the Blacklight Arrow

David Blacker’s Blog

Arms

Nikki walked to the hall carrying the weapon. He’d not held a gun in more than a month, not since he’d carried Thorvald’s. The heft in his hand, heavy with purpose, brought images bursting out of his fingers and arm. Gripping the rifle, he felt he’d grasped again a link in an endless, evil chain, a succession of guns, swords, knives, arrows, spears, clubs — weapons extending backward and forward into time. He saw bodies scattered everywhere, ten billion bodies lying across time, across an eternal barbed-wire fence. He held the rifle away from him. Look at this thing. Metal and wood, that’s all it is. But it’s also a door, an opening that the devil and death and all that hates man and life can march through. Amazing what this thing can do, amazing what we’ll do with it in our hands.
David Robbins. The War of the Rats

86010131Gold is for the mistress — silver for the maid —
Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade.
“Good!” said the Baron, sitting in his hall,
“But iron — cold iron — is master of them all.”

— from Rudyard Kipling’s Cold Iron

The man fires a rifle for many years, and he goes to war, and afterwards he turns the rifle in at the armory and he believes he’s finished with the rifle. But no matter what else he might do with his hands — love a woman, build a house, change his son’s diaper — his hands remember the rifle and the power that rifle proffered. The cold weight, the buttstock in the shoulder, the sexy slope and fall of the triggerguard. Where do rifles come from? the man’s son asks.

The rifle stinks like wet earth, like from where it came before being melted and moulded into that sticklike form.
Anthony Swofford. Jarhead

A man must have a weapon. He may be without a woman, without a tent or a tribe, and even without a horse. But he must have a weapon.
Louis de Wohl. Throne of the World

A strong body makes the mind strong. As to the species of exercises, I advise the gun. While this gives a moderate exercise to the body, it gives boldness, enterprise and independence to the mind… Let your gun therefore be the constant companion of your walks.
Thomas Jefferson

We may find in the long run that tinned food is a deadlier weapon than the machine-gun.
George Orwell. The Road to Wigan Pier

The sword the fair one gave me
I raise with my left hand,
Like Tyr among the immortals.
The serpent has won back its sting.

Frans Bengtsson. The Long Ships

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1 Comment »

  1. POEM IN HONOR OF PFC DAVIS K.I.A. 29March2012 Maiwand, Afghanistan
    SURVIVED BY HIS WIFE AND NOW NEWBORN SON
    “BLOOD OF MY BROTHER”

    A WARRIOR LIVES WITH TRUTHS, THAT FEW WILL EVER KNOW
    IN THE HEAT OF BATTLE, FACING VIOLENT FOE
    THAT THE TIME MAY COME, WITH TEARS FROM YOUR MOTHER,
    WHEN YOU MUST GIVE ALL, O BLOOD OF MY BROTHER

    AND THIS YOU HAVE DONE, WITH ALL VALOR AND MIGHT
    ON AN AIR ASSAULT MISSION WITH INFIL AT NIGHT
    THE FOLLOWING DAY, WHEN THE BULLETS DID FLY
    LET’S GIVE ‘EM HELL, WAS YOUR BATTLE CRY
    O BLOOD OF MY BROTHER

    TO AMERICA SO NEAR, SO DEAR AND SO FAR
    REMEMBER THIS DAY, FOR US IT WAS HARD
    WHEN YOU SEE THE FLAG ALL TATTERED AND TORN
    REMEMBER THE ONE’S WHO’LL NEVER SEEN THEIR UNBORN
    O BLOOD OF MY BROTHER

    TO DAVIS OUR FRIEND, OUR BROTHER OUR BATTLE
    FOREVER AN APOCALPYSE HORSEMAN IN SADDLE
    FOREVER YOU WILL LIVE IN OUR HEARTS AND OUR SOULS
    REST NOW WITH JESUS, NO MORE FOX HOLES
    O BLOOD OF MY BROTHER

    AND TO THE ENEMY WE’LL RUN WITH RAGE IN OUR EYES
    TIL’ WE KILL ALL WE CAN AND SPARE NOT FOR THEIR CRIES
    THEN THEY WILL KNOW, THESE TRUTHS LIKE NO OTHER
    WE WILL AVENGE OUR FRIEND, AND GET BLOOD FOR OUR BROTHER

    By:Spc Patterson, Jonathan
    82nd Airborne
    4-73 CAV Recon
    Apocalypse Troop
    Mortar Platoon

    Comment by Spc.Patterson, Jonathan | July 19, 2012 | Reply


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