Such is the war of Basketball

Back, forth, back, forth
The colours move and dance,
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Feet flash and move
BANG! BANG! BANG!

SCORED!!!
Back forth, back forth
Always moving never still
BANG! BANG! BANG!

Screams echo, cheers and jeers
Flowing sounds move
Round and round and
Upside down

Defensice makes a good attempt
But an infidel sneaks through and
SCORED!!!
Calk on up for the enemy!!
Always moving never still
Back forth, back forth.

Fog of War

These fields are now more red then green
The air thick, so thick you could cut it with a knife
So thick you’re practically blind.
Soldiers call it the fog of war.
Shapes of your friends, comrades, enemies
Blur together, you can’t tall who’s who.
If you shot at one, is he friend or foe?

Taking a deep breath is dangerous
With the gun powder, the fear you can taste,
All of it choking and drowning you
Soldiers call it the fog of war.
There are horrid chemicals in this air
Flowing in and out
Of your lings,
Fetid fumes
Designed
To kill you
Slowly.


HUD

One eye is covered with a green transparent film
Red, yellow, green, black, blue dots
Dancing as you move around.
The red is your enemy
Yellow is your targets
Green is your friendly forces
Blue is the Support from the CIA
Black is your guys on your squad.

The screen has figures floating by,
Obsolete as soon as they hit your screen.
Wind speed, altitude, distance to the targets,
And more
Your Heads Up Display is your map,
Your bible,
Your command,
Your rules,
When you play by the Ghost Recon rules.



What do I have left?

The military men have just left,
My home is cold and empty
Nothing is familiar anymore,
What do I have left?

Your tags hang off my neck.
I rip them off and throw them at the counter
They bounce and land with the
“DO NOT REMOVE” letters up.
What do I have left?

Tears are blinding my sight
Falling down onto the official document
Telling me that you are dead and gone
What do I have left?

I pick up the tags,
The chain running through my fingers
I put them back on the counter
And snap them in half.
What do I have left?

I put the half set back on,
And bend down to pick up the other half
This is what you have left me with.
You tags, broken in half, making it final
That you are dead and gone.
SO WHAT DO I HAVE LEFT?

Finding him
The shots ring past my face,
Deafening blows rain around my head.
I cannot turn back,
And I cannot go forward.
Caught in the middle the coppery smell of reddish fluids, the tangy fear, the sticky sweat
Fill my head as I flash
Left Right behind to cover my six.

My partner has been lost for the past hour and I can’t find him.
He is my brother,
My comrade in arms.
He is the only one I trust absolutely.
I have to keep moving forward. I have to get home.
Suddenly a flash and bang goes off and I’m thrown,
Rag-dollish,
Into a wall.

I have to keep moving forward. I have to get home.
The thought screamed inside my head.
Everything was tinted red,
Bloody red,
And an almost blinding pain when I move my right shoulder.
I can’t comfortably fire my weapon.
I have to keep moving forward. I have to get home.

The monumental struggle to rise,
While all of me screams to just lie down and die
Drains me.
My pale and soot covered face is contorted into pain.
I stagger forward towards home.
No longer do I heel my right arm,
And I refuse to glance down at it.

Almost there. Few more feet.
More shots ring past my fast,
Deafening blows rain around my head.
I cannot turn back,
I can only move forward.
I flash
Left Right behind and fall on my face,
And see my partner,
Wide eyed,
Pale,
Covered in blood,
Dead.