Murder – dVerse Open Link Night

Image – author’s own

It descends suddenly, the veil of darkness,
is it not the same for you?
my vitriol rises, my bile erupts, a
conviction of your subhuman, less-than status
that ignites my thirst — 
killing overwhelms me, irresistibly.
under the circumstances, I must be excused (I will not beg),
the nature of the beast wears a
cloak spattered with guts and hatred
of which I have become overly fond — 
war has dehumanised and mechanised me
is it not the same for you?
nothing is beneath me anymore 
but the bones and viscera on which I tread.
an empty shell am I,
act kindly and I will carve a knife-smile in your face,
of course, before I bestow 
murder upon you.

This poem was inspired by the Albert Einstein quote below, each word of which begins each line above.

“It is my conviction that killing under the cloak of war is nothing but an act of murder.”

It was written in response to much that I have learned about the world since I watched “The World at War” with my parents when I was growing up. This 26 episode British TV series, narrated by Laurence Olivier, chronicles the Second World War and is widely acclaimed — the series focuses on how life and death throughout the war years affected members of the armed forces, civilians, concentration camp inmates and other victims of the war. Images from this series have never left me, all these year later.

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Tonight is Open Link Night over on dVerse, hosted by the lovely Grace. Tonight there is no theme for us to follow, just write a poem on whatever subject suits our fancy, and submit it for others to read.

There is always something to learn and discover, so why not hop on over to the Open Link Night and read the wonderful poetry that is on offer? Or, if you’re feeling daring, why not take part yourself?

Happy reading!

Class (un)distinction – SoCS June 18/16

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“Due to overcrowding on this train, I am pleased to let all passengers know that the First Class compartments have now been declassified.”

Oh, the oft-repeated lament of the conductor on my commuter train services. It seems to be a permanent fixture of late. There’s an ongoing dispute between the crew and operating company and who comes off the worst? Of course, the passengers. Cancelled trains over and over and over again.

But then, this statement got me to thinking. No matter how often claims are made that we live in a classless society, it can’t possibly be true. Here in the UK we are staring down the barrel of the Brexit gun, with our in/out of the EU referendum taking place next week. The tone of the campaigning has made me feel very uncomfortable, to say the least, with many, many arguments focussing on very thinly disguised racism, on the part of the Leave campaign. We are not an isolationist nation (I don’t think), but that’s how the Leave campaign appear, wishing to pull up the drawbridge between here and mainland Europe, looking down on the policies and nationalities of our neighbours from a very ill-drawn and shaky high horse.

I grew up in Birmingham in the 1970s. Most of my friends were second generation immigrants – Sikh, Hindu, Muslim, Afro-Carribean. I loved the fact that our school nativity play was as multi-racial as I imagine Jerusalem would have been back then. I learned so much from my friends, our neighbours, the shopkeepers about different cultures. Yes, there were disagreements, no, it wasn’t all easy-going, but it worked.

On Thursday (yesterday as I write this) a female Labour MP was murdered in her Yorkshire constituency of Batley and Spen. She was a shining example of a good person (from what I have read), someone who believed that we all had far more in common as human beings than differences. She was passionate about humanity, about looking after people. She strongly believed that we are better off as part of the EU than outside it.

I don’t tend to write so bluntly about politics, about racism, about isolationism on this blog.  But I am terribly worried about the direction the UK is taking, about the direction many other countries are taking, about the polarisation of views, about the insistence that there is no need to understand the ‘other’, because the ‘other’ can’t possibly be right, shouldn’t be listened to. Shouting loudest (something that seems to be the vast part of our politics these days) is not the way to understand, is not the way to deal with differences.

Compassion. We all have the capacity for it. Where has it gone?


Here is my early-bird entry into the lovely Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday, where we are invited to write using the word ‘class’ as our prompt.

This was truly a stream of consciousness. Feelings in the UK are ugly right now, with the Brexit referendum right round the corner. It hurts. I don’t like much of what I am hearing.

Please do feel free to read – even better, take part. You never know where it might take you!

 

Meat is Murder – Sunday Photo Fiction

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I zip up my wet suit, noticing the tightness in my shoulder as I reach between my shoulder blades. I’m not getting any younger or more flexible, and it’s been a week since I felt the muscle tear. I have to do this now, before it’s too late.

I look up, back to the dunes and watch Timmy gnawing at the bone I had given him earlier. Hopefully, the marrow will keep him occupied long enough for me to be nearing the horizon and far beyond his failing eyesight. I’d been giving him a lot of meaty treats lately. Guilt, I suppose.

I pat my chest, feeling the reassuring crackle of plastic underneath. All of our, no my worldly goods are in there. It should be enough.

I push the canoe into the waves, past the first swells and step in, settling myself into the seat. I begin paddling, strong, swift strokes that are my reward for months of practice.

I ponder at Timmy’s new and healthy appetite. Funny, I’d never thought of him as a predator before. Still, I suppose any animal can develop a taste for human flesh, given the opportunity…

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Here’s my latest entry into Alistair’s Sunday Photo Fiction. He supplies us with his own wonderful photos, so deserves our support! Happy Sunday, all….

Do take part if you have time, or just pop over and read the other entries.