Tag Archives: Memory

Ein Deutscher Soldat

I was frightened, of course, when we took to the air,

I’d never been over the German Ocean before,

but I was reminded as I looked across to my right

of safety in numbers in this bomber flight.

.

The Sun was still licking the line of the Norfolk shore

as we wheeled inland toward Coltishall.

We were so many and you just one of The Few,

me and nametag on station at the bomb door

.

It didn’t take long to win your fight between dogs

then you wheeled left to turn your cannon on us

I was in perfect health, had family and friends

but when my plane hit the trees all that came to an end.

.

No one survived to answer where was I last seen

only my enemy found me, un-named, not missing

~

n.b. NaPoWriMo Day Eight prompt: monologue from the grave, after ‘Spoon River Anthology’ by Edgar Lee Masters, Gutenburg eBook. http://www.gutenberg.org/files/1280/1280-h/1280-h.htm#chap137 (Accessed 08/04/2021)

I found the above gravestone in the village cemetery on the outskirts of Scottow village, Norfolk. How, I wonder, does someone die and get buried without being known? The German airmen buried around him were all identified. I thought it a thoughtful touch that he was buried with named graves either side.

NaPoWriMo

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CLP 08/04/2021

Can I come in? It’s not safe out there

…it never has been, I thought

I read the news, have seen the stats

hear the doppler rise and fall of sirens

bouncing off the city walls insistent

on untrammelled passage

scrambling wits of locked in drivers

blocked in lanes unsure quite where

the blue lights approach from

or head toward, what they are

and who they’re for

.

May I? For a moment, until it clears.

Could it ever, I wondered after

weeks, months, years have passed?

Some still remember how it felt

to bump accidentally into friends

or brew a fight with a stranger

or catch the light in a smile

(while sharing a smoke at the cool side-door)

agreeing to something a little more intimate

~

n.b. NaPoWriMo 2021 Day 6 Prompt, take a line from a story as a prompt, then write the poem, then

“Actually, one of them was supposed to come today, but because of the commotion going on out there they sent me instead.” 

From Samsa in Love by Haruki Murakami first published in The New Yorker, republished in Desire Vintage Classics / Penguin Random House (London, 2017).

~

CLP 06/04/2021

NaPoWriMo

L3(Day 70): Underground

While we stumble around up here, the moles are busy churning through the soil, turning up the earth into little mounds of fine tilth as they go about their usual business.

Meanwhile I try to remember what usual business might mean; try to maintain a balanced perspective; try not to create insurmountable mountains from the everyday ordinary.

~

CLP 17/03/2021

On Playing x

Can you still call up that glee

in the pit of your guts

when wind picked up leaves and dust

devils spun the whole playground

into a delirious flock of crows

performing flips and twists

free-falling then swooping

up to hang on the vacuum formed

in the lee of a Scots Pine clump?

.

Arms out, fingers splayed like primaries

we whirled across the tarmac playing

kiss chase, ran ragged from wall to wall

making clattered flat-footed stops

and rushed to touch HOME! bricks

lungs aching from screams and squeals

of delight at being chased and disgust

at being caught and held and bumped

heads as a dry peck on chin, cheeks

or an eyelid or brow (only accidently lips)

except that wild day you let me

and it was so revolting and I ran away

and all the girls and boys joined in

the chase and held me while you kissed me

back and shouted out

with all your gut of glee

to the wind-whipped cheers of all

including the dinner ladies too

I HATE YOU, CHRISTOPHER PERRY!

~

n.b. Picture above shows that hateful Perry boy, now embodied in a larger frame, but with same lockdown (3) hair.

CLP 23/01/2021