A Bloody Thank You

It’s fitting that I watched the film 1917 right before I released DFP’s third release for National Poetry Month…

THANK YOU, MR PRESIDENT by Bleeding Heart Poet

cover by Dillinger

Bleeding Heart Poet takes you to another time and place, drawing you into lives ravaged by war in a land where voices are seldom heard from or even heard at all. Letters as poetry or poetry as letters to a certain “president”…war, propaganda, geopolitical manipulation? What is it all good for?

Watching 1917 after editing this, I thought about war…yes, it’s violent and people die and savagery reigns but it’s all based on mythical concepts…tribalism, the religion of economics, the unnecessary struggle for resources , masses of land divided by flags which is just another artificial barrier between general human connection. It breeds societal discontent, encourages blind hatred outside one’s circumstances circumventing the shift from bettering one’s own realm of existence , it is a force of humanitarian dismantlement accompanied by horrific acts placed not only on those in combat but the civilian populous as well but it’s alright as long as we are distant and it’s not us, just the enemy who isn’t like us being manipulated by a so-called elite minority and sooner or later PTSD becomes a national condition and precarity the ever present status with a constant striving for a dead future never to be as it’s based on an idealized past that was never was…

This is the contemporary version Bleeding Heart Poet gives us from a perspective across the other side of the world…

Bleeding Heart Poet

Thank you, Mr. President

but God did not create this war, where

the dead bodies remain the witness the end of this war


Thank you, Mr. President

for ending this terrifying war with

unknown casualties.

My enemies and I still have nightmares

From trying to understand the meaning of this war

from the beginning…


Thank you, Mr. President

for starting a meaningless war, which ended

In light weighted coffins; and

empty for eight long years.


Thank you, Mr. President

for letting my parents give birth to me in a country

that preferred to offer me a filthy coffin,

instead of a decent room in a house.


Thank you, Mr. President

Today, my father taught me that

I must pick a weapon in tears, to

watch my enemies gunned down by his flowing blood


Thank you, Mr. President

But Freedom and Peace are never partners

Therefore, why do we need to start another war?


Published by Mike Zone

Mike Zone is the former Editor in Chief of Dumpster Fire Press and managing editor of Concrete Mist Press. The author of Screaming in the End: Poems and Stories, Fuck You: A Fucking Poetry Chap, Shedding Dark Places (almost), One Hell of a Muse , as well as coauthor of The Grind and Razorville. A frequent contributor to Alien Buddha Press and Mad Swirl. His work has been featured in: A Thin Slice of Anxiety, Black Shamrock Magazine, Horror Sleaze Trash, Better Than Starbucks, Piker Press, Punk Noir Magazine, Synchronized Chaos, and Cult Culture magazine.

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