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Remembrance & Writing Opposed To War.
Posted: Sat Nov 11, 2006 11:30 am
by Louis P. Burns aka Lugh
It's the 11th November, 2006. Remembrance Day and a chance to reflect on all the losses people experience because of war. If members of Sensitize wish to offer their own writing on the tragedies of war, or remember friends and loved ones who have died or been injured in conflicts, then please post to this thread.
I will get the ball rolling with an old poem of mine called Terminal:-
Terminal. By Louis P. Burns aka Lugh © 1987 / 2002.
Posted: Sat Nov 11, 2006 11:35 am
by Louis P. Burns aka Lugh
terminal
By Louis P. Burns aka Lugh © 1987 / 2002. All Rights Reserved.- standing in the airport
feeling lost and alone
watching people wait for hours
to use a telephone
a policeman tells the broken-hearted
there's nothing he can do
I have a cup of coffee
the clock shows quarter-to
you don't know what it did to me
when you had to go away
all I could do was hope
that you'd be back again
someday
the rain is falling heavy
I press my face into the glass
and try to visualise your face
at sometime in the past
they said you died a hero's death
out on the frontline
that you climbed the ranks of bravery
when you lay down on a mine
well, all I feel is nausea
and I wish that I could scream
I wish that I could pinch myself
and wake up from this dream
but, this is not imagined
this is very, very, real.
I can't help thinking that you
got the shit end of the deal
you don't know what it did to me
when you had to go away
all I could do was hope
that you'd be back again
someday.
standing on the tarmac
my heart sinks like a stone
as they take your body off the plane
you have finally
come home...
Image in this post is copyright property of the Ulster Museum:-
http://www.ulstermuseum.org.uk/image_li ... 92hweb.jpg
Posted: Sun Nov 12, 2006 1:37 pm
by Mike Daniels
Reasons To Be Cheerful
Bliss -
an edge of rain against fresh mown grass
and the world dilutes.
Faded banners fling threads against the air,
against the anthems we sang
to bugle calls, and the whisper of steam
that washed station platforms.
I pick a poppy - just one -
to blaze against the sun
in phantom anger.
I heard your regrets
as you feed the chambers
with the snicking of steel.
Will there be more graveyards
like these, I wonder,
to stiffen November breezes?
Posted: Sun Nov 12, 2006 2:56 pm
by Louis P. Burns aka Lugh
Thanks Mike
...