Tag: war

…it will never stop…

On By jovisgoesIn heroes, Life, Loss, old age, Poetry, War, wisdomLeave a comment

old-man-reading-200x200

He sits there reading, happy enough now in his own company
what is it he reads -ah yes – a Tale of Two Cities
a favourite, but one which evokes an old memory
of long ago when he was just a young man.

Of a time when war raged across Europe like a plague
when it was in the grip of a madman bent
on seizing power everywhere and not caring how
and men like him and many of his friends went.

But then there seemed a real purpose to it
and besides, he met Françoise and loved her so
and later with many of his friends now dead
it was over so he went back home with Françoise instead.

Now she also is no more, killed by muggers who were armed
and he sits all alone, no girls, no sons
wondering why his country’s leaders
can never see the futility of all the guns.

Once more the planet rages with war
once more there will be unnecessary deaths
he finds himself wishing the impossible thought
the non-invention of guns, and it leaves him short of breath.

Sadly men would have just found another way to kill each other
– and that is the real problem. It never goes away.

 

©Joe Wilson – …it will never stop…2014

His regret

On By jovisgoesIn Belief, Betrayal, Loss, Poetry, Regret, Terror, Time, WarLeave a comment

And so it was his past caught up
a dread for many years
it was time to face reality
and belay his darkest fears.

A time to face a painful truth
he’d never known this child
he’d left when he was just hours old
and the loss had made him wild.

A soldier he’d been sent abroad
to fight for others’ errors
and in the deepness of his mind
he remembered years of terrors.

They’d captured him and half his men
his captain they had killed
and made the rest including him
dig the grave and get it filled.

When he came home he was a wreck
who drank himself to sleep
and though he had had several jobs
they were impossible to keep.

He later found his faith again
and now he has a certain peace
but the fear of meeting his son at last
was filling him with unease.

He wonders if he’ll understand
and how it will work out
but the boy had come and sought him
now he waited full of doubt……..

©Joe Wilson – His regret 2014

A Magical Moment…and then it’s gone!

On By jovisgoesIn Loss, Poetry, Point of View, political, Poverty, Regret, Terror, War1 Comment

The World Crisis 2012 3

Within that magical moment
The world is at one and at ease
Everyone is loving their neighbour
And we have control of disease.

But it doesn’t last, it cannot last
It will all go back as before
To the dying from hunger and violence
To man’s unending desire for war.

One man plants a crop for food
But another man reaps the gain
The one making life from the profit
While another’s reward is just pain.

If a man is black, or yellow, who cares!
His blood like yours is red
The bullets or knives that pierce your skins
Would make you both as dead.

A man gets beaten in the street
His crime was being gay
Who gave those others the right to judge
Will prejudice never go away?

The ones with strength to dominate
Should nonetheless take heed
When they themselves are wanting help
Who’ll stay to fill that need.

I hear the ever-growing rains
They flood the town and field
Where hardship’s felt so gravely
Where man is forced to yield.

Perhaps we brought it on ourselves
We feel the need for so much
But there are so many with nothing
Who’d benefit from a gentle touch.

Back to that magical moment
It’s the one just before I awake
Where the next moment comes and it’s over
And it can’t be put right with a shake.

 

©Joe Wilson – A Magical Moment…and then it’s gone! 2014

1914 – From Aldershot to Braille

On By jovisgoesIn Loss, Love, Poetry, Point of View, political, WarLeave a comment

injured soldiers 1914

He was sent to Aldershot for training
He would learn how to kill or be killed
The training was all done with broomsticks
When he thought back it made his blood chill.

His unit was sent down to Portsmouth
To board a ship and go over there
It was packed to the gunwales with weapons
And the rations left no room to spare.

He practiced with his rifle on the journey
Like others who’d not held one before
He’d no sense of the horror he’d be facing
Nor the violence he’d always abhorred.

It was such a small piece of shrapnel
Caught both eyes as a shell case shattered
He never saw his two boys as they grew into men
Missing out on so much that had mattered.

His wife who he loved always helped him
And a life with new interests grew
He learnt how to read the braille papers
It pleased him he’d still know the news.

But the trauma from the experience scarred him
And ire with politics grew by the day
So he took to his new odd braille keyboard
And wrote articles and letters to complain.

He could sense the new way that the wind blew
In the corridors of power in the House
There was money to be made in new weapons
And politicians ignore those who grouse.

Then again two decades later it started
Another war that would mean more dead men
The obscenity rose like a bile in his throat
So once again he took to his ‘pen’.

©JRW2014

One in a group of poems recognising the centenary of WWI

1914 – A Huge Fraction

On By jovisgoesIn Family, Personal, Poetry, Point of View2 Comments

He still felt deafened by the terrible sound
From the huge field guns that both sides had
Been firing hour after hour for four days. You
Could be scared to death just from the noise.

An eighth didn’t seem like much
Two sixteenths
Four thirty-seconds
Eight sixty-fourths
Sixteen one hundred and twenty-eighths.

Following his recent promotion to Colonel
He was sitting in his new office at his new desk
Hesitating to put his pen to paper
Resisting the inevitable sorrow to come.

He was writing down the numbers – thinking
Thirty two two hundred and fifty-sixths
Sixty four five hundred and twelfths.
Now the numbers looked much bigger.
When he reached
Five hundred and twelve as a
fraction of four thousand and ninety-six
He stopped.

The number now seemed insurmountable
Yet it was still that small fraction.
But he now had to write to that number
Of wives, mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters
And tell them that their boy would
Never again walk through their front door.

An eighth is so much more than just a fraction.

©Joe Wilson – 1914 A huge fraction…2014

One of a group of poems recognising the centenary of WW1

War and Death and Greed

On By jovisgoesIn Poetry, Point of ViewLeave a comment

War is a cash-cow, there will always be war
– and people will die in the bloodlust and gore
But those who decide on such things never go
– to the battlefront, armed, and frightened of foe
For they’re in their offices making decisions
– as the blades cut the air and men die from incisions.

War is foolish and madness, obscene and absurd
– differences need solving not by bullets, but with words
Sitting round the table for as long as it takes
– and negotiating wisely, no foolish mistakes
But as long as some profit from other people’s death
– they’ll make more blooded money till their own dying breath.

Can we afford to continue to fight in this battle
– racing to slaughter each other like cattle
We cannot keep falling out with our neighbours
– death can’t be the only reward for our labours
Man seems to have battled for two thousand years
– and innocent lives get drowned in the tears.

Stop now…stop now, before it’s too late
– destroying each other leaves the planet to fate
The hatred that spreads through the ill chosen word
– we need to address this, surely peace is preferred
The world needs to stop fighting, we have to do better
– to put an end for the need for the widow’s sad letter.

©JRW2014

New Year Thoughts

On By jovisgoesIn Poetry, Point of ViewLeave a comment

There’s a horror that Gaia feels deep in the ground
That her riches and goodness are ill spread around
The wars that are fought over her bounty are many
The haves having plenty, the have-nots not any
There’s enough to go round if we tried more to share
We’d all gain much more as it feels good to care.

Perhaps resolve this year to say hi to your neighbour
And accept a nice smile as reward for your labour
…and that which we have, but don’t need, we could offer
………..to those much less lucky with no bountiful coffer.
©JRW2014