Modern poetry for the poet-warrior generation. Simple language, deep concepts. Sample: Dust Storms and Danger Close I see the truth but it is obscured Because the dust storm has rolled in. I know there are enemies waiting nearby But I cannot see what they look like. The sky is orange. The bullets bite at the air near my face. Someone somewhere is shouting. They are coming for me But I do not know from where. All I know is we are much too close to one another. If anyone wanted to come help me If anyone wanted to fight beside me It would be considered Danger Close The term we use for these types of moments Close-quarter fighting as we are So close that the line is blurred Who is who Right or wrong The dust storm hides it all. And if you shoot bullets, you might hit friends But you can't not shoot. Dust storms and danger close Things like this weed out The ones not serious enough To study the subtle differences between friend and foe To stay long enough for the storm to roll through So that clarity is restored. All dust eventually settles after all And danger close situations Do not last forever. Thank God for that. -Eli War poems & stories--honest and beautiful--words crafted from over a decade of desert deployments. A look inside the mind of a desert veteran, from Boot Camp, to 13 deployments, to coming home. "The much-needed voice for a new generation of veterans from the Desert Wars--as this generation takes a step back from almost two decades of war, they will need a way to process. They will need a way to heal. They will need a way to be represented. These poems and stories are all these things." Award-winning author Eli Gardner is back with a second collection of military poems and stories, with special guest contributors--veteran authors from The Dead Reckoning Collective. 25% of proceeds donated to rotating list of veteran non-profits. Check out her first collection, Hookah Smoke and Hellfire: Poems from War, and her award-winning novel, 1000 Nights: Death's Love Letter to Afghanistan. Sample 2 Culture Shock We landed in Afghanistan And sat through a long in-processing brief. The blood vessels on my shoulders Were literally burst open From the thick straps and heavy weight Of hauling bags of equipment Downrange On my tiny frame. We waited in a line to collect our bags Let security forces dump them and sort through them To make sure we didn't bring in contraband Porn. Alcohol. Weapons. Someone had warned me they would do this So I had my bras and tampons Shoved down deep into a corner Terrified at the thought Of the whole crowd of men seeing them Back when I cared about things like that Back before I stopped making apologies for my gender. Someone was there to meet us at the terminal. Someone was there to ensure We didn't stroke out from culture shock For people like me For first timers. Landing in a desert warzone at twilight With a sandstorm enroute, sitting heavy in the air So thick and orange in the glow of the streetlamps That I felt like I had landed on Mars. We got in their 4runner to drive to chow As base was much too large to walk all the way round I stared out the window as they turned Down a spiderweb labyrinth of hazy dusty streets. They pointed out this and that as if we would remember Here is the armory. (continued in book)
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