The Man I Killed

The Man I Killed

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WpMetadataReadMatureComplete Tue, Sep 22, 2020<5 mins
This is a blackout poem, which is when a poet takes a marker (usually black marker) to already established text-like in a newspaper-and starts redacting words until a poem is formed. The key thing with a blackout poem is that the text AND redacted text form a sort of visual poem. This poem is to represent a chapter called "The Man I Killed" in the novel, "The Things They Carried" by Tim O'Brien. A man named Kiowa, killed a man. A citizen and a soldier of the village of My Khe. He laments over this repeatedly in the chapter, constantly repeating to himself what he had done to this man, while trying to get him to look away. This poem is meant to be from Kiowa's eyes. It is his imagination and how he is coping with the trauma. Picturing how the man would've been if he were still alive, if Kiowa had never come to Vietnam. Although his mind reiterates the true damage he caused. I just put the words together in a paragraph rather than they're normal placement apart upon a blackened out page.
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It was a dark cold night-the night where the birds lay dead on the cold ground, listening in to the deceased whispers. This is the night where blood was once spilled. Jeremy hid behind a tree, holding on his thigh-his thigh was bleeding as he got stabbed. Jeremy looked at his wound, cursing under his breath. Jeremy looked around to see if anyone was nearby, there wasn't anyone nearby but he could hear the screaming of his pals. He could do nothing but to weep, he got out of his hiding spot and went deeper into the woods. He was wincing in pain as he dragged his injured leg. It was dark, too dark to the point even the moonlight couldn't provide light. Jeremy tripped over a tree root, he winced in pain, squeezing his injured thigh in pain. He soon heard a twig being snapped close to him. He pulled himself together, getting back on his feet. Dragging his leg once more. This time he raised the pace, panicking as he knew that he was being followed. He soon came across an abandoned truck that was in a small field. He smiled in relief, getting inside of the truck. He heard movement from his right, seeing a silhouette of a being that was coming closer to him. He panicked, climbing to the other seat to close the door. Once the door was closed, he locked the doors-backing away after. The door handle was being pulled aggressively but soon stopped. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around his thigh, he winced in pain as he made it tight. He looked around the truck, trying not to move too much. He eventually found a pen and a piece of paper. He started writing on it as a way to let anyone who came to the amusement park to leave immediately. first chapter of "The Drafted Reality and Dreams" has been rewritten! it's a bit shorter and has the same details just like the first chapter originally did. ⚠️ !This novel includes drugs, murder/murderers, cussing, suicide! ⚠️ [Draft] - No Proofreading or editing.

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