Showing posts with label War. Show all posts
Showing posts with label War. Show all posts

Friday, 26 April 2013

War! What Is It Good For?


Hello there. Anzac Day is upon us. While I've never actually attended a dawn service, I do have some very deep thoughts regarding war, and have had ever since I was a little girl. In fact, I wrote a poem about it, when I was a mere ten years old. It is truly heartfelt. That, or just a woeful example of exactly how much Enid Blyton I was reading at the time.  I'm sure if it had been about a cheery subject I would have managed to put in the phrases 'smashing' and 'jolly good' somewhere. Here it is, complete with my spelling mistakes:

DISASTEROUS WAR:

War is a disastrous sight,
War is a beastly fight,
You can hear the blasting,
Oh war is so everlasting,
War is gloom, its such a doom,
I hope it stops very soon.

War is death, it takes away your breath.
War is blood running in a stream,
War is being strictly mean,
If you think war is not a fight,
It's a awful,disatrous, terrible sight,
War is blood pouring, guns roaring.
War is hand grenades flying,
People crying, also dying,
You work all day, in a blood-thirsty way,
War is madness, but if you think
deep down, it's only sadness

Now the war is gone, I hope it's gone
for good because I don't want it back so soon after
all this awful gloom. People
die, cry, fight. Oh I don't want
that destructive sight!
Guns roar, blood pours,
You can't think how people cry,
because their beloved friends did die
Oh I hope the war doesn't
come again
For I really must think of the
lives of those men.

My year 5 poem, dated 28th April, 1981. At the bottom
the teacher wrote: 'Some deep thoughts, try not to
repeat yourself.'  Hmph. Didn't she recognise
my brilliance?

Yep, such brilliance. I'm not sure why I didn't become the next Sylvia Plath after that effort. It's hard to pick out which is my favourite line, with such stunning observations as: War is death, it takes away your breath. Yeah, that is kind of what happens when you die, dear.

War! What is it good for? Absolutely NUTHIN'!! According to Bruce Springsteen and myself, at the mature age of ten.  Genius. I mean, just check out that rhyming: War is gloom, it's such a doom, I hope it stops very soon. Why did I stop when I was on such a roll? I could have went on:

Those guns keep going
BOOM, BOOM, BOOM,
I'd rather hear a happy tune,
Before I am a total loon!

OH MY GOD! *gasp* I've still got it! I'm a poet and I didn't know it!! I need to get back to it immediately. Otherwise I am completely wasting my genius. And what does a ten year old, budding,  tragic bogan, genius poet look like? I'm glad you asked. Observe.

My Year 5 school photo, when I was still cute. Sigh.

Thank God my Mum had the foresight to keep my old school books. She must have know I was going to be broke and aimless rich and famous one day. She always said I was special. Now I see why. There is nothing more to add after the blinding brilliance of that poem. I've already left you stunned.

Linking up an oldie but goodie for Life This Week.


What do you think about war? Have you written any awful brilliant poetry?