My War

My War: David Romtvedt

I refused though somehow ended up
in the Congo where no one cared
that i was a noncombatant. "wrong."
My father said, doubly so - "First
for shrinking your duty and, second,
for refusing to return fire"

"I could not kill a brother." I told him.
"Not everyone is your brother." He returned.
I was sad to again disappoint my father
but felt better for having made my decision.
If there are some who deserve to die,
it's not my hand should do the killing.

Now I work with the volunteers sent round
the world to decommission forgotten
land mines. I'm happy to know that
some casual bather will not lose a leg
because of a past war. Happy, too, that
I can walk safely across the hot sand
and step into the ocean to swim myself.

The past is large and filled with wars.
Some people have favorites. Mine
was the Congo, where I never died.

My War: Gabby Gutman

Not physical, visible or tangible

Understandable or rationalized

But overruling, stressful

Over analyzed and full of neurosis

Channeled from a stubborn over competitive

Driven and determined mind

I have control over it

And I don’t have control over it

The grass is not always greener

And comparisons lead to disappointment

But I can’t not compare

Because what used to be was good

And was is, is sub-par

And so the war escalates

I open the wooden white door every night

And remember the other white door

That lead to laughing

Until tears poured out of my ear

Nurf gun fights, late night peanut butter

Ever-lasting friendships and a new family

They say not to cry because it’s over

But smile because it happened

And this war in my mind consumes me

Every corner I turn, place I go, person I talk to

Memories flood my mind and I’m overcome with sadness

This war is pathetic

But I don’t know how to win