Bugle for the Dead

Bugle for the Dead

By Mahbubul Karim (Sohel)

Only the tattering rattle of stuttering guns

Pop! Pop! Pop!

Where is the Imam? Where is the Bishop?

The schoolteacher has fled as well as the nuns

The night sky enlightened by flying missile

And there was churning burning fissile

Whoosh! There goes one more life

The bones are scattered among a puddle

Crawling ants shift through the meaty muddle

The bloody meat and open wounds of the dead

And the dying still groaning from gushing dread

Oh! the laughter of the leaders and charlatans

They are twisting fingers for the sake of peace

From the podium comes gobble hobble chum

Lyrical oration are babbled with ease

Soothing talks to cover the muddle and puddle

Meaty muddle are faraway in the remote desert

Or in the middle of urban warfare among the child

The mothers are blind and fathers are splattered

Their free roaming eyes and meaty muddle

Are shifted through by the crawling ants

The ether propagates the conservative rants

Whew! The blowing up of tanks and cattle

Ships, goats, fatty chickens are roasted and toasted

In the shingle rooftop of elderly the windows rattle

War’s drumbeat and shouting clout are already boasted

Marching on, marching on, the brave soldiers with bayonets

Helmets dripped with victory blood of the enemy

Hats go off, balloons fly off, and crackling sinister clarinets

Play the bugle for the dead, and color viscera for busty mummy

Published by the Poets Against the War