It’s often said
this world isn’t concrete,
we just perceive it to be,
as our five true senses
cannot deal with the
perception is, after all,
nine tenths of the flaw.
Do we really need to bomb more people,
kill thousands indiscriminately and maim?
In whose name?
I’ve been to the Middle East,
and it appears to me
most people want to live in peace.
Those once foreign lands
far across the sea,
are just like ours,
it’s only a matter of geography.
Barbaric, hideous, callous terrorists?
But remember the Crusades,
Our own ‘God’ inspired conquest
of foreign climes?
‘What’s mine is mine
And what’s yours is mine.’
All the tyrants in every land
Eventually fall by the people’s hand.
The death, the misery, the pain?
A drop in the ocean
beside the payload of one of those planes.
You don’t make friends,
or keep them,
by bombing a neighbour.
Instead of just having to fight IS
We are more than adding to their distress.
Andrew Marvell, Daffodils, George Gordon Byron, If, Paul Andrew Russell, Poem, Poet, Poetry, Robert Southey, Rudyard Kipling, Rupert Brooke, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, She Walks in Beauty, Some Favourite Poets and Poems, The Inchcape Rock, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, The Soldier, To His Coy Mistress, Wiliam Wordsworth
When I was young I Marvelled at
the beauty of Andrew’s mistress
and became a Lord walking
beside beauty in the night,
and while wandering amongst daffodils
began to realise what a Word’s Worth.
I heard the Inchcape bell
while voyaging on Southey’s seas
and met an old Mariner
who’d traversed a Cold Ridge
to meet a soldier by a Brook
who, If he’d taken Rudy’s advice
maybe would have lived a better life.