Category: poetry

Was That Really Me?

Was that really me,
signed his life away
fresh-faced, innocent
marched North
then sailed East
to unknown seas?

Fuelled by anticipation,
anchored by camaraderie,
that boy who crawled
through jungle deep
weathered Burma heat
and nightmarish infestations,
adrenaline pumping
infiltrated enemy lines
unarmed, feckless
nursed fears with booze
adopted false bravado.

Was that really me,
that man who emerged
hard-edged, battle-weary,
whose medals of bravery,
buried now, speak more
of loss, and horror
than triumph –

And who is this,
whose rage intimidates
with trigger-sharp precision,
who ravages all that is dear
ideals slaughtered,
hopes destroyed,
whose enemy
now dwells within?

(Today is Remembrance Day.  Spurred by the prompts of Reena’s Exploration Challenge – “Was that really me?”  and Ragtag Community’s “bravery“, I have tried to put myself in my father’s shoes.  He fought for the British Commandos during WWII, and in hindsight, suffered PTSD.)

 

 

Eating Wiener Schnitzel

He craves Wiener Schnitzel
and egg rolls –
complicated request –
they settle on
Austrian, forgo
the Chinese.

Noise of the place
disconcerts her –
rather be home
or somewhere quieter
(though she’d never say),
insecurity slides in
as resentment
pulls up a chair –

How is she dining here
with indifference?

Restaurants take her back
when the heat of the kitchen
consumed her –
yelled orders,
yelled at,
rush to cater
tip or no tip

A real education,
her Father said,
but sore feet and
a broken back
left her none the wiser

Stuffiness of ochre walls,
brocade upholstery
close in, reminder
of former lovers,

She doesn’t even like milk-fed calf

Mind wanders to other walls,
now crumbled, remnants
of dreams, boundaries
set when pup- like
loyalty won hearts,
shattered her own.

So many failures
she is ashamed
feels like a stray
living off scraps

It’s a rocky path
she travels these days
solid ground a forgotten
concept, teetering
on brink of flight
no legs to carry her

Resigns herself
to Wiener Schnitzel
convinced that compromise
matters more than
personal fulfillment –

Takes a bite of baby cow and smiles.

(Eating Wiener Schnitzel first appeared here November 2016.  This edition is edited.  Image from personal collection.)

Spotted Sandpiper

A succession of tweets
draws me to riverbed
where tiny legs scurry
across exposed rocks.

Foraging amongst
soggy offerings,
the Spotted Sandpiper
exudes confidence.

It is female who
choses breeding ground,
prepared to defend
her clan, appoints

her mates to mind
the young – she is
polyamorous, hormone
driven – a force.

(For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day.)