Saturday, 10 May 2014

Post War Blues

In my earliest dreams, before I had language, I
Walked through a landscape of desolation and fear:
Darkness, explosions and burning all around as I...
Ran through fields and blackness and...
Warscapes.... which I never knew but.
Born in 63, I inherited a
Memory of war through
Movies, and parents and games in the playground where
Guns and bombs were part of it all and
Old air raid shelters littered the city and we
Played in old cars and pretended we were
NOT nazis and we
SHOT nazis and we slept
Safe in our beds with nylon sheets and we
Didn't know what it meant to be hungry and we
Didn't know what it was to feel fear: the
Scariest thing in our day to day business was the
Man who ran out of his house to shout because we played
Cricket against his wall.

Late 1960's and war just
Twodecades away.

Every night I walked through
Desolation and
Bomb blasts:
In the dark with
Tongues of flame rising and
Bombs dropping and
Planes flying overhead.

Post war.
Post war blues.

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