he remembers the autumn of 1942 when the troops moved forward
before Stalingrad fell and winter crushed bodies and minds under fire
tanks pulverizing soldiers and some falling by the wayside on purpose
to end the war and find heaven or hell which one did not really matter
food parcels from the home front and letters to family or sweethearts
but victory had already become sour and Heils and raised arms tired
he survived with scars and vowed never again to be hungry or cold
the pantry always full and heating in summer full blast at 28 degrees
the will to live planted some sort of serenity though emotions and pain
would be never expressed to his offspring for the shells were still there
when final defeat was sealed and an innocent youth had been stolen
he played hide and seek with fellow survivors young men by that time
in the end seasons were kind and soothed guilt and following orders
he learnt to appreciate the turn of events and spinning of the earth
changed ribbons and medals for flowers and bees in the hedgerows
and promised to fight for peace instead of rape pillage and murder
21st August 2020
Rough Landscape
In my mind the landscape of Guernica features high on the many
crowbars to unmask that inner prison of conscience and humanity
So many scenes of destruction with no predominant hierarchy of evil
no glass ceiling of guilt so many tapestries of loving lives abandoned
A museum piece in Madrid with no doubt yet an exhibition of madness
displayed on the altar of what we as people have become and behold
Life would not have me nor would I have my life if my father had not
escaped what now is Kaliningrad on one of the last boats ‘cross the sea
As a German court has decreed soldiers are murderers and my Dad
has therefore been one of those martial slayers in history’s temple
There is not much left of the City of Prussian ambition and blasts
from the past just mainly a naval harbour and renegade socialist pride
A rebuilt cathedral and memories of amber and marzipan shared but
I hear Hitler Youths shouting their ‘Heils’ in absurd pubertal screams
For my own sanity and resolution of trans-generational disgrace I need
to visit my beginnings to start telling the story how to scape inner Peace
01st May 2017