Can't find
your Jimi Hendrix
tee-shirt;

I liked it
when you wore it
last year;

the whole 60s image
fitted you well,
your laid back stance,

the beard, moustache,
the humour sharp,
but not unkind.

We looked
for the Hendrix
tee-shirt everywhere,

but couldn't find.
You were my Stoic
philosopher;

I thought you
immortal
to a degree,

the one
who would outlast
us all,

be the one
to arrange us
from this

mortal coil,
but you went first,
death stole you twice,

the second time
for good,
the final kiss

and goodbye,
my son,
watching you die.

I bury my son
the rain falls
cold wet and miserable
I reach for something to say
but I am dumb
struck so
by your demise

We dressed you
in your sweatshirt
and trainers
the clothes had your
smell about them
I waited for you to speak
“Hi Dad I'm home”
but there was only silence

I wake in the middle
of the night
with thoughts of you
and what we might do
that day
then a wave
of remembrance
sweeps over me
and I remember
you are dead

A handful of soil
is my final act
which spatters
where your face
should be
the rain quickly
turning it to mud

I turn away
and see you
in the distance
watching us
as salted rain
runs off my nose

I want to cry out
your name
and ask why?
why and how
we came to this
a father laying his son
to rest
as the world
carries on with
it's own business
oblivious to our
grief
Goodbye my son
I may forgive God
in time
A long, long time

a simple touch away
a breath, a whisper,
a forgotten dream
a remembered smile

I cannot see
nor hear you
cannot touch
nor feel you

yet I know
you are here
my soul tells me so

thus has it been
since the moment
I died

Ethnic Cleansing


You
Blinked in the sun
The laughter ended
Young children lay
Seemingly bathing
As blood ran
From their wounds
Seeping into
The bright green grass
Turning it black
like your soul
You
Gun in hand
Dry eyed
Wept imaginary tears
Imagined fears
Fulfilled
Children’s lives stilled

Bundled rags,
As much a bed
As clothes,
Hang forlorn
From limp hand
That shakes
Spasmodically
As tears mingle with
Dirt fleck mist
Father, Mother
Grandma
Granddad
Sweet sister
Baby brother
All gone
On the train
Leaving you behind
To weep
At your loss
Now
And forever
In the future

This then
The last train
To Auschwitz-Birkenau

My daughter’s
Happy smiling face
At three years of age
Ran through my mind and
Stayed long enough to
Make me smile
As the roadside bomb
Blew her memory
And me
To bits

I barely heard the shot
The dull thud that
Sent your head rocking
This way and that
Surprised you gasped
An 'oh' and I
Felt you slump

I tried so hard
In vain
To contain
The bone and brain
So as not to lose
Any part of you but
There was too
Much blood for me
To stem the flow

In death as in life
You covered me
With your warmth