Victory Feast by Robin Lipinski

Before commenting, I'm posting his poem in this topic, so as to have it in front of me to make reference to it.

Victory Feast
by Robin Lipinski

Battlefield strewn with past hope; corpses rotting; wafting out the streams of putrid corruption.
Scenes not unlike the ones before.
The past brought into full recollection for those who had survived past renditions,
only,
this time,
no one,
not one warrior survived.


War machines wound down as their energy sources depleted.
The winds changed, bringing fresh smells to replace foulness bubbling into the atmosphere.
Clothing on the participants still gleaming with rank and insignia,
while in the distance smoke, ever the battle smoke, sought escape from such an arena.


Quiet now this moment in time,
quiet with no thoughts of glory or regret,
quiet with nothing but what one would hear on any given normal day,
quiet in sound but not in movement...


A new attack.
A new army.
Not reinforcemnets as there were no longer any or any need of those as that moment had passed.
Rather,
an army hungry and whose survival depended on this new moment and what would also be the last moment,
the last battle,
as the insects poured forth from the seems in the broken planet,
surging forward to devour,
to conquer,
to eat,
and then they too,
will fade away into quiet.

The End

It is no surprise that I'm impressed with Robin's ability as a poet and his willingness to go places in Truth many are too afraid to confront or exposé.

Robin is a proponent of peace and treating the other guy the way you would want to be treated. He is a master of showing the audience versus telling, so that you "feel" you "see" you "smell" and fully experience the literary canvas he has painted.

In this poem, the poetic descriptions were amazing in that he captured the soul of his poetic story that would have taken a prose writer hundreds of pages to bring to life. The minimal wording he used, while completing this epic poem to the readers satisfaction takes skill and a innate gift that is not learned. And yet with this great gift...he writes, he practices, he observes, he improves - continually.

Many people with God given gifts just glide, sit back and settle for what comes easy to them. But when someone puts hard work, intelligent effort and determination into a special gift...it becomes magic, miraculous, awe inspiring!

What Robin is saying in this poem and I believe I can speak for him without missing his meaning, is that no one wins at external conflicts when a solution can be found with persistent effort.

If you have to fight to defend yourself, your family, your friends and or your country, then you do what you have to do. But when the objective is to hurt, destroy and do harm to your enemies, (by the way, don't you know they WILL fight back) then collateral damage is the result and everyone loses.

In this poem, no one survives except the insects and they will eventually fade when the rotted flesh they feed on turns to dirt.

Shakespeare would have commented, "Gee, I hopeth one day I will writeth so well. Or maybe I should take up rollerblading insteadeth!"

Way to paint, my friend!