You're blind drunk, my mother said
as he fell through the door,
and sure he was, on this one day
when thoughts returned to war.
They march the men on Anzac Day,
in honour of that time,
and drown their sorrows and their fears,
in wet, forgetful sighs.
It was a boy who went to war,
so many years ago,
and still a boy who drinks so deep
of grief he barely knows.
The man may hold the reins of life,
for most of every day,
but still the broken child returns,
in shreds of drunken play.
They thought they chose to go and fight,
but Fate held tight their hands,
to lead them on that sightless path
where consciousness was damned.
They didn't talk these wounded men,
who straggled back from death,
and when they could they suckled
at forgettings fulsome breasts.
as he fell through the door,
and sure he was, on this one day
when thoughts returned to war.
They march the men on Anzac Day,
in honour of that time,
and drown their sorrows and their fears,
in wet, forgetful sighs.
It was a boy who went to war,
so many years ago,
and still a boy who drinks so deep
of grief he barely knows.
The man may hold the reins of life,
for most of every day,
but still the broken child returns,
in shreds of drunken play.
They thought they chose to go and fight,
but Fate held tight their hands,
to lead them on that sightless path
where consciousness was damned.
They didn't talk these wounded men,
who straggled back from death,
and when they could they suckled
at forgettings fulsome breasts.
a : having no regard to rational discrimination, guidance, or restriction <blind choice>
b : lacking a directing or controlling consciousness <blindchance>
c : drunk
http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2012/09/trifecta-week-forty-four.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+trifectawritingchallenge%2FIazs+%28Trifecta%29
b : lacking a directing or controlling consciousness <blindchance>
c : drunk
http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2012/09/trifecta-week-forty-four.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+trifectawritingchallenge%2FIazs+%28Trifecta%29
A tragic story beautifully written. I can see the men who, "...straggled back from death...".
ReplyDeleteSadly lumdog, so could all those who loved them but they often did not realise why they were the way they were.
DeleteThis is absolutely mesmerizing. Wonderful work.
ReplyDeletedk
Thanks Donna. My father lied about his age and was 17 when he went to war. I only realised as an adult the part it played in who he was.
DeleteAs I already told you, Roslyn, this piece moved me to tears. Well written, you have a lot to say in a clear and concise manner.
ReplyDeleteLaura, I am touched by your words. I suspect my experience, tragically, was not uncommon then or now.
DeleteSuch a sad story. Beautifully written.
ReplyDeleteThanks Bo.
DeleteYou made me smile Flippa. The most important thing is not that it 'wins' anything but that it resonates.:)
ReplyDeleteA great response. Beautifully expressed sadness. It does move one.
ReplyDeleteLoved this bit: "They thought they chose to go and fight,
ReplyDeletebut Fate held tight their hands,
to lead them on that sightless path
where consciousness was damned. " Well done.
I felt this poem. I have a young cousin back from two tours in Afghanistan. He drinks to forget.
ReplyDeleteI think the Second World War was the last war when soldiers could in any truth believe they were fighting with integrity - as in fighting with some just cause. Vietnam, Korea, Cambodia, Iraq, Afghanistan are wars of invasion and occupation against nations which pose us no threat. It must be so hard to fight and kill and face being killed in such wars. It is no wonder the suicide rates are so high.
DeleteBeautiful piece: My favorite lines: and still a boy who drinks so deep
ReplyDeleteof grief he barely knows
This is gorgeous - a lovely tribute that is meaningful without being overly sentimental. I love the third stanza, and the last one too.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful poem. This is evocative without being, like trudging said, sentimental. Very powerful. Great job with the prompt.
ReplyDelete