tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post8987384715412837322..comments2024-03-28T03:57:19.609+00:00Comments on WARpoetrywritersZONE: Remembrance PoetryWARpoetrywritersZONEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14831970367680163211noreply@blogger.comBlogger47125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-57286013243312440392024-02-19T00:00:38.365+00:002024-02-19T00:00:38.365+00:00I love this content, thanks for uploading it.I love this content, thanks for uploading it.tradie trailershttps://www.basictrailers.com.au/noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-53437099894404009952024-02-07T04:53:46.709+00:002024-02-07T04:53:46.709+00:00It’s really a great and helpful piece of informati...It’s really a great and helpful piece of information. edwardsrailcar.comhttps://edwardsrailcar.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-41560652414966329232024-02-07T04:53:27.408+00:002024-02-07T04:53:27.408+00:00Much obliged to you and sitting tight for your new...Much obliged to you and sitting tight for your new postcasinosite.zonehttps://www.casinosite.zonenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-75083357094984857272024-02-07T04:53:02.524+00:002024-02-07T04:53:02.524+00:00Extremely decent blog and articles. 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This can help you learn more about its mission, members, and any contributions to the field of war poetry and writing.<br /><a href="attorney for contract disputes" rel="nofollow">https://srislawyer.com/attorney-for-contract-disputes/</a>johnscenahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04647849374537807725noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-14177724603578744022023-10-13T13:44:37.125+01:002023-10-13T13:44:37.125+01:00He always moved with purpose; he didn't let hi...He always moved with purpose; he didn't let his youthful energy, which might kill you swiftly and wastefully, waste away from the families who, thankfully, would never learn the truth and who would believe what they were told.........<a href="https://srislawyer.com/protective-order-virginia-file-protective-order-va-lawyer/" rel="nofollow"> amend preliminary protective order virginia</a><br /><a href="https://srislawyer.com/protective-order-virginia-file-protective-order-va-lawyer/" rel="nofollow"> ex parte protective order virginia</a><br />shofialisahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00073852987182473787noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-92106571820511697762023-09-29T08:54:35.979+01:002023-09-29T08:54:35.979+01:00It's always helpful to read through content fr...It's always helpful to read through content from<br />other authors and practice something from other sites.<a href="https://srislaw.com/quick-divorce-in-new-york-state/" rel="nofollow">Quick Divorce in New York State</a>raelynnhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15898568167847014601noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-59996885658749460882023-07-13T04:30:06.797+01:002023-07-13T04:30:06.797+01:00Thanks for sharing an amazing poetry. It is very i...Thanks for sharing an amazing poetry. It is very impressive and innovative. <a href="https://srislawyer.com/traffic-lawyer-frederick-va/" rel="nofollow">Frederick Traffic Lawyer</a><br />William Stephenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18198147248534192722noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-5507790143325024082013-11-16T14:05:41.480+00:002013-11-16T14:05:41.480+00:00Working in Nigeria I decided to come back to my of...Working in Nigeria I decided to come back to my office (on Remembrance Sunday) with the sole aim of holding the 2 minutes silence there. An Australian collegue of mine came in and started talking but when I reminded him he shut up and actually held the 2 minutes silence with me. It was a few minutes before 11.00 and i had time to explain. He had genuinely forgotten. <br /><br />What struck me is that outside my office I could hear "business as usual activity, laughter and people not taking a blind bit of notice. I thought to myself "OK, I am in Africa and these people don't understand" (as life is so cheap and unvalued here), but i also noticed that there were European (UK) expats also going about their business too. Later I mentioned this significance of the 11th hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, someone glibly asked is that the 11th second of the 11th minute too... THAT was the trigger point. And the resultant poem is what you see. Poignant? It cut me up. call me daft, call me nostalgic, call me over sensitive.. it does not really matter as long as the message gets passed around. <br /><br />I am a civilian. Always have been. My family have no military history (except for my grandmother's brother having been killed during the first world war). I do not know anyone who has been killed or injured in any conflict, yet I feel as strongly as anyone who has.... <br /><br /><br />Eleven, Eleven, Eleven<br /><br /><br />Eleven, eleven, eleven, again<br />Tormented souls up in heaven<br />1918 - How time’s rolled on<br />With a whole generation gone.<br /><br />The eleventh hour of the eleventh day<br />Of the eleventh month each year people stay<br />2 minutes stopped from activity<br />Stand still and silent for all to see<br /><br />Respect to the long-dead, missing, fallen<br />In needless wars of attrition<br />Yet today worldwide wars rage on<br />Still our troops and civvies fall upon<br /><br />Foreign soil and foreign lands<br />Killed and maimed by foreign hands<br />Their unselfish acts never cease<br />In helping bring this world to peace<br /><br />Some youth look on with empty eyes<br />Cannot understand people’s sighs<br />Don’t want to know what they can’t see<br />At things that happened in history<br /><br />The years roll on but things don’t change<br />Respect for these heroes is not strange<br />These people battle universal strife<br />Willingly lay down their life<br /><br />We hear Kipling’s words “Lest we Forget”<br />But do we understand our eternal debt?<br />No greater love is more than this<br />They give their lives for our own bliss<br /><br />Rest well you battle weary souls<br />Whose souls and lives will ne’er grow old<br />Rejoice each year again and again<br />That your sacrifice was not in vain<br /> <br /> Thomas Mansfield 12.11.13Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01227579855664689086noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-24749960019278022482013-10-26T16:09:55.399+01:002013-10-26T16:09:55.399+01:00this is for all war- written in the spirit of kipl...this is for all war- written in the spirit of kipling.<br /><br />WHEN? By Paul R. Denton<br /><br />When all about you have Lost their Head, <br />When alone amongst the Living and the Dead, <br />When all that is Written has been Read; <br />When there’s Nothing more that needs be Said, <br /><br />When the price of Freedom has been Paid, <br />When every Decision has been Made, <br />When Fate has composed the Final Symphony; <br />When there’s nothing left but History... <br /><br />When Day Dawns upon Truth and Democracy, <br />When every Nation has fulfilled its Destiny, <br />When every Beginning has found its End, <br />When Silence remains your only Friend... <br /><br />When Life is more than Tragic Futility; <br />When All can Love our Common Humanity...<br />(pause)...<br /> WHEN?.... <br /><br /> LEGACY TIMEShttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04001372445877120860noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-16457397124075195022013-10-26T16:04:18.836+01:002013-10-26T16:04:18.836+01:00this is the second part of english soldiering man
...this is the second part of english soldiering man<br /><br /><br />8. Then on the beaches of Dunkirk and Normandy,<br />Whirring tracers struck us down mercilessly!<br />Sand stinging our eyes, as we cursed Hitler and Germany<br />Just like in the Great War, cannon fodder for the enemy!<br />But we listened to Churchill, and forgot Gallipoli -<br />And our thirst for blood and revenge slaked our insanity -<br />This too was World War Two for all humanity.<br /><br />– For this was the lot of the English soldiering man!<br /><br />9. Firestorms in Dresden – the Six million dollar question!<br />But this was total war, was Bomber Command's contention -<br />So as Winston stared silently in horror at his own reflection,<br />Then tapped his cigar to emphasise his intention -<br />“If millions are to die; without a single solitary mention -<br />To end this impasse and free D-Day from detention...<br />Who am I to deny our brave boys their deserved pension?”<br /><br />-For this was the lot of the English soldiering man!<br /><br />10. And from Waterloo to Trafalgar, the Seine and Maginot line,<br />We defended our lives and colours with the thin red line -<br />From Isandlwana to Agincourt – Verdun and the German Rhine -<br />From the Black Hole of Calcutta across the very sands of time -<br />From up the Khyber and down King Solomon's Mine...<br />We sent our missionaries, our traders – then our glorious red wine:<br />Comrades in arms, brothers immortal – Lions Divine!<br /><br />-And this is the lot of the English soldiering man!<br /><br />11.-I held the hand of brother John -<br />As he slipped in and out of Appolyon -<br />Wiped his brow and spoke of Avalon ...<br />And prayed his torment would not be long -<br />I rolled him a cigarette and hummed “Our Jerusalem”...<br />He thanked me so kindly for his job was done -<br />Smiling he died, knowing the war was won...!<br /><br />-For ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do or die,<br />-And this is the lot of the English soldiering man!<br /> <br /> 12. -Into the jaws of death rode the 500 -<br />Into Hades and beyond the Cenotaph said...<br />Into Arthurian legend bled the “glorious dead” -<br />But I..., I am a Republican Druid born and bred -<br />I pledge allegiance to Cromwell and the Diggers instead -<br />I am all the nightmares and terrors you've ever read...<br />I am an Englishman – Viking... "So off with your head!"<br /><br />-And this too is the lot of the English soldiering man!<br /><br />13. We gave the Zulu short shrift at Rorke's Drift- despite the gravity -<br />Lost Harold and Hastings to William's Conquering Cavalry,<br />Washington used our red coats as targets for his Yankees -<br />Julius Caesar rowed back to Rome appalled by our savagery -<br />At the Siege of Mafeking we faced the Boer with Great Gallantry,<br />Century by Century our ancestors kept making history -<br />And so we fight the good fight from Victory to Victory!<br /><br /><br />-And this too is the lot of the English soldiering man! <br /> <br />14. Measure for Measure, whatever the Weather-<br />We are the ones who make everything Better!<br />Footloose and free, and ready Whenever,<br />Kill or be Killed – and whatever – Whatever...!<br />Kindred Spirits in the Greatest Adventure -<br />Trained by John Bull and the Law of Winchester -<br />Massacre and slaughter on Air, Land and Water -<br /><br /><br />-And this is the lot of the English soldiering man!<br /><br /><br />15.When Adam delved and Eve spun,<br />Who then was the gentleman?<br />When wars were raised and battles begun,<br />Who shall tell one from one beneath the Midnight Sun?<br />And the eternal question ever since 1381...<br />Is when shall these Taliban troubles be done – done?<br />When shall God's will on Earth, and our Kingdom surely come – come?<br /><br />For ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do and die -<br />And hope that this shall be the lot for every English soldiering man!<br /><br /><br />END<br /><br /><br /><br />This Ballad was written to challenge our perception of war and history, and to eulogise the role of the English or British soldier. To make sense of it all – ie. 2000 years of bloodshed - through this epic poem, I was inspired by Milton, Byron, Tennyson, and Oscar Wilde's Ballad of Reading Gaol, as well as “England – an Autobiography” I hope it gives solace as well as stirs the imagination and hearts in all those that read it and think on it.<br />LEGACY TIMEShttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04001372445877120860noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-42956331644282722742013-10-26T16:03:19.870+01:002013-10-26T16:03:19.870+01:00Ballad of an English Soldiering Man
1. The battl...Ballad of an English Soldiering Man<br /> <br />1. The battle cry calls from far, far away<br />Stirring our hearts to another futile foreign fray<br />And those that answer what conscience should say -<br />Proudly tell of honour and duty this Remembrance Day,<br />But in what currency of blood shall we pay?<br />Whilst politicians promise more help on the way -<br />And we are sent off packing on the Road to Mandalay!...<br /><br />- This is the lot of the English soldiering man!<br /><br />2.For warring lies deep within the soul of the fighting man,<br />Like a burning fire dancing upon the desert's sand;<br />And yet we see it through as best we can -<br />By winds of adventure our spirits are fanned,<br />From Kandahar across Afghanistan to Hell – man...!<br />Like troubadours on the Mystical road to Samarkand;<br />Part of the programme, part of something we don't understand -<br /><br />-This is the lot of the English soldiering man!<br /><br />3.Across the years, across untold blood, toil, sweat, and tears -<br />Bleeding bravery – God and country upon all our warriors' fears,<br />From theatre to theatre – India – Abyssinia – Iraq and the Crimea's,<br />Playing our parts on stages of violence – wars and hysterias...<br />Travailing against the Mahdi... Al Qaeda – crabs and gonorrhoea’s...<br />Fighting fanatics – fevers and feral Medias;<br />And then when it's done, wash it all down with a few ice cold beers.<br /><br />– This is the lot of the English soldiering man!<br /><br />4. To sing and smile whilst all about you are damned -<br />Ever so disciplined as you get carved up and canned -<br />Praying as you march through an endless Sudan ,<br />Praying for your feet to be lifted by the big brass band,<br />Praying for courage to understand the great game plan -<br />Praying for mercy in these dusty - cursed - unholy lands -<br />Praying for a small, quiet corner that remains forever - England!<br /><br />– For this too is the lot of the English soldiering man!<br /><br />5.I've got a sweetheart Back in Blighty -<br />I've got my true love back in my home county<br />I've got an English rose named Emily -<br />She's the girl waiting for me – my dearest, dearest Emily,<br />She's my beloved – my betrothed whom I shall marry;<br />She awaits me in the greenest, fairest of God's country,<br />Alas – my *ss! I've signed up again in the bloody infantry!<br /><br />– For this too is the lot of the English soldiering man!<br /><br />6. Bullets to the left of me – bombs to the right -<br />These jokers don't know my flag's red and white!<br />Got all the aces and a few ragheads in my sight -<br />I'm Tommy Tippins and it's time to say: "Goodnight!"<br />Live or die – this is war – t'aint no respite!<br />Keep calm – carry on – stand firm – it's alright!<br />Glory days in a distant haze of another fantabulous firefight!<br /><br />– For this too is the lot of the English soldiering man!<br /><br />7. Stuck in the trenches, pinned down by the Hun<br />That was Flanders – Ardennes and the Somme,<br />We died like flies, singing : “Run rabbit, run!” -<br />Joshed by Boche – Kaiser's mustard gas and Gatling gun,<br />Whilst pompous pr*cks shouted: “up and over, my son!”<br />The War to end all Wars when all’s was said and done,<br />That's where I was stationed in World War One.<br /><br />– For this was the lot of the English soldiering man!<br />LEGACY TIMEShttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04001372445877120860noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-72545510330102086152013-10-26T14:52:03.418+01:002013-10-26T14:52:03.418+01:00This comment has been removed by the author.Roger Quickhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03725710248505523832noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-48404801240672442262013-10-26T14:49:20.774+01:002013-10-26T14:49:20.774+01:00Written by Rev.Roger Quick, Hon.Padre The Cameroni...Written by Rev.Roger Quick, Hon.Padre The Cameronians (Scottish Rifles), after the regimental association’s visit to military cemeteries in the Netherlands and the Reichswald.<br /><br /><br />We will<br /><br />Remember? Yes, we will remember them, <br />We who have watched them go down with the sun.<br />And in the morning, seeing them gone <br />We will cease remembering and live. <br />As they would have lived <br />And longed to lay to rest at last <br />The sheer bloody waste of it all.<br /><br />Yes, they would want to forget. <br />Yet even that is denied them,<br />Those who survived them <br />Bear witness to that,<br />Who cannot forget.<br /><br />Sure, they remember the good times: <br />The scrapes they got into, the japes they got up to;<br />Which nevertheless came down to<br />The same thing in the end.<br />They lost a friend.<br /><br />Whose memories hold<br />A face as it was then: young, bold.<br />Truly, they will not grow old.<br />Not then, not now, not never.<br /><br />How can we ever then honour their lives<br />Weary, but unsurprised that <br />The brave new world was lies;<br />Should we not just trouble their rest, <br />Seeing the rubble we built was at best<br />Unfit?<br /><br />But we will. <br />We will. <br />We who the years condemn.<br />We will.<br />Unable to comprehend <br />We that are left will <br />Stand silenced by silence.<br />Unworthy to demand<br />An answer.<br /><br />And still in that silence we will find something <br />Devastatingly honourable,<br />Worthy of repetition,<br />Worth our recalling<br />At the going down of the sun<br />And in the morning.Roger Quickhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03725710248505523832noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-59037068123125904402013-10-26T14:46:02.939+01:002013-10-26T14:46:02.939+01:00Written by Rev.Melvin Quick, former Lieutenant, Ca...Written by Rev.Melvin Quick, former Lieutenant, Canadian HLI, after visiting the D-Day beaches in 1994. In 1999, acting as padre to the regiment, he read this poem at the Museum for Freedom in at Knokke, Belgium, where in 2012 his son, Rev.Roger Quick, read it when acting as padre to the Cameronians (Scottish Rifles).<br /><br /><br />They Do Not Sleep<br /><br />In sacred memory of all the men of The Highland Light Infantry of Canada who died for the cause of freedom during and after the Second World War of 1939-1945.<br /><br />So green the lawns that stretch between<br />The well-kept walks and cultured trees;<br />So clean the emblems gleam that mark<br />The solemn site of sacrifice.<br /><br />Silence, and reverence, and calm<br />Surround the mourning spirit here.<br />The scars of war are overgrown;<br />The shattered cities built again;<br /><br />Replenished are the ranks of men<br />With young who did not know the war.<br />But look! The silent shadowed forms<br />Parade with ever clearer face;<br /><br />And eyes and voice, and native traits<br />Refresh the buried memories,<br />And wake again the searing pain<br />Of sorrow's anger at their loss.<br /><br />Those headstones mark the sudden halt<br />Of hopeful years that have not been;<br />Of life that had so much to learn.<br />So much to give; so much to gain.<br /><br />And we remain; on whom the years<br />Lay growing weight, 'til final call<br />Shall bear away our ageing forms.<br /><br />Then shall we join that youthful throng<br />Who knew not age, or changing scene;<br />Then reap the harvest of our faith,<br />Matured and ripened by God's grace.<br />Roger Quickhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03725710248505523832noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-58912703128637919412013-10-26T14:44:11.037+01:002013-10-26T14:44:11.037+01:00Written by Revd Arthur Quick, late of the Canadian...Written by Revd Arthur Quick, late of the Canadian Army Medical Corps (WW1), after bidding farewell to his son, Pte Melvin Quick, on the embarkation of the Highland Light Infantry of Canada, 1940. <br /><br /><br />The little boys from Common Street <br /><br />The little boys grew up so very fast: <br />The little boys who played on Common Street<br />With kiddie-kars and wagons, scooters, bikes,<br />And noisy clatter of swift running feet.<br /><br />Just tousle-headed, ordinary boys: <br />But how we loved them! Was it yesterday<br />The neighbourhood was lively with their cries,<br />And yet today, you say, they marched away?<br /><br />The martial music sounded through the town:<br />Who were the men went bravely marching by<br />In battle dress with rifle, kit, and pack,<br />With steady tread, and handsome heads held high?<br /><br />These were the little boys from Common Street,<br />My next-door neighbour's little boy and mine;<br />They heard the call to service, and they saw<br />From far away the gleaming vision shine.<br /><br />Youth wears a sort of halo as he goes<br />Forth to adventure in an high emprise,<br />A fiery zeal is burning in his heart,<br />And glory lights are shining in his eyes!<br /><br />While Age stands by and sees the marching host <br />But dimly through a veil of misty tears,<br />He longs to backward turn the tide of time<br />And live again the dear departed years.<br /><br />The little boys have gone from Common Street,<br />The neighbourhood is quiet. Far, so far - <br />The drums beat and the shrilling bugles call:<br />For Age must stay, while Youth goes forth to war.<br /><br />God bless the little boys from Common Street,<br />Give them high courage and stout hearts today!<br />Crown their new manhood with brave victory: <br />And send them back to us, who wait and pray.<br /><br /><br />Roger Quickhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03725710248505523832noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-85917068226403957912013-07-21T22:50:19.513+01:002013-07-21T22:50:19.513+01:00Our Fallen Heroes
When our future generations
The...Our Fallen Heroes<br /><br />When our future generations<br />They ask us the question “why”<br />About our fallen heroes<br />And why did they have to die<br /><br />We’ll tell them to liberate a country<br />To free it’s people from fear<br />To make this world a better place<br />Though a price they paid so dear<br /><br />No matter whom you are<br />Or wherever you come from<br />Each and every one of us should know<br />They gave their lives for “our freedom”<br /><br />Our darkest day came upon us<br />When the good lord to them to heaven<br />Without a chance to say goodbye<br />No warnings we were given<br /><br />A solemn promise we declare<br />No one can ever contest<br />They gave their life for this country<br />Quite simply they were the best<br /><br />A final word of notion<br />To our heroes we’ll never forget<br />We hope one day we’ll meet again<br />Rest in peace OUR FALLEN HEROES and god bless.<br /><br /><br />Written by Larry Tickle Ex 14th/20th Kings Hussars 11th April 2003 Copyright ©<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-76779847522691837252013-07-11T17:51:16.852+01:002013-07-11T17:51:16.852+01:00The humble hero
You seldom talked
Of those monso...The humble hero <br /><br />You seldom talked<br />Of those monsoon days,<br />A humble hero<br />Of the “forgotten” war.<br />A faded photo showed<br />Friends long since dead,<br />Somehow you survived<br />And we’re glad you did.<br />You quietly spoke<br />On a sombre night,<br />Of mending mesh<br />In broad daylight,<br />With the enemy on the hill<br />Unwilling or unable to kill.<br />But you did what you could<br />To survive a rugged conflict,<br />Evading silent shells<br />Behind barrels in a hut.<br />You never mentioned<br />Tragic lives you ended,<br />Medals were kept in honour<br />Of missing soldiers befriended. <br />Returning from the Peninsula <br />You lived an honest life,<br />Bringing joy to a family<br />For time was your healer. <br /><br />A poem in remembrance of Thomas Calvert, who fought in the Korean War. It commemorates the 60th anniversary of the end of the forgotten war. Tim Gardinerhttp://www.essexfieldclub.org.uk/portal/p/Insect%20poetrynoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-24816233850303399732013-06-03T10:30:39.199+01:002013-06-03T10:30:39.199+01:00
Silent Witnesses
Stark, mute, they stand there, ...<br />Silent Witnesses<br /><br />Stark, mute, they stand there, row on row, each one a testament to show<br />The folly of man’s foolish pride; the arrogantly thrown aside<br />Ideas of tranquil co-existence, trampled by some blind insistence<br />Of a lust for power and glory, peace forsaken for war’s fury.<br /><br />Yet also they proclaim the right to take up arms and lead the fight<br />To those who have such mean regard for humankind and seek reward<br />In violent act, barbaric deed inspired by avaricious greed,<br />Which humane spirit must suppress in like response by armed duress.<br /><br />And so these simple markers stand, quite unassuming, almost bland <br />In unpretentious plain design, regardless of rank, a benign<br />And honest statement to us all that in death, man-made titles fall<br />Into inconsequential form and matter not when life is shorn.<br /><br />But in their purpose they excel, in simple narrative they tell<br />Of someone who, in honour bound commitment, died, and in this ground<br />They lie, a noble company, distinguished in their equity<br />Of gallant conduct, sacrifice, who served and paid the highest price. <br /><br />Through countless acres occupied by these white tiers, the naked eye<br />Sees asymmetrical projection, ruler straight, in all directions,<br />Stretching outward distantly, as if into infinity;<br />Expressed in stone the human toll of bygone years, which mock the soul.<br /><br />So let these symbols of mans past barbarity remain and last<br />Forever in our memory, to trust there will no longer be<br />A need for such displays again, to banish all the grief and pain<br />That these stones sadly represent, of human suffering, dark torment. <br /><br />And if their future presence should result in world peace, then some good<br />Will have been wrought, and those who fell will have achieved in their farewell<br />A better victory than they thought they would secure. They, dying, sought<br />To end all war, so peace remained. For their sake, this should be attained. <br /><br />Tony Churchnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-45917631487674612482013-05-02T17:36:43.662+01:002013-05-02T17:36:43.662+01:00Closing a Door by J. Guzman
No sense to it
Grown ...Closing a Door by J. Guzman<br /><br />No sense to it<br />Grown tense through it<br /><br />A young man’s life ago<br />Unsung blood in Korean snow<br /> Blue cold the sky<br /> Dew molds that high<br /> Too bold the cry<br /> Few old men die<br /><br />Take the young man<br />Break him again<br />A child they say<br />Wild fears that stay<br />Haunting, gaunting him<br /><br /> What more need be said<br /> When the green seed is dead<br /> When all have been led<br /> Through the needle like thread<br /><br />Here must I stand<br />Dear dust and damned<br /> A native song somewhere<br /> Pleases the air<br /> Teases my lair<br /> Her hair – black diamond<br /> I watch her go<br /> Calm, calm her stroll<br />While guns eye the child below<br /><br />Two children in time<br /> A mountain between<br />One loving to climb<br /> One wanting to scream<br /><br /> “Oh for the warm days”<br /> Home and family ways<br /> Home<br /> Just home<br /><br />No sense to it<br />Grown tense through it<br /><br />A sound and a call<br /> Unwelcome, wanton wind<br /> That’s all<br />My mind like a stare<br />My universe with a tear<br />Now red molds the dew<br />Here must I leave you<br /><br /><br /> (20 winters pass)<br /><br /><br />Grey smoke far to the East<br />Man’s shadow, the Beast,<br />Roars in the distant land<br />Take the children by your hand, America<br /> Vote millions for your defense<br /> Plant green seeds in a trench<br /><br /> Wave colors at the sky<br /> Your mothers’ tearful goodbyes<br /> Add moisture to the swill<br /> Oaths freeze the will<br /> They learn Man’s private skill<br /><br /> I smile; the Creator sighs<br /><br />The lies:<br /><br /> Choose births to equalize<br /> The Beast fairly shared<br /> (And cut that goddamned hair)<br /> Her pages scorned<br /> The parchment is torn<br /> The Fathers’ graves are still<br /> The Fat Man rings the till<br /> While five closed walls<br /> Create futures for them all<br /><br /> You’ve learned little, my friends<br /><br />Things you’ve done too many times before<br />Like closing a door<br /><br />Idiots, you dance round the pole<br />Fools, who glance down a hole<br /> No chance, lost soul<br /><br /> I laugh aloud; the Creator frowns<br /><br />A young man’s life ago<br />My universe in Korean snow<br />Her song a mile away<br />Wild fears here to stay<br /><br />This poem was written 40 years ago when I was a college senior facing the Viet Nam War draft much against my will. I was eventually drafted and completed it while stationed overseas. It was rediscovered (luckily)recently, and I felt it had relevance today. J. Guzman, Wisconsin, U.S.A. Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4310327507866502209.post-2700219108074157692013-04-25T22:34:04.516+01:002013-04-25T22:34:04.516+01:00Nineteen Fifteen
A one-nil victory versus The Be...Nineteen Fifteen <br /><br />A one-nil victory versus The Bedfords<br />In the afternoon, January sixteenth, <br />Still nil-nil in the stinking mud.<br /><br />March nineteenth, a boxing tournament, <br />Where you cushioned blows <br />Before “the Germans attacked.”<br /><br />July third, “three seven a.m.” lead,<br />“Battalion goes over the top” <br />Six hundred casualties, many dead.<br /><br />August first, Lammas Day,<br />“A bath in the River Somme”<br />To wash Death’s harvest away. <br /><br />September eleventh, Hope Street,<br />A hopeless trench mortar<br />Killed Private Beaton outright.<br /><br />Late October rains near Arras,<br />“Water over knees”<br />And “up to the waist.”<br /><br />December twenty-fifth,<br />“Six bottles of vin,<br />JOLLY CHRISTMAS, it’s raining.”<br /><br />For the Unknown Soldier of a family,<br />This living memory of hell’s fury<br />Is pencil within a fragile diary. <br /><br />A poem in remembrance of Charles Norman Gardiner (1896-1918) who fought and died on the Western Front in World War I. His diary (which my family still possesses) covers an entire year and direct extracts have been included in quotation marks in the poem to aid the description of a year in the life of a soldier in the trenches.Tim Gardinerhttp://www.essexfieldclub.org.uk/portal/p/Insect+poetrynoreply@blogger.com