Long Anzac Poems
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“Anzac Day, it happened this way”.
I remember her now, every Anzac Day,
a sacred day I cannot. celebrate.
She was his wife, only seventeen.
He was just 19, their lives had just begun,
She jumped into his grave,
She kept screaming out his name,
She hugged his coffin and wouldn’t let go,
They pulled her out, screaming in pain.
She screamed, I’ll love you…forever.
As we pulled the trigger and fired, time and again.
She jumped into his grave, screaming out his name,
She hugged his coffin and wouldn’t let go,
They pulled her off his coffin, screaming in pain.
She screamed, I’ll love you…forever, I’ll never let go.
As we pulled the trigger, and fired time again.
He died in agony, blood, guts, gore.
He died for politicians’ egos, and lies, he
died in agony, in pain, screaming,
begging Jesus, and calling her name.
I've lost my religion, a religion called war.
The Army gave him a number,
and took away his name.
The padre spoke the eulogy.
I baptized him, I married him. Now, I must bury him.
I cannot imagine her pain.
But we all loved Jesus?
as we loaded our rifles, and it started to rain.
and fired into the air, time and time again.
she screamed in terror and cried out in pain.
I'm such an ******* I can’t remember his name.
After the service, the mourners had gone.
But still,
She laid on his grave digging away, screaming,
I’ll love you…forever, I’ll never let go.
• This is non-fiction it happened that way.
APoem For ANZAC Day
25 April 2015
One hundred years on and
Old enemies are now friends
So often the way of the world
After conflicts ends.
And that War
To End All Wars
Just laid the foundations
For so many more.
From Suvla Bay to Basra,
To our modern days,
The world remains ruled by
Ever more aggressive ways.
Do the shades of the fallen
From a Valhalla somewhere
Look at the turning world
And sigh with despair.
Was their sacrifice wasted:
Were any lessons learned;
Did the people benefit
From any victory earned.
Do they draw the curtains
Shut out the view
Very little changes
Very little is new.
One hundred years further on
A very different where and when
May greet those restless shades
With curtains drawn back again:
A new world maybe emerged
With conflicts all long done,
That War To End All wars
Having finally been won.
I hasd the honour of reading this to the congregation at the ANZAC Day Rembrance Service in Hull 2015. The Australian High Commissioner and a Senior AAF were in attendance. It was written fr the occasion
Twenty twenty oh...The virtue and trite.' Sky
ABC..9 and 7 all channelling, smiles bright similar to those fixed on cadavers? A sign of past times. Yet like a bell without chimes, and the adverts for free burgers mate they were also free.' Have snack be a
Hero.' Maybe you'll get world status..Maybe? Appealling to our best was
The worst they could due.' Meanwhile orders from switzerland..Well they were in train too.' Just not being announced although long arrived.' That come twenty twenty three would make it a test for some to survive..yet back to the ( tickers ) on the
Bottom of TV screens the posturing the
sense of ' International co-hession' how
Would our Aussie be seen.? Andrew Bolt he was a bold one Ben Fordham and more
I didn't hear much on Lawsy..Then we lost
Him for sure.' Mark Hobart a honest Doctor
And others of note, took the hits raised theirconcerns and Did Nick Patterson get some flack.. Now the heros are visible
At home and worldwide Novac of the
Tennis court.' Though they locked him inside.' Then the emails got opened and
The planes came into land.' Agenda twenty
Thirty..And primarily aimed at our land.' You see we were..We were.' The beacon they had to put out..' a good living free
Nation ' the world aspired to our ethos' without a doubt.' And we being far enough away ( could be a seeding ground?) A place of reason and re-grouping for when
They brought the curtains down.. Now bloody wake up Australia.' Get out on the streets, get to the tent citys get your people
Back on their feet.' You should listen to Bosi.' Though he's not right on everything
And Scottys another.' Hey just give them a
Ring.' Get into your ANZAC.' and humanity
Again.' You will find there the anti-dote
For this clearly induced pain.'
..they were sent by those
who sat upon pedestals so high
whose life was sheltered and dry
and saw the new days bright shining light
and they were the ones...
who kept their hands fresh and clean
by sending others to do their evil bidding
in a another's land, a land far from home
no...they were not the ones
who saw a sea ebb and flow...red
and watched as the tide washed up broken bodies
climbed the cliffs as hell rained down from above
who watched as the blood poured
from the lifeless bodies of their mates
no...they were not the ones
who waited for the dreaded whistle blow
the sound that could signal the end of your days
and trotted through the blood soaked mud
thinking your next step could be your last
no...they were not the ones
who saw summer be replace by winterr
lived in the muddy trenches of hell
wearing the wet and cold as a second skin
smelling death and fending off cat sized rats
saw the mundane days became a war within a war
no...they weren't the one's...
and...they were not the ones...
who woke screaming at night
drenched in sweat
reliving their journeys through hell
had the vacant stare
with a tremor tortured body
a young life taken by a hidden plague
no...they did not...
forged a new culture for a nation
be written into folklore
and be called
courageous
valiant
heroes
---------------------------------------------------------
remembering the ANZAC`s...lest we forget
On july 21'st 1942, seventy seven ANZAC
militia, had a breath taking view.' Imperial
Jappanese forces fourteen thousand strong..Moved upon Kokoda they moved
Back let them take the village, yet soon the
Test would be on.! They fanned out in the
Jungle; each side of that thin trail, the first Firefight was soon joined, and forty enemies died all entailed, six Aussies out of
Action, now only 71 guns full strength, they had
Decided their tactics, exact a toll for each
pace lent...Every foot of this track.'
Every inch would cost real dear.' They intended to drive into the Jappanese forces, pangs of caution and
fear, after a week the advace was at a
crawl, Jappanese deaths now in
Hundreds.' And the Aussies began recieving calls..Douglas MacArthur exclaimed and complained.' They were cowards going backwards.' They should be immovable on that bloody trail, he railed.' They were having none of it..By now the Jappanese were
Much slower moving , both sides had
Dysentry and maleria and skin ulcers..
And old MacArther he still
Railed..Third week and two hundred
ANZACS reinforced the gallant few, their
Punishment escalated the Jappanese still
Trying to push through.' By the twenty forth
Of September they were 450 men strong
So they began ' counter attacking' hitting
out strong.' We all know the story they
drove on to the sea..Smashing the enemy
Who were now on their knees.' Old Doug
MacArther..Here I give him his dues addmited his under-estimation.' The ANZACS did know what to do.' He hailed
Them as fearless ( for their time best in the
World ) and soon we will see Australia day
All credit.' And honour my praises i hurl.'
At
To the feet of the 77..And those who
joined the fray
In who kept freedoms light burning,
and their country itself un-dimmed those days,
It could have been disaster.' Upon that tough dirt trail, but the ANZACS endured their country
They never failed..So stand up Australia on
The twenty sixth to celebrate the spirit that
Thats uniqely in your mix.' Play march and
Celebrate..Under the clear blue skies..its
All to do.' C'mon and see your great
country through.
In peacefull celebrations flood the streets
And parks and beaches, too this a time ( that belongs to you' )
2024.4.25. Thursday
It was ANZAC day, a public holiday.
It was our 2nd trip, we visited SR.
Misjudged the weather, cloudy and windy,
Crossed the bridge twice
Misread the bus time table,
Ended up wasting lot of time,
Sitting at the bus stop waiting.
The weather was drilled, the sky was grey,
The wind was brushing on our faces,
It was cool than expected.
On the way back to Melbourne,
You expressed your disappointment.
Our V-Line coach moved slowly,
Tagging along some transporting vehicles,
Which carried lot of cattles.
All of a sudden, you became so silent,
No more curiousity questions.
I observed and saw uou pulled your face long,
I asked "What was wrong?".
You said you always have special place in your heart,
For these unfortune animals.
You starred your eyes as turned your head to one side,
I looked out the window and actual saw the cows,
Gazed at us with their sorrow eyes.
The next day, I messaged you
I was so sorry the trip had some unpleasant situation.
You replied that you were hurt,
Not only your toes but also in your heart.
I simply shook my head and stated.
"Sorry B, could not help you, mate"
It was our second trip,
It also turned out to be our second last trip.
I still could not believe it.
It has been exactly one year,
Since we did it.
How could you be so cold blooded,
Able to end our friendship
And wipe off all the memories.
I wished I could forget everything including you.
There shall be this day,
When I do not even remember who you are.
Today, after 366 days, the memories
Of the entire trip flashed back to my heart
To warm me. once BB and I
Had have a good time travelled together.
I am now on my way travel to Bright,
Where I should be brightened up
With the colourful bright autumn leaves,
Rustling of the leaves on the maples trees
Which line up nicely along the streets of this city.
I have come here at least three times
This shall be the fourth and the last
Without my friend BB and any of them.
If I am forgotten
I want you to know
as the blinding light of summer
turns to fall,
a shimmer,
daffodils turn to seed,
drifting on the breeze
I am walking to forget you
another part of me
runs eternity to forgive you,
once I was within
thee a breath of life
binding our blood
your joy was my blessing
your sadness, shared
Anzac and incense
my sense of you,
whenever the terror of night
grips me,
thoughts wander to safer times
sleeping back to back with you
bright red tartan splashes my memories
huddled in linen castles,
our torches held high
searchlights to adventure
you taught me to walk
maybe even talk
and then one day you forgot me
if I am forgotten
I want you to know
far and wide my travels
have taken me walkabout,
but I never could forget you
A soldier's tale about young Grover,
Though black, his duty called him over,
He survived the Front's futility,
Came home after 1918,
With his medals for bravery,
With valour, he beat the Hun,
Back here, society did him shun,
He came home, no man's slave,
Old comrades did not even wave,
As he marched in the Anzac Parade,
To them, he was an affront,
Though he battled on the Western Front,
He learnt that there was no change,
Their attitudes seemed very strange,
With him, they did not hob nob,
He had no hope of landing a job,
So, he sold his medals for grog from the pub,
Died alone, with his libation of love,
He had fought with such bravery,
But could not survive this bigotry,
Died under a bridge, his short life over,
Sad little tale, a soldier called Grover.
a boys own adventure has now begun
on a beach blazed under a Turkish sun
we`re here to take land from the evil Hun
and are told we are doing this for everyone
orders were given from the mother home
without question we followed this master plan
to the bitter end we do not stray or roam
for we have virtue, honor, are not statues or stone
my heart thumped when eyeing the coasts first outline
now`s not the time to say your final goodbye s
from a boy to a man my life changed in no time
life is so precise no-one can say not, or deny
across the grey sand I did toil
as bullets rained from a cliff top hide
I raced across a blood stained soil
letting bravery; be my one true guide
we lived in trenches dank and bitterly cold
and stayed firm, in this muddy stranglehold
the muck daily grew to such amounts as tenfold
it became a daily battle, to fight off the dreaded mould
when the whistle blew it was run, run, run
for life is too precious for your time to come
someone called out "they shoot to kill not to stun"
and "remember to them you`re just a pun"
death kept raining down from up in their hide
my mate got shot and in my arms he bloody died
letting courage and bravery be my one true guide
for this is not a place to curl up, and cry
we need to keep our mates trusty by our side
so we stand tall, show them our one true pride
we can`t let the Hun conquer or divide
to let the utopian dream become a dirty lie
the months went by from wet to dry
to the last breath we would battle on, to deny
but we were quickly using our bullet supply
while some prayed te gods, in heavens sky
a lonely old tree sits on a hilltop so high
it became a symbol, for freedoms life
----------
on this day April 25
we remember the young lives that quickly ran by
while giving us their ultimate; sacrifice
A Poem Of WW1
ANZAC Day
25th April 2018
Let’s have at Johnny Turk
Winston Churchill said,
We’ll secure the Dardanelles,
Keep our Russian trade fed.
His words so casually uttered
May have had to be eaten
Johnny Turk was well Generalled
And not so easily beaten.
The naval campaign to start
Was, at a price, repelled,
The following land invasion
Was resisted and held.
After eight cruel months
Our forces were withdrawn
Half a million dead and wounded
Left for both sides to mourn.
They came from India, New Zealand,
Australia, Canada, Europe as well
Only to leave their bones
In Gallipoli’s Hell.
And so it ended,
A campaign of disaster
With massive repercussion
Felt for so long after.
Constantinople never taken,
The Ottoman Empire in shreds,
Turkey arisen from the ashes which
Gallipoli General Attaturk led.
Words attributed to Attaturk
On a plaque overlooking the Bay
Honouring the dead of all Nations
Still stands to this very day.
Eighty one cemeteries and memorials
Now overlook that battle’s scene
The only mute and grim reminder
That a disastrous campaign had been.
And so we parade each year
To respect and honour the memories,
Of those that survived and those
Resting in foreign cemeteries.
This Poem was read out by Padre Ralph Catts, our Honorary Padre, at Hull Cenotaph ANZAC Day Parade. I had the honour of laying a wreath on behalf of Hull Veteran Support Centre. The Poem was written for the occaision.