Tag: WWI
-
The Unplanned Sun
You can have ties that bind Or goodbyes all the time; Robert Graves’ sand-drawn line. In my mind Her licked thumb perfecting my patina Gina tying my tie before I went out with a Pope-due fuss Someone mutters to instant hush Candles on guttering-cusp widen like o’erfed childs Sound-roused, back to the line Having been…
-
Lost and found
Once was lost, now am found I cut the branch, golden bough Find your Special Branch, the gun go blauwe I’m Chulainn’s hound cooling down after a spate of crimes I’m laying low in my home estate after an eight star chase. Back at the ranch, second tranche Second time in France, sign the contract…
-
Inner City Oldtime
Our own tongue throat stranger And failing to nourish will or may perish We pause, wishing to answer betters in Irish Cannot know a lost language Vanishes, we answer in English Less than swill of which our Liffey consists. What is Irishness What is native wit? Slack jaws guffawing Slenting houses built from haunted bricks…
-
Raiding in blue
Caked, tugged at, sucked back, slowgoing, wading Lost Tommies shelldefeaned leadpregnant Advancing slowly whilst grenaded Man insane to go against machines Without officer’s baton and ironed strides. Imagining ranks of young Frenchmen Artists and teachers, future lynchpins Of society and pillars, perhaps, some Sons prodigal, the rum-dumbed But none death deserving None so numb to…