In Barracks
Germany, 1964
In barracks bare of beauty,
I lay restlessly in bed. Around, a rife
of lifeless characters,
from some Saturday charade,
sullenly invite me to their ghastly parade.
I merely pull my blanket higher up
and blatantly yell out "Shaddup!"
A spot of flesh, unknown to sun, itches
so I scratch. Musty curtains run
in dusty ripples on their pulleys.
The room overflows with bullies
but I turn over in my bunk
and choose to spurn,
scratching a spot that doesn't itch.
I glance up; the light bulb top is dirty.
So i reach up, unscrew the bulb,
lay silent in my patch of dark,
and try, vainly, to extinguish
a more persistent spark.
The air around me, reeking of smoke and beer,
is heavy with the weight of discontent.
I lie still, darkly fomenting
an impotent dislike
for atmospheres like this one.
I writhe upon my squeaky cot and dun,
and growl, like some ancient,
burly, and barbaric Hun.
A small important part of me I treasured dies.
Vehemently, I vocalize my intense tension
using interjections "nice people" never mention.
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Submitted on May 01, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 54 sec read
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Quick analysis:
Scheme | ABCDDEEFGHHIJKALMNMOPQRGGSGTGG |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 1,002 |
Words | 183 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 30 |
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"In Barracks" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/75138/in-barracks>.
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