pebbles on a beach
cubes in an underground vault
human lives lived in
interstices of cement —
blocks of space & blocks of time
..
friday the thirteenth —
lately there is no exit
no waking dream no
ingenious solution
to resolve nightmare deadlock
..
Bataclan Paris
organised barbarism —
paleolithic curse
two tribes live side by side
each one the barbarians
..
‘ . . . gunman in the eye
he was young in his twenties
calmly reloading’
..
whorled calcium shells
dissolve into fatal white dust
clouds of destruction
..
‘ran to lighting room
right of stage —ten people there
there was no exit
we had run from one trap to
next — we waited for silence
..
‘. . . . reloading their guns
so we ran across the stage
saw them firing on
piles of people in the room
my eyes saw scene of carnage
..
woman twice wounded
bleeding losing consciousness
carried her to exit’
..
others hung from
upstairs window sills — let go
hobbled down back street
..
‘they strafed restaurant
as one we fell to the floor
we stayed there for a minute
..
‘I noticed woman
next to me — she was
fatally wounded’
her reporter’s voice without
any trace of emotion
..
rules of warfare changed
some time between world war 2 &
Vietnam conflict
and the current day — so who
are the barbarians?
..
. . . interrupt this nightmare
to bring bodies piled three deep —
pebbles on fraught beach
..
Entrevaux’s mayor
checks his watch one more time
then leads whole village
through narrow streets to midday
at Porte d’Italie
..
steps into dignity
stands on war memorial
requests a minute’s silence
..
through tears we read the
rollcall of world war one
dead for liberté
égalité fraternité
a century ago
..
in clear blue midi sky
we read the names of fresh victims —
neoteric glimpse
..
public commemoration
of héros morts pour la patrie
not an empty gesture as
thousands pay respect —
wherever they stand
..
in this shared moment
we have processed to vision
of next terrible war
..
Reblogged this on reubenwoolley.
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Reblogged this on helenmaywilliams and commented:
I’ve been following French coverage of events of Friday 13th. It feels to me as if this is a significant moment in history, as a left wing French president acknowledges that his country is ‘at war’. I’m not sure that anything will be quite the same again in the West after this.
So, here is a poem that sums up my sense of the past three days.
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Reblogged this on Carolyn O' Connell.
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