The Field Poems of Pvt. Mountain Dew Pt. 1

The following are poems I've written as a re-enactor, primarily with the 33rd Virginia, Co. A, where I'm affectionately known as "Mountain Dew". At the end of the 2010 season, I was named "Company Poet" of the unit and presented with a quill dip pen.

Soul Stitched on a Striped Woolen Sleeve (for Sgt. Murphy)

(By Walter Beck)

“Living the dream, baby!”

He said as he marched

Off with his queen

Of oiled wood and steel.

But queen she may be

His soul lies back at camp.

You could hear it in his voice

On the cold, smoky nights;

No, not in his characters of

The Recruiter

Selling bounties and fresh air,

Nor Belvedere B. Belvedere

Running for congress and promising progress,

But in those moments when he

Wore his heart on his striped woolen sleeve;

When he, the Sergeant, sang Sweet Melodie.

The Dust of Many Moons

(By Walter Beck)

She tells me the dust of the moons knows my name and their hands squeeze my chest as dirt hardens and cakes around my pale leather soles.

She tells me the dust of the moons knows my name and I speak to them as the ash blows from the reed and clay.

She tells me the dust of the moons knows my name and they speak to me as I take a hit and fall in the mud, hearing the words in my head, “à tout le monde, à tous mes amis, je vous aime, je dois partir”.*

*Taken from the chorus of the Megadeth song "A Tout Le Monde"

Two Old Friends

(By Walter Beck)

Two old friends

From the Days of Decadence,

Where the splatter flicks played all night,

Where the smuggled booze flowed like the Wabash.

Two old friends,

Brothers in the White Sash,

Glaring at each other

Across the line of fire

The first sight of each other

In many years

Seen through forty inches of blued steel.

Two old friends

Fell in a glorious staged rush,

Blue and Gray

Separated in one arm’s length.