Tag: death

The Trenches

Mud like superglue, makes battle grim,

mountains of slimed clothes, never clean,

boots feel like leaden weights

and the humble sandwich tastes like dirt.

—

The sweet face of a friend sinks down,

leaving the grief to to fight and show

that this hell is more than enough,

and bitterness bloats the corpse.

—-

Precious moments in the lull to look,

birds have flown, they’ve more sense,

the sun dimmed by the bloody gore

and clouds unwelcome pour more mud.

—-

Soon, too soon, they’ll all be gone,

and their death song forgotten,

all that will be left is the tragic

cry of the bereft childless mother.

—–

We grow old in ancient lore

but never learn to abandon war.

Grief

Death comes oh so slowly for some,

whispering in each struggling breath,

holding them in its grip but tightly

not letting them go to their freedom,

gasping for air, painful frowns as

medication is measured and relief

is sought, but death comes too slow.

===

Death is sudden. Like a fist to the gut.

No warning, no word, no inkling of it.

She was so young, he was only. God!

This is not how I imagined my day.

Like a huge rolling wave it hits and

leaves an aftermath of abject misery.

It comes. A crater in someone’s life.

===

Death steals hope and fruitful futures,

and tho t’is part of nature nurturing. so

 it has its shadowy way; a dark valley.

Long ago a wounded hands reach out

from a cross, he shared with us the

grim journey. Now, he warmly welcomes

each weary soul with love and fills them

with life;

for

eternity.

The Flames of Death

It was beautiful, the newly shooting buds of ancient trees,

those toppled by the terrible storms defiantly greening,

At our feet the carpet of pungent garlic holding its buds

as precious gifts to a foraging folk and here and there

stars of anemones shining in the dim lit ancient path.

==

We trod on round the scars of fallen rocks, glimpsing

blue sky and rolling waves as they washed the shore, 

relentlessly cleaning the rocks and sand, filling small

coves with tiny shrimps, and cockle shells for the

sustenance of the crying gulls and scuttling crabs.

========

We rounded the corner and felt the cold wind of

death. All around blackened, tortured branches

crumbled into the blackened earth where the tiny

bodies of creatures lay cremated by human hands,

who’ve abused and raped this gentle, gracious land.

—–

Broken by the sight, smell and disgust for our race,

teary eyes took in the acres of what should be golden

tipped gorse, bluebells coming, and a place where

bees would buzz and butterflies dance. But their 

hiddenness in this brutal affair cost them their lives.

——

The stench remained with us as we finally passed 

into green and gentle slopes laying atop the cliffs,

called us to pray for Ukraine and others. There, a

beautious land has been stripped and burned. Both

their fruitful futures killed by callousness and greed.

——

The smoke still hung in the air as we silently pass,

the grim reminder of the disregard for living things.

The blackened soil lives in in our dreams, haunting

our thoughts recalling us to reality that some care

not for creatures, nor climate change carbon stoked

by

their 

fires.

Plastic Warfare

The clouds floated on the face of

the water, which flowed

silently under branches of trees.

Nothing moved

nothing stirred

but the grey water.

———————-

Up above the sun shone

cloaking the trees in burning heat

and searing the ground;

charring the last

vestiges of grass

that were not burned

by the salt laced stream.

————————–

The sun fell below

the far off horizon

kindling a breeze,

which blew through the

now empty hostile heartland

—————————

and plastic pieces 

bowled along the broken earth

surviving silently in a scape

devoid of the living.