It’s Forbidden to Call it War
It’s forbidden to call it war.
We’re here to liberate you;
ignore the glide bombs as they roar.
Missiles across the sky still soar
as tanks advance in a long queue,
it’s forbidden to call it war.
We’re not here to settle an old score
nor about to give you your due;
ignore the glide bombs as they roar.
The wreckage, the cries, all the gore,
a tragedy, sadly not new;
it’s forbidden to call it war.
The command’s been given before
by a despot, hiding from view;
ignore the glide bombs as they roar.
Ever closer come the death corps
intent on their murderous coup;
ignore the glide bombs as they roar.
It’s forbidden to call it war.
Roger Bonner is a writer based in Basel, Switzerland. His work appears or is forthcoming in The American Journal of Poetry, Snakeskin, The High Window, Lighten Up Online, among others. His poem Ocean Days was longlisted for the Fish Poetry Prize 2025. He also writes short plays. You can find him at BlueSky: @bonnerr.bsky.social