I’m finally back from vacation. We are well but tired… I watched most of the Republican Convention and am in the midst of reviewing the Democratic Convention. I wish more people would watch BOTH sides of the damned “aisle”!
Couldn’t stop thinking about the troops as I watched those foolish delegates in their funny hats, all having fun during what should be a defining moment in politics. So here is my tribute to one selfless servant. Peace, Amy
Nurse in the Field (Afghanistan)
Nine hours into her shift
she steals a moment to smooth
errant hairs, captured and secured by
mock tortoise side combs.
The last wave was
a mind-numbing parade of
the barely living
and the too-soon dead.
Checking the morphine drip on
an amputee, she wonders why
nurses dress in pastel scrubs.
Cruel joke, the blood spatter,
carrying iodine-splattered lost limbs
across to the bins.
She used to count the number
of fingers and toes per shift; something
to divert her mind from the horror.
Now she breathes in madness, exhales exhaustion.
In WWI, they were gassed and blinded.
In the Second, shot or blown to pieces by grenades.
In Nam (where her mom served), they bathed our boys
in the finest toxins Dow and co. could manufacture.
Agent Orange could kick 007’s ass easily, if slowly.
Now men and women are hit by drones, as
stateside geeks “do battle” like a game of Pac-Man.
They cannot be sure of their target other than from
“actionable (questionable) intelligence.” Tonight
it might be a grandmother and her family, or the
piece de resistance of warspeak: “Friendly fire.”
The nurse strips fatigues from a screaming airman.
His legs lie still but arms are flailing like a meth-head.
Restraints: cruel but necessary as she injects morphine.
Evidence of spinal damage, extensive brain trauma…
She croons, “Slooooow down, we’ve gotcha.” Her
honeyed voice seems to sooth him, “You’re gonna
be all ri-” Then the flat line no greased paddles will stir.
She’ll hear five final, strangled exhalations before
her break comes up. A few hours of sleep, and
she’ll emerge looking refreshed, gearing up for
the second-roughest game in Kabul:
Patching up the pawns, gurneyed pieces
from the chess board of battle.
© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For The Sunday Whirl (Wordle is shown below), dverse Open Mic Night, and Sunday Scribblings (the prompt was Soothe). Also at the site where I am always soothed: Poets United.
Sharp Little Pencil 
seingraham
Amy – this is freaking amazing – the fact that it is a wordle, all the more so. I’ve written a ton of “war poetry” but not come close to the power here; a publishable piece I’m betting. Very, very strong.
http://thepoet-tree-house.blogspot.ca/2012/09/last-scene.html
Sherry Blue Sky
This is absolutely fantastic – I breathed in every word, was right there with that heroic young woman and the screaming young men plunged into the reality of war, never evident on the tv screens of the war games they once played at home. I love the tone, the topic, the story – loved every line. Terrific writing, kiddo!
brian miller
counting the fingers and toes to divert her thoughts from the horror…oy…feels all too real that…i was on the ‘war’ path with mine this week as well…nice nod to those that def dont always get the spotlight…still heroes though…
five final strangled exhalations….whew…
and i have watched bits but not all of both conventions…
kaykuala
Now men and women are hit by drones, as
stateside geeks “do battle” like a game of Pac-Man.
They cannot be sure of their target other than from
“actionable (questionable) intelligence.” Tonight
it might be a grandmother and her family, or the
piece de resistance of warspeak: “Friendly fire.”
This seems to be the norm now, send in the drones and hit ‘whatever moves’. The report will state ‘ 5 suspected terrorists killed’ but women and kids were lying dead.on the ground. And ‘friendly fire’ is the most convenient as a cover up for govt soldiers or allied troops killed. And the unsung heroes,the medics get caught in the cross-fire,none the wiser. Your verse tells it all so vividly, Amy.
Welcome back!
Hank
Roger Green
Sorry, I didn’t watch the GOP convention at all, well except 123 minutes, because it would ENRAGE me, and I like my blood pressure just where it is.
leesis
beautiful Amy
knightsheart
Well done with heart!
oncealibrarian
Ever so good.
And the last lines –
Patching up the pawns, gurneyed pieces
from the chess board of battle.
So true!
claudia
oh dang…so hard…you captured the weariness, the horror and ugly face of war..those nurses and doctors in war hospitals are heroes in their own way
vivinfrance
Horror abounds in this power poem: it’s how we should see war, not the glossed over sanitised and politically doctored reports that make the press. As for the blank blank politicos and their cheerleaders – no comment.
hypercryptical
Superb imagery of the horrors, the awfulness of life on the peripheries of the battlefield – one of your best I think Amy.
Anna :o]
Steve King
Amy, Great and much needed perspective on the war. Very powerful composition. Nice work.
julespaige
Humbling. Politics were never my forte. They are a necessary evil? While my own home is politically divided it is one’s duty to stay informed and to be able to agree to disagree. I’ve had and have relatives in our armed forces. I cannot imagine the stories they refuse to share. You have gifted us with a brief glimpse.
I used ‘gassed’ humorously this week:
http://julesgemsandstuff.blogspot.com/2012/09/sw-72-doughboy.html
markwindham
an excellent write Amy. no way around it, war is a horror, played out by young men with noble purpose for old men with often questionable motives.
I cannot force myself to watch either convention. I know neither will change my vote, and I do not really believe either.
http://wp.me/p1ZKiY-2kl
Jae Rose
What a voice you have..and give to others..i always find the term ‘boys’ so telling..dressing nurses like children..non threatening..quiet..as if all that horror will be deflected by pink..jae
Kathy
Some people in that audience of delegates are nurses…or have daughters or mothers who might be nurses….I love your poem about the Florence Nightingales of wars, but I think lighter moments at a convention hide a lot that is going on underneath- and do not negate the honorable, unselfish and caring hearts of those who were called to this profession…and do the work many doctors don’t do anymore, with more responsibility than ever, longer shifts and less staff…..;)
Tumblewords
What a powerful piece. You say a world in these words. I, too, agree this is meant for publication. Try The New Verse News?
Polly Robinson
Welcome back ~ and back with a vengeance ‘eh Amy? Good stuff.
oldegg
War poetry has to be written with realism, anger and sensitivity. This piece achieves these and more. Most important is giving the reader a sense of love and hope and not hate and futility so that blood spilled and lives lost are not in vain. May your words go some way to achieve this.
Sarav
Amy, you are brilliant. Your analogies, your images–such a painful topic, yet one we all need to own. Especially love “breathes in madness, exhales exhaustion” I feel that right in my chest. And the ending line, Patching up the pawns, gurneyed pieces from the chess board of battle–wow, I mean WOW
tigerbrite
Amy this is epic. I mean just so REAL and PAINFUL. It should feature on the front page of every newspaper.
gautami tripathy
It brings out the pain. Touching…
tipsy fingers play footsie
Belva@MainelyMugUps
When I read this piece, I was stunned by the horror of politics. Politicians send people to die in far off lands for causes they don’t understand and for reasons unknown. Both sides of the aisle are clueless. I guarantee they wouldn’t send their own sons and daughters into harms way. Thanks for sharing this!
Renee Espriu
Very intense my friend and so very true.
purplepeninportland
Harrowing, and so sadly truthful.
Lindy Lee
“Patching up the pawns” just about sums the violence for greed cycle;
another excellent expression of human depression, the game we cannot stop playing…