and therapy

the desert sunsets were familiar
could have easily been lubbock
on a wind-dry saturday evening
it was the oil from the rifles
replacing finger-nail polish
the smell of warm blood replacing
the sting of burnt toast
and runny eggs

the mine tripped on her 64th day
inferno-spread among the caravan
those in the company able to flee
the flames
got picked one by one by sniper fire
crumpled, smoking, staring

the soldier who stood
radioed command with a texas drawl
and a mothers calm
upon her honorable discharge she flew
immediately back to the states
joyful and anxious for dirty diapers,
texas nights
and red shoe polish


Written by : Derek Richards

After performing for years, as both a musician and poet, in and around the Boston area,
Derek Richards has recently decided to begin submitting his work for publication. So
far he has been accepted for publication in Ghoti Magazine, Lung, MediaVirus, Word Riot, Right Hand Pointing, Tinfoildresses, The Legendary, Breadcrumb Scabs, Shoots
and Vines, Cantaraville, Soundzine, The Centrifugal Eye, Strong Verse, Underground Voices, River Poets Journal and Halfway Down the Stairs. His poetry aims to be direct and honest, brilliant and lucrative. He is currently residing in Gloucester, Mass., happily engaged and cleaning windows for a living.