kfg moore

Birthmark

I knew it from the beginning:
Me amniotic-sheen on celandine yellow,
Topped with a bandleader's black oil smear,
An oriental-looking taunt, to vaunt my untimed arrival,
In the teeth of prejudice and loneliness of a youth,
Forced prematurely into man, soldier and father,
And the orange heat of jealousy, that singes all in range

Not the best greetings, I think I thought,
for a new-borne burden, needing much.
But need was also strong in the soldier,
Arm pierced by a clean-through bullet,
Sharp pain and age-old fear suffered in solitude,
For soft and wrapping arms are rare,
Where men foregather for the killing game.

An exclusion that's noticed, I felt, he thought,
Is an exclusion shared, doubled through,
A shrapnel through the sapling, splitting root,
And need was more than love in the soldier,
Heart pierced by a helpless rival,
With pain and primal fear, confused by parenthood,
For good and loving thoughts are rare,
Where men have rivals that they should not kill.

A war that's ended, still brings, I saw,
A new confusion birthed, a conflict forced,
A cropping from the shellfield, blasting ripe,
And force meant more than right in the soldier,
A blitzkrieg on the passive civvy,
Where pain and helpless fear, inflicted unopposed,
Chase sweet and loving thoughts away,
And leave a crater where the heart should be.

© kfg moore