Two of the most powerful relationships humans can have are love relationships and those based on war. Whether caused by hate, politics, geographical disputes, or something else, war is hell. William Tecumseh Sherman reminded us of that.

Of course, anyone who has been in love knows that love, too, has its hells. That's not to say there isn't an upside. But we tend to gloss over the downsides of love and keep the pleasant memories. We do just the opposite with war. For all its hell, it has its benefits.

Image from Pixabay.

I wrote this poem in June 2015. At that time, I was in an Iraqi desert wishing I was home with my wife. We had celebrated our first anniversary just eight months prior, almost by proxy as I was at Fort Hood, Texas preparing for my year-long tour of duty with Operation Iraqi Freedom. It was a war I neither wanted nor supported, but I had volunteered to serve in the Texas Army National Guard. My number was called, so I did the honorable thing and served my country. I resigned the following December when my unit returned home.

"Love and War" is one of the first poems I had published among those I wrote that year. It won third place in an online contest and continues to linger.

I can't say this is my best poem. There are things I like about it and things I'd change. But poets, like actors and musicians, don't get to choose which parts of their work become others' favorites. It's best just to let them stand on their own, like children, and rise or fall on their own merits.

_{Cover art by
David Anderson}

You may notice that I have made a few modifications to it since initial publication. They are too minor to mention, but I state it for the benefit of those who would notice.

If you like this poem and want to read more from this period of my life, "Rumsfeld's Sandbox" is available at Amazon, even if it does have a crappy cover. I need to update my sales page; I've taken the Rumsfeld's Sandbox website off line, but I think you'll love the poems, and I'd be honored for you to read them.

Love and War

All is fair in love and war, they say;
But I am not so sure.
When love hurts it does not kill.
When she maims
She leaves a little something intact;
Though hearts break they can mend.
Time heals all wounds
Except those of war.
When the pain subsides, a scar still marks
Both body and soul.

The greatest battlefield is the human heart,
Moist and fallow and dry
Depending on the season.
Harvests come and go
Just as soldiers on the path,
But little is ever said of a lifetime.

Generals, and privates too, have their petty loves.
Warriors know the depth of loss,
The pain of wanting to be free.
Let Chalabi live, they say;
So much depends on his breath.
But Patrick Henry may die.
And no one loves his country without injury.
Betrayal begins where love and war unite
And ends when bombs begin to fall.
Sometimes knowing is too late.

Give me your eyes and ears,
Lend me your broken heart.
Trade your weapon for an arsenal
Or a stainless steel vessel of love
To guard your palace of peace.
If war be like love and love be like war,
Give me love. Give me just and total love.