Called to War
The sky wept pearls that fateful day
the shape of tears and the size of duck eggs ..
No, not a single bloody thing went according to plan
He being called to someone else’s war like that.. Shame on them all
of course, the white feather pinned to the back of his collar, did nothing to
help matters, the day war finally broke and when the sky wept those pearls …
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Author:
Neville (
Offline) - Published: September 1st, 2021 12:03
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 57
Offline)
Comments7
A fine write N.
Ta Mr. O ............................................. n truly 🙂
Thank you. Strong poem.
Thank you Trenz P how very kind of you my friend ............................... Neville 🙂
When I was 18 and about to graduate High School, I got my draft card. And not long after the draft was cancelled. Well penned N.
someone was smiling down on you methinks ... good to hear my friend ........................ and thanks AP, N ..
I can't lie N, I smiled back. 😉
It's always someone else's bloody war. In Australia of right age at the time of Vietnam and conscription by ballot. I did not win a place --- It terrifies me even now to think that had I won, I could have lost my life or been damaged beyond repair as a result of participation in that act of absolute futility.
And as Redgum put's it - 'I was Only 19'.
Thanks v. much for a very powerful write Nev.
absolutely true .. I served in the RAF but had to buy myself out after my friend Steven O got blown up by a milk churn device ...................................................... cheers DD .. N
So many innocent men died because of the people in power.
Andy
Another universal truth Andy .................. thank you kindly sir .. Neville
Wars have ever made skies weep large tears - - these few lines of poetic power tell well some of the troubles about being drafted to "someone else's war" and results of objecting......... "shame on them all" for wars in the first place my friend.
its a damned good job we are both on the same side .. thank you kindly dear Fay .................... N x
my words are too feeble, to honour your write
with empty commentary, so if you'll permit me
I'll borrow, words of a true battle hardened Genius, survivor
of war's, all-consuming Horror:
'Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams before my helpless sight
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin,'
( https://mypoeticside.com/show-classic-poem-21210 )
I am truly honoured that my words strung here and so haphazardly are now juxtaposed .. thus, against words writ by the late, great Wilfred Owen himself ................. and tho' far from worthy, I am more than doubly deeply grateful LB ..................... Neville
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