A POEM ABOUT RIFLES


What are rifles for
for shooting or stabbing?
You might have noticed
the bayonet that glitters
at the touch of sunlight.

In this busy corner
a still soldier stands
with a firm hand
on his raised rifle.
We could ask him.

But he has a watchful eye
on the passers-by.
Perhaps
not this very moment
but anytime
he might shoot a young lad,
a verti-clad grey-haired old man,
a schoolboy
or anybody for that matter.
It isn’t quite advisable to ask him.

We might ask
an old Jap soldier of world war II
with creased forehead
and blood-stained memories
he would say-
“No fun in
shooting at unarmed people.
one gets tired of it.
moreover, against women and children
the bayonet
is a good change.”

Any soldier
Sinhalese,Tamil,Japanese or German
starts a life-long relationship with his rifle.

Look at that soldier in the corner
or his friends that follow and you’ll believe it.
They fondle it like
a pet lamb or a lovely dove.

As he pulls the trigger
you might think
he is very faithful to his government.
It isn’t so.
All the allowances and incentives
he receives won’t make him
stay here for long.

••••••••


-Cheran