Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome is Not a Virus
Poem by Jeral Williams
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Older men declare war. But it is the youth that must fight and die.
— Herbert Hoover
Age 18: enlistment too young to buy cigarettes, too young to buy booze old enough to be taught to kill reveille, up early, tuck your corners, march, jog, crawl, climb, sit-ups, push-ups, pull-ups, lift, throw fly the drone, align the target, press the button ready, aim, fire–guns, mortars, artillery, missiles, rockets, bombs Yes, Sir Lieutenant! Hoorah! Age 19: tour of Duty too young to buy cigarettes, too young to buy booze old enough to kill or be killed targets shooting back bombs, mortars, artillery, missiles, rockets exploding IEDs, booby traps. suicide bombers close calls, noises, smells, lost limbs, lost friends etching images— engraving memories— imprinting emotions Age 20: honorable discharge too young to buy cigarettes, too young to buy booze old enough to remember sights, sounds, carnage, collateral damage eyes, stench, children, cries, weeping, images, memories, emotions invade the day, stir the night cannot un-taught, un-see, un-hear, un-feel what was real
Jeral Williams is a retired professor of psychology and fourth-quarter poet. His first book of poems, Sunset Without Dawn (Negative Capability Press, 2022) was inspired by the tragic death of a daughter. A cancer and stroke survivor, he enjoys writing each day despite the travails of a one-handed typist.
A finely-carved gem of a poem.
Like Denise says, beautiful and succinct -- as well as gut wrenching and timeless. Thank you.