| M*A*S*H POETRY |
| Trapper Trapper is the best Out of the entire MASH cast He loves to drink martinis and chase around the nurses Hawkeye is his buddy and together they play pranks on Margaret, Henry, and Frank He has a wife and two kids Whom he dearly loves From his curly brown hair to his devilish smile He is definitely the greatest He seems like a private guy And never reveals much With his wacky Hawaiian shirts and bright yellow bathrobe He is one of kind Though he left the show After three great seasons He will always be a part of MASH The show was never the same without him So kudos to Trapper and all he has done Because forever he will be my favorite -Trapp |
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| M*A*S*H It's an army show that's fun It lasted 11 seasons before it was done My best friend loves it Now I'm stuck on it It's about some quirky surgeons Who always are crazy And some other dudes who are always lazy There's Hawkeye the prankster And there's Margaret, Frank is hers Trapper is the coolest and Frank is always foolish Henry loves fishing And Klinger is always wishing Radar never pouts And Potter doesn't know what he's about BJ always has fun And Father Mulcahy, I'm almost done These are the main cast Okay I'll make this fast Go watch the show And I'd like you to know That friend converted me So it's time for you Don't go hide in a shoe Sit in front in front of the television nice and tall Just remember MASH stands for Mobile Army Hospital -Trapp |
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| When Will the Fighting End? Why do people have to die? For the sake of power Power, is that all that is important Do countries even care About their precious people? No, they want power Power, the greatest flaw in human nature People are lost because a country wants power So is that all we're here for? To die for our country So it can be more peaceful Or to stop another from becoming powerful? People say war helps us But it only promotes killing Why does it have to come to this? Why does blood have to be shed? Do we always have to be figthing? Do we always have to be killing? Do we always have to be here? Here on this plagued world? When will it end? When will the guns stop shooting? When will the blood stop oozing? When will the men stop dying? When will the calm come? When will the fighting end? -Trapp |
| Klinger Klinger is nuts With no ifs ands or buts He tried to get out in many ways He never quit through all his days He dressed in women's clothes He had a really big nose He tried to get out as a nun Of a Section 8 he saw none He was Lady Liberty for Big Mac He tried getting out in a sack He even tried to eat a jeep With that, he learned, you sow what you reap He tried to pole sit He had a sewing kit He never got out So went on with a pout -Kling |
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| The Story of a Boy Drafted to Korea: A Poem By Cathy W. My best friend and I were inseperable Since we were nine What was mine was his And what was his was mine. Then one day when I was eighteen The Western Union boy came To deliver a telegraph I had been dreading That said "Drafted to Korea" and my name. I ran down the street to tell him about it His mother opened the door Her eyes red and swollen from crying My friend had also been drafted in the war. At least we would be there together Helping each other through Because without him to support me I don't know what I would do. We arrived at boot camp six weeks later Our duffel bags packed and our uniforms pressed We arrived to a Major who only knew how to yell And scream, "The American Army is the best!" At the end of boot camp The Major said, "It's time to go, to go fight. Hold your heads up high For what you are doing is right." He looked us in the eye and stated, "You might very well be saving America, you know. The Commie threat is always present, And you have to defeat this godless foe." We were shipped to Korea Right to the front lines Where we tried to avoid flying bullets And invisible, deadly mines. We were heading into enemy territory The booms and bangs of weapons were too near My buddy was yelling something to me But the cracks of guns was all I could hear. I heard the bullet whiz by I heard the sound of flesh being ripped apart I heard a scream from far away As if it was torn from the heart. I saw my buddy's mouth open wide in shock Why did it have to be him? Why?!? Then I saw the blood pouring out of my chest And realized it was I who would die. He picked me up And dragged me out of the way Then he yelled in my ear "You'll be okay!" He got up and ran to the medics I saw him waving his arms at me The medics began to crawl quickly in my direction Before everything became too blurry to see. I awoke to a strange bumping feeling So I looked down to see only sky Then I heard the sound of chopper blades And knew that to a MASH unit I would fly. I was tired of fighting to stay awake So I surrendered to the sleep The blackness came over me The dark was black and deep. Sometime later I heard a voice from far away "Priority one! I'll take him now! Let's go!" Then the sounds of sirens from ambulances And I slowly opened my eyes to a painful glow. I was on a gurney Being bumped painfully Some corpsman were running toward the OR Where I would have surgery. I screamed in pain it hurt so bad I couldn't stand it---it burned It was eating the flesh of my chest At my scream, a tall man turned. "He's awake, let's get him prepped," The tall, dark-headed man said. "Margaret, will you assist?" Then she looked down and leaned over my head. "He's young, no more than a kid," The nurse said, tears in her eyes. "They keep getting younger," the surgeon replied, "And too many of them die." They put the mask over my mouth And I felt tired again But this darkness was different Than the other had been. It was brighter, there was hope Perhaps I would survive I didn't want to die yet I just wanted to go home alive. I woke up hours later In a room full of cots filled with wounded men There was a heavy weight on my chest But beside me was my old friend. "Hey, buddy!" I managed to strangle out. "What are you doing here?" "I couldn't leave you here not knowing how you were, So I went AWOL," he answered, coming near. "So how are you?" he asked His face full of fear. "Okay, I guess," I told him But his face didn't clear. Did he know something I didn't? Was this something so bad that he didn't want to tell me? Was I dying? What could it be? "Tell me the truth," I said, Staring into his face, "Am I really okay? Am I a hopeless case?" "Nah," he answered, Avoiding my eyes "You're lying!" I yelled. I could always tell when he lies. "You'll be just fine. They have the best doctors here. They even have a sign up That says 'Best Care Anywhere.'" I lay back down My chest was so tight I closed my eyes And whispered, "Good night." He grabbed my hand and held it I could feel his sweaty palm Then I drifted into a sleep Where my dreams were anything but calm. The bullets, the cannons, the bombs Everything aimed right at me Then I fell to the ground screaming Because I knew what true pain can be. I awoke with a start But it took longer for my eyes to open They didn't seem to want to work And the heaviness in my chest became a burden. "Doctor," I gasped As he walked by He stopped in front of me And I asked, "Am I going to die?" "What?" he replied, startled by my bluntness. I repeated my question with a sigh And he looked at my chest Then square in the eye. "I won't lie to you," he replied, Serious as can be, "Your condition is very serious, But you won't die on my watch; trust me." "But I'm having trouble breathing. On my chest I can feel a weight. Please, doctor, help me. Help before it's too late." "Let me check you out," The lanky doctor said. "By the way, my name's Hawkeye Pierce," He added as he leaned over me in the bed. I began to reply To tell him my name But suddenly I was coughing uncontrollably And running two nurses came. "Chest tube!" he yelled As he tried desperately to save me. "And get his friend in here!" Then I noticed it was getting hard to see. "We're losing him!" Hawkeye yelled Sounding like he was talking from way up high Was he getting farther away Or was I? I could hear my buddy Or at least I think it was he "Hang on!" he was pleading "Stay with me! Don't leave me!" But I could feel myself being pulled To a warm and fuzzy place Like a tunnel with a light at the end And there were tears coming down my face. For a split second I was back I was floating above my body Hawkeye had tears in his eyes As he desperately tried to revive me. The nurse was shaking her head sadly "He's gone, doctor," she said And her voice seemed to echo My buddy stared at her. "He can't be dead!" "Goodbye," I whispered as I floated upward I addressed my best buddy before I floated away, "Tell my parents that I love them when you get home, And thank you, buddy, for being there for me every single day." "And Hawkeye, don't blame yourself," I had to add. "Blame the guns and the senseless killing. I shouldn't have been here, but at home with mom and dad." And I floated up and away But the last sounds I heard Were the sounds of weeping For yet another death that had occurred. THE END |