Posted by: Postordinandy | August 4, 2014

1914 – 2014

In Flanders field

The poppies weep in frozen disbelief:

Heavy tears hanging their petals to the ground,

Like old beggars under sacks, perhaps?

flanders 1.

For the dead they remember increase in number by the hour:

No longer filmed in sepia tones,

Captured images from torn and faded photographs,

But resplendent in violent hues of shrapnel red.

.

We few, we happy few majority,

Who can mute the echoing cries of anguish with the casual flick of a switch,

Dull our minds to the disposable departed –

Their images replaced by dancing kittens.

flanders 2

The casualties of war, those for whom the Bell Tolls,

Are not – we insist – kindred souls: we see no empathy with

Those who, but for a twist of geographic and ethnic fate

Would have been our neighbours, our family, our colleagues and friends.

.

If I should die, think only this of me:

That my life is worth no more, no less,

Than that of the torn corpses on news channels and magazine copy.

As Edwin intoned: what is it good for?

poppies

Advertisements

Responses

  1. […] a poem called 1914-2014 I wrote when we started thinking about the 100th anniversary of the start of […]


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Categories

%d bloggers like this: