Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

The tiger sniffs the rose

"Soldiers are citizens of death's grey land, drawing no dividend from time's tomorrows."
Siegfried Sassoon

Image

Circumstances compel speech,
Ye gods and little fishes, 
From the first day of the world
Down to the horror in our own time
Peace is forever out of reach.

Don’t frown, don’t shake your head,
Listen to this elegy for the dead
A soldier-poet silenced, banned, expelled
Misery and bravery meld.

The sheep are forgot, the cattle, bees unkept.
Be thrifty with feelings, words we accept
Can cultivate the goodness of mankind
Lovingkindness with love aligned.

Fauns and Dryads sing with unfettered
Fertility in sun or snow or drear November weather.
We left our native towns and easy afternoons,
And went to war. Why? Lions led by buffoons. 

Spat upon by those who chose civilian life,
A job, comfort, money, pension, wife.
Gods and goddesses preserve us
From these pacific wretches...

She who calls for help and succour
Relies upon the soldier trim.
Do not speak of love and losses
Sea  and sky and land and sin.

We tidy away the chaos
In the uniform of the state
Redemption's never easy 
Though we are often late. 

?si=Ne8zpbRASdSRZGa_
. .

🌷(3)

◄ Sonnet

Well-mannered thug ►

Comments

<Deleted User> (34003)

Tue 31st Oct 2023 18:39

In response, there is no exclusivity when it comes to hypocrisy.

Profile image

John Marks

Tue 31st Oct 2023 18:17

Thank you Massoud. I can imagine that. We civilians are hypocrites indeed. We rely on the 'rough men' to protect us during war and don't give a damn about them in peacetime.

“Dark clouds are smouldering into red
While down the craters morning burns.
The dying soldier shifts his head
To watch the glory that returns:
He lifts his fingers toward the skies
Where holy brightness breaks in flame;
Radiance reflected in his eyes,
And on his lips a whispered name.”
― Siegfried Sassoon,

<Deleted User> (34003)

Tue 31st Oct 2023 08:17

November rides in, bringing with it a sense of foreboding that sits in the pit of my stomach until it rides out again. Its rider having dulled the edge of his sword on too many old mens memories.

Your beautifully sad poem reminds me of these things. Of our own isolation from much of society, some of it self imposed some of it cruelly engineered.

What saddens me is that I imagine many people believe men like me revel in war (some do) I despise it having lived its reality and sometimes its necessity, that necessity is almost always due to the failure of men who do not fight, who then afterwards look upon us as savages and hateful beings.

War is evil and repellent but it taught me to love, imagine that.

Thank you for your excellent words.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message