War Is Never

I am a pacifist 

I believe war is never the answer 

I believe one life lost in a war 

is one too many.

I was never a soldier

I never fought in a war 

I was never pushed out of the back of an aeroplane

to dangle by a thread

dropping to a probable death

high over enemy held territory - and neither was my father.

He and his father - my Grandad

lived in a pit village

my Grandad worked in a coal mine

coal mining was a reserved occupation 

and as such

miners were not called-up to fight for their country in conventional ways

he worked to dig out coal 

the coal the country needed to fight a war

for its power stations

power for its factories 

factories to make munitions 

munitions to fight a war

coal to power the trains to get it to where it was needed

so my Grandad was never a soldier either- unless you count being in the 'Home Guard' as being a soldier

ready in the evenings and weekends when he wasn't working at the pit

he never belonged to a regiment 

he never fought and died in a famous battle

he never lost endless comrades.

he never got any medals

and is not buried in a far off land

Now don't think I don't care

don't believe I can't see what those who fought and died - gave

for I know so many gave everything.

My relatives gave

but they gave in a different way.

My thinking is shaped by my history 

as much as yours is too

I don't sit and muse over my Grandparents medals - as perhaps you might

I don't have their uniforms in my loft

nor have I copies of their war records.

If you think harshly of what you've just read - read my words again.

...I believe war is never the answer.

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Funerals

Funerals - great aren't they!

They are a good time for extended families to get together

for some families 

a funeral is the only time they get together 

It's always good to meet up 

it's a great opportunity to renew old grudges 

with relatives you never got on with

to sit around and try to work out what people are really thinking

and to smile at people you don't know ...but should

and try to work out if you're related to them or not

and if so - how

...and why!

there's often food 

you get a free lunch or afternoon tea laid on 

full of things you can't eat 

or simply don't like

it usually rains

you're in a cold church you're not familiar with 

you get to sit on hard pews 

and sing songs you don't believe in

from a religion you don't subscribe to

all in a somber mood

then spend an afternoon in a village hall

making small talk with strangers...

"Yes I know, they were big weren't they!"

but you do get to pay your respects for the passing of someone close - well an extended family member anyway!

 

Funerals - great aren't they!

Scary Thoughts

It's the 'bogeyman' that haunts our sleep

forces us into counting sheep

fills our mind with scary thoughts

the chance of recooperation thwarts

he slips out quietly from where he hides

behind us - laying on our sides

and fills our minds with scary thoughts  our total logical cognition distorts

uncertain darkness makes perception flee

our brains fill gaps our eyes can't see

which fills our minds with scary thoughts 

a monster howls; a demon snorts

"go to sleep there's nothing there!"

too late our mind is now aware

and fills our head with scary thoughts

of beasts of every size and sorts 

as we lay safe in our warm beds

...you know the bogeyman 

is just In our heads!

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(Haiku)

They have their world on 

their mobiles but not their minds 

on what's around them

Tittle Tattle

It was Mr Pym who runs the gym

who said Mr Gummer - he's our plumber

had mate

Mr Tilda - he's the builder 

who's doing our extension 

admidst all this tension 

he knew the lady - Mrs Maxi, 

she the one who drives the taxi

who caught Mr Mickey - he's the brickie

"laying bricks" if you you know what I mean

with her - at number 2-15

and the mother-in-law 

said she saw 

Mrs Meacher - you know the teacher

with Mrs Top - at the corner shop

and felt she saw Mr Mars - he the one who fixes cars

kissing Mrs Hatcher - she the one who married the thatcher 

Mr Catt - or something like that

then set light to the bar 

which belonged to Mrs Parr

so they called the nurse in somewhat of a hurry,   

I think her name is - Mrs Curry

and of course PC Hopper - the local copper

was dragged from his bed

it was his own one they said

because Mr Goad - who mends the road

said he knew they wouldn't get through

for the high street was closed 

a detour imposed

for Mr Proctor was "under the doctor"

Dr Dean - if you know what I mean

and that Mrs Palmer - the local farmer

eloped with Mr Smithern-Bain 

you know the posh bloke with the plane!

Well that's what they said 

no truer word

...I think that's the story

         so I heard!

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Morning

It's morning 

any morning 

every morning 

this morning 

yesterday morning 

probably tomorrow morning

neighbours leave their houses

some on foot

some on bikes

some head to the station

some in cars

some with others

some without

some pack their children and all their stuff

...some get in alone.

Morning sounds are heard

fumbling keys

slamming doors

barking dogs

starting engines

passing trains

raised voices

arguments!

then vehicles disperse

The mechanic sets his noisy steed into life - off to fix broken cars

Mums with toddlers - noisily walk 

School girls in a huddle - tap on screens  

regretting the length of their skirts

teachers with briefcases - off to influence young minds

rail engineers sleep - after a night keeping our railways safe

plumbers out to fix leaks 

install

mend - anything that involves water 

some in suits and lanyards 

to move money around?

insure things?

sell things?

design things?

lecture on things - who knows?

Vintners go to sell bottles of

petrol station cashiers to keep the country moving

supermarket workers to keep us all fed

health workers to keep us well

entrepreneurs to carry on running all those companies that we can't do without

and those lucky enough not to have to leave...

...sleep on!

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