Saturday, March 17, 2012

Dying Tulips

Red tulip petals fall to the ground
Not as precious as the splash of blood on desert sand,
But lovely in their death no less.
This early spring day is so quiet it makes you panic.
The bird chatter so squeaky I see you wince.
I saw you study the warm wind out of the East
And I felt the anxiousness growing in your soul.
The time of year for contact was upon them once again.
And you wanted to go and shout once more
I got your back,
You wanted to return
And finish
And be a part of the final push.
The winter was almost behind them now.
They no longer hunkered.
They no longer bunkered.
They were no longer cold statues in camouflage
Watching sand rifts come and go
Against the walls of empty houses.
The spring was upon them as well
Calling for
A patrol to revolutionize the villages
To win the trust of the poor
And to kill all the others.
My tulips will stop blooming soon
And I will stare into space
Remembering when you helped me plant them.

(First Draft)(For Sgt. Robert Bales)(Just one more comment and I will move on, I promise.)


  1. Much more creative than ever I could be.

  2. i agree with Bill. if this is your first draft, i can't wait to see your final copy. this is truly amazing.

  3. You are so lucky to have Tulip trees- n warmth to grow blooms now.
    I like the intensity of this piece. Sounds like it's more about partnership... than the blooms.

  4. Words fail me - your poem is truly wonderful. Thank you

  5. Oh so beautiful.

  6. Life and death, both are an eternal part of our existence. Hanging the concept on tulips, that's very imaginative.

  7. I love the image of tulips as blood. I was intrigued and had to read it over 3 times before I "got it," I think, the emotional and timely commentary.

  8. this made me weep -


Take your time...take a deep breath...then hit me with your best shot.