Wednesday, 6 August 2014

Poetry Thursday 122 - World War 1 views

We have been surrounded with information and celebratory programmes about the 100th anniversary of the beginning of World War 1.  

Ordinary People

A lull in the fighting but not in the screaming
Ordinary People given guns, bayonets, spades and told to fight other Ordinary People
It didn’t matter what nationality.

Rulers, politicians representing Ordinary People but responsibly?
Like loading the countries magazine with clips of Ordinary People.

The human body is frail and strong but never made for that level of punishment.
Blasted, sliced, pummelled, pierced and gassed was wrong.
Left to survive in torment.

What right have the ruling classes to use the bodies of Ordinary People
for the control of the masses.
The cannon fodder should have left their weapons and gone home.

How can dropping bombs and firing missiles solve the lack of understanding between cultures?
No one way is right or wrong it just fits,
the point is that all Ordinary People are different.
© David L Atkinson August 2014


Like so many poppies in a gale,
petals strewn far and wide never to recover.
A million people destroyed by the winds of war.
Petals torn away as limbs from bodies.
Whole inflorescences destroyed for ever
and, as a disease, spreads to families.
The canker, curling petals, wilting stems
and finally killing the whole plant.
It is right that we wear poppies lest we forget.
© David L Atkinson August 2014

A Child’s View

When will dad be back home Mum?
He won’t be long – be patient son.

But where has my dad gone Mum?
To Belgium with lots of pals son.

But why did he go to Belgium Mum?
To stand up for this family son.

But why did he have to do that Mum?
Because of some nasty people son.
When he comes home will he take me to the park Mum?
God willing son!
© David L Atkinson August 2014

God Bless