The challenge running through last week was on the theme of war and remembrance. Who could have known that there would have been another layer of horror to add to the unbearably monstrous pile we’ve already accumulated in our role as most intelligent, civilized and advanced species on the planet?
There was, as usual, a wealth of poetry inspired by this most emotive theme. Here are the nonets.
First was Ben Naga—couldn’t agree more.
Next, Peter Bouchier’s poem,
so that you may
bloom like a poppy
the battlefield is wide
there is room for all of us
carrying our ammunition
we will move in the line of fire
the fields will colour a shade of red
once we have overcome the foe
fighting deep within ourselves
peace will only prevail
when our blooming hearts
beat like war drums
as we march
The link to his blog with the poem’s illustration is here:
Ken’s poem: I particularly like the way the first and last words rhyme.
War No More
Gaze into the distance,imagine
as they fade on the horizon
of a place in time when
poppies need not grow
with thoughts of war
lost in a
This one: Veterans’ Day is from Greg who was inspired to join in for the first time. Welcome, Greg 🙂
Elusive trope. Sharp, aggressive imagery for a heartless subject.
Kris the Bard tells a whole awful story in this double nonet.
Merril Smith ends on a hopeful note. Thanks for that, Merril 🙂
On Flanders Fields the poppies grow now
Hiding the bones of the fallen.
Red blooms instead of red blood
But do the ghosts still walk
Crying and in pain?
Peace has not come
To take root.
Kat Myrman sent in this very touching double nonet.
Janice end this trio of poems with a nonet written after the Paris outrage.
Why remember on remembrance day?
Let’s remember to reflect on
war, our tragic addiction
to deadly weapon fire,
and bold young heroes’
Resounding to the heavens, joyous
dove songs mark terror’s overthrow
bombs and guns are obsolete
dictators have no sway
has stepped aside
What glass shards pierced their murderous hearts?
What dark horrors tangled their minds?
Who schemes murder in God’s name?
Resisting fear’s poison,
I grasp for answers,
How to oppose
This is Geoff’s contribution based on memories of his father and grandfather. I like the image of the wasp. ‘Oh Death, where is thy sting’ etc.
‘No response received; we are at war.’
The wasp is drunk on rotting fruit
Spins slowly. Disturbed it jabs
Its sting, thoughtless who’s hurt.
It’s instinct. It knows
No better. We do.
Yet still we
Some lovely lines in these poems. Thanks to all of you for joining in. Tomorrow’s theme is going to be another new one.