Haiku Challenge (10/6/20)

Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge 326 – Scorch / Shade
The challenge is to create a Haiku containing this week’s words


The shade of those men
Rising from the battlefield
Quenching rage scorched thirst

Too late for the buglers call
Too soon for those that will mourn

                 ©2020 cj holm



The Drum


Image courtesy of LNYDP (London New Year’s Day Parade).

Beat the drum proudly,
Invite the crowd to join the march.
Spread the call to anxious folks,
Soon they will be responding.

Sing old hymns of yesteryear,
That recall historic glories.
Focus thoughts on things they fear,
And play to the mobs’ behaviors’.

Cheer the call of men to war
Praise them for their courage.
March them to their destiny,
On foreign lands, to fame, and glory.

Remember the soft bugle call,
That echoes off cold tombstones.
Grieve for those who fall at war,
They are our wasted souls of anger.

                                            cj holm

Flash Fiction – The Opossum

Thought I would try my hand with a new medium. I have been reading quite a few of these flash fiction efforts and like the way ideas are presented, like personal glimpses of a bigger story.

I am definitely interested in everyone’s reaction to this story

She seemed unsteady tonight. The opossum rubs up against my leg, just as she had for the last two years in this camp. When I reached down to pick her up, my hand came away covered in pus from a wound on her back that had erupted from my touch.

I instinctively knew she would be dead soon, the victim of her primordial urge to fight others of her own kind. Their razor like teeth had punctured her skin and had become a breeding site for the infection that now doomed her to a horrible death within days. With no medicine or antibiotics at my disposal, the only way to help the animal would be to end its suffering quickly.

She had stumbled into my bunk during the first week of my internment, just a small scared animal seeking the warmth and comfort of a bed. We were alike, each lost in our journey, each trying to survive in a new reality. Both of us are ejected from our pouch and now prisoners of this war.

-Clarence Holm

So Many Voices Fell Silent Last Night!

-Clarence Holm
So many voices fell silent last night
Did they feel the pain, did they see the light?
Was there a purpose, was it all planned
It really doesn’t matter – the motive be damned.

From high up above they fell from sight
Was there time to worry, say prayers and recite?
Did the killer tarry before he turned the switch
Or was it just another duty, done without a hitch.

Thousands of body pieces fell to earth from a flight
How in God’s name can that be called a fair fight?
Who made the decision to fire on a plane?
To act so heartless, and with complete disdain.

Our world is poorer because of last night
Another piece of freedom shredded in a proxy fight.
A senseless battle with no winners, nay no victors stand in sight
Just 300 bodies falling homeward, through the deep blue night.