war – Page 4 – poems 2 die for

IN PRAISE OF SACRIFICE

IN PRAISE OF
SACRIFICE

people will
fight for truth
be nobly
martyred

but how much more
strongly, happily,
forcefully
fanatically

they will
fight for lies

the bigger the lie
the bigger the sacrifice

DAVID

DAVID

if you are
the David in
this great battle

why
are you slaughtering
all the poets?

if you are Solomon
with so much wisdom
to bestow upon humanity

why are you
flattening all the universities
burning the archives?

watching as
culture and history goes
up
in smoke

or dancing
around the flames

INCOMPLETE

IMCOMPLETE

do not learn

we never
learn

what have we
learnt?
don’t hold back
just
let rip

tell me
tell me!

look at me
pay careful attention
thorough scrutiny

all those years
gone to waste

sitting down

lying down

standing up

writing something
learning nothing

what in here
worth speaking?

out there
worth reading?

what
good are books
when there are tanks
in the street?

indiscriminate slaughter
clearing a path house
to house

room
to room

every alley
every precinct

this book of horrors
as yet unwritten
as yet incomplete

one two
three four;
every paragraph

breaking
every wall

VICTORY

VICTORY

You were screening
a film about your victory

when news
of your defeat, your
complete defeat came

sudden consternation
in the projection box
reels were exchanged
and that
film replaced

by one so different,
one that dealt
with the death of hubris,
end of arrogance

and a way that slowly,
painfully
the sins and crimes

might be
confessed before humanity;
some redemption take place.

BEEB

here we are
with our reporters
and cameras

swinging into Gaza
behind an armoured thrust

lucky
to have all this protection
help us
get
our story

one of our group
is fixated on asymmetry

though this is a word
we would not choose
to use
on the BBC

CHILD’S PLAY

CHILD’S PLAY

like a child:
but did not mean
infantile

did not mean
psychotic

did not mean
projectile vomit
all over that globe spinning
in the living room

did not mean
you blood-painting
yourself
into a corner

all the while selling us
your story that you
are
responding to
Tik Tok and text message

direct
from above

SOLITAIRE which way is the wind blowing? empirical, metaphysical equally valid as a question so let me sit here debating whether to play solitaire or show my solidarity writing a poem must not cannot absolutely unable to face the thought that one less casuality one less maimed or broken soul if I had sat playing solitaire rather than battling with each angry bitter word trying to shape them shape of this poem

RAW

RAW this war is raw it is tartare it is war that needs to smash everything slosh blood everywhere forget tactical principle it has other points to prove it is war where the bloodshed needs to be bathed in be tasted how otherwise will its glory be revered by all?

SILENT

SILENT I am in the library hunting for tales of darkness and light feasting on the silence some poems are silent this we must respect in a world of horror what can a poem possibly say? some things are terrible some just overblown too big to talk about in a thing called a poem I have worked my way through this book labyrinth found what I was targeting exactly what I was after wondering if the books of light in this library are protected by angels flashing in to defend humanity, promote safety and justice bomb dropped falling as I wonder whether a golden robe goes with the territory is the absolute sign of favour presence of the light

NOODLE

NOODLE far from anywhere in the city of Noodle people flattened by the shockwave here left them aghast at this branch of the species so much to learn, too little time in this state of decline our total destruction they fear