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In Troubled Times
In Troubled Times
In Troubled Times
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In Troubled Times

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An initial reading of this collection could suggest that primarily hate motivates these writings. Further thought may generate the question: what is hated? The answer is that the author hates what threatens what he loves. Then it is seen that love is really the underlying motive. Expressing sometimes belligerent tones, these outspoken, mostly rhyming verse-poems may reinforce and gladden some of the personal sentiments of those who value fighting for the West.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateMay 1, 2013
ISBN9781481747509
In Troubled Times
Author

David Rosenfeld

David Rosenfeld lives and works in Orange County, California. There, he participates in local poetry readings. He is a graduate of UC Berkeley.

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    In Troubled Times - David Rosenfeld

    IN TROUBLED TIMES

    And these are troubled times, my dear;

    Bereft its offing falls the sun.

    Heart of darkness, night I fear;

    Nightmare wakens all to one.

    The throats of death can rasp my name

    And clanging hands ring hard the knell;

    But onward will I march the same,

    If march need be the road to Hell.

    In battle flame I take my thirst

    For blood of evil, foe men nigh;

    Pierce their beating hearts and burst

    Their brains in spasm to the eye.

    Shattered skull I catch, and gleams

    Its white, dull shine beneath the sky.

    Former life now drips the stream

    Of he who challenged me to die.

    Surrounded now on every side,

    I see the waves of dark hordes break

    Their ranks and charge, but do abide

    My weapon and the stand I take.

    One by one, my comrades fall

    Beneath the withering combat knife

    Until at last they are gone, all,

    And I the last remaining life.

    And these are troubled times, my dear,

    To see the odds I face alone;

    But later, when the field is clear,

    You’ll know what no one else had known.

    So long as victory remains

    A possible solution for

    The trouble that I take the pains

    To fight with, then I will make war.

    DUTY

    The vicious chew their meat but raw;

    They gnash their teeth upon the bones.

    They trade nothing of friendship’s draw,

    But fill life with dread graves alone.

    About the flesh of fresh-carved kills,

    Blood stains hands and drips from jaws;

    These animalistic cannibals

    Feed off fellowmen in their maws.

    Far from this foul grasping creed,

    I hoist my ax, I spur my steed,

    And take to battle against those men

    Whose silhouettes deserve no pen.

    Down with one sure hammer blow,

    I smash the skull in of my foe.

    THE PARANOID VOICE OF REASON

    Terror to Tehran!

    Irradiate Iran!

    Crisply burn

    To cinders bright

    Persia’s vain,

    Inglorious might.

    Burrow deep

    Into the keep!

    Pray why build

    Reactors now,

    With plenty of oil

    In the ground?

    There can be

    But one main purpose:

    To make a power

    To usurp us.

    And who are we?

    Democracy—

    Freedom-loving

    Liberty.

    And what is he?

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