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Setting off

 

The hill was steep leading upto the memorial
at 5 am iI was a time of wonder, stepping up
the hill I floated. I rarely stopped to think in
those long-gone dog days of graduation
born between Belsen & Napalm
I rarely thought of others, had no perspective,
'naturally’ I thought of my friends as permanent,
nothing is, of course, and one day one of the best
would set me up for a theft I did not commit:
I became acquainted with jealousy and envy
those with money and charisma would carve out
'success'. The rest of us would struggle
to take what is offered, being  too stoned or cowardly
to realise the sacrifices made by others is no excuse.
It cost me the whole of my connection:caste, culture, class.
I began on that day to recognize, and respect, the enduring
disappointments that make life what it is. 

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🌷(8)

◄ Biba — 1967

circus poet ►

Comments

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John Marks

Sun 7th Apr 2024 00:05

I felt overstuffed and dull and disappointed, the way I always do the day after Christmas, as if whatever it was the pine boughs and the candles and the silver and gilt-ribboned presents and the birch-log fires and the Christmas turkey and the carols at the piano promised never came to pass.
Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

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keith jeffries

Fri 5th Apr 2024 21:41

John,
A poem which I am able to relate to as I think we are about the same age. Born between Belsen and Napalm made me aware that I was born between bomb damaged Birmingham and a man on the moon. We possessed a certain innocence in those far off days only to eventually discover another side of life which was not aggreeable. Such is life. A poem to ponder on.
Thank you,
Keith

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Landi Cruz

Fri 5th Apr 2024 20:48

That's fantastic...

It really reads beautifully )

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