Kyle MacLeod

HELLO, MY NAME IS JOE

Hello, my name is Joe. In August of 1990 Saddam Hussein invaded the country of Kuwait and shocked the world with its aggressive nature. The United Nations responded with a multi national force of 580,000 strong to defend what they thought was right… I’m going to tell you my story.

I’m just a small town boy from Chare Town Nebraska and I am 19 years old at the time of this story. I’ve recently joined the Army because of the slumping economy in our town… How was I to know that a short time later I would be ripped from everything I thought secure? Yeah, I know… a big sob story right? Right! Well you don’t know how I feel! Have you ever been in a position where everything you hold dear seems lost? Maybe you have and maybe you haven’t but for the first time in my life everything was good. I was making good money in the Army, my family was doing fine and I had a girlfriend I loved very much.

I’ve never been a person to show my emotions, I guess it’s one of my downfalls. I usually write what I am feeling, it means a little more to me this way.

16/88 Heartbreak

We walk down the lonely streets, moonlight in our eyes
No kiss, no last farewell; to show you’re full of pride
You broke my dreams. You shattered me
A glass thrown in the wind
A frail mind, from evil doings
I know not where I’ve been
It was two years for you and me, the time was short and sweet
Torn apart, twisted shouts filled me full of grief
Now too late to show myself, I guess I never will
Bring myself to say to you
Our last, sweet farewell

That was the poem I wrote for my girlfriend just before I left for the Persian Gulf. It was a sad good bye but I guess that’s how war goes.

Day’s seem to drag on forever here. I swear I’ve been here for years now. Yeah of course I have duties and chores but I tell you… it gets real quiet in the desert at night.

I’m not afraid to admit it anymore: I tried suicide. Hey its scary people, when you are about to take your own life in your hands you feel so alone, so selfish but yet you feel so powerful. Everything seems to flash in front of your eyes. You care for nothing, yet you think of everything.

My Last Thoughts

At first the magic, the simmering sunset before the night
At last breath, the stale taste paralyzes your emotion
At first the eyes, the warming of the morning
At last the blood, the fire of the wars
At first glance, nobility with freedom
At last look, the six chambered barrel

The End

The walk of life is short and slow
No purpose here;
The days fall fast as ‘twere dying soldiers
No thoughts now;
The light is dimming, Could this be the end?
It’s so cold.

Well I’m not sure if I’m lucky to be alive or unlucky not to be dead. The bullet that I cherished so secretly failed me, my aim was untrue. I grazed the right side of my skull. It’s kind of funny though… the Army reported it to the media as an accident in “stock duty” Who the hell would I be to stop the report… It just saves me a little embarrassment.

The day I feared the most has already come and gone, I feared the number fifteen. It was like I personified that number into the devil himself. I imagined it as a large black form that was devoid of any particular shape. It let no light come in and let none escape. I asked the camp psychologist about my visions and she said that

“It’s not the number you fear, nor is it the black mass but its happiness”

On my first day my regiment was doing a hit on a town in the North Eastern part of Kuwait. The raid went well but I strayed from my fellow “Dogs of War” and got a bullet wound to my left shoulder. I struggled with my wound to a small shed just left of the combat zone. I opened the door and saw the enemy. We both froze and looked at each other for a few moments; he then beckoned me to come in.

His blood ran all too freely upon the stained floor. I bent down to check his condition and he reached up his arms and said to me
“We are all but brothers in an argument about who is to do the dishes”

The unknown man then chuckled, embraced me… and died silently in my arms.

The Parody of Time

The wisping hands of Death
So close: Can you feel them as well.
The earth quakes sometimes,
Yet my mind so softly sleeps.
When will I awaken?
The velvet sleep is just too relaxing.
Brnnnggg! What alarm? I hear nothing!
I must say this to myself often.
Are the storm clouds finally here,
Or is there sunshine beyond the lies?
I have been told such.
The fates are knocking
But yet where am I, I must remind myself often.
The reckoning is now at hand and both of us are now one
Never again, yet always the same.

His eyes rolled gently up as I closed his lids. I began to cry out loud for I feared for my soul. I knew not why I was truly here but fear welled in my chest. I could here screams of pain and anguish from afar… It was all so confusing.

A hot wind tore through the shed and my feelings were gone. I feared nothing; I hated nothing yet I knew what had taken place. I seemed to float in weightlessness.

The world looked so bloody from where I was sitting. Everything was so clear. I felt a heavy base feeling in my gut and saw myself there… hopeless and helpless. In my hands I clutched a book, so I took of this book and read.

In the Corner of Darkness

I sit alone in the near dark night
Just the shadow, I’ve killed the light,
Laughing quietly I hear myself.
The days grow long, or so it seems,
Takes forever by your dreams,
Drifting slowly I see myself.
My powers gone, my switch turned off,
My mortal shell, all gone but husk.
But I do still live
And though no longer shine
I can’t stop the worms anymore.

I’m just Joe and I write from my grave.