Nov 2018
"...FRESHER FIELDS THAN FLANDERS..."
Christ! Even the Son
of God can get it wrong!
Time his Second Coming
to end up in WW1.
To us he looked like one of the 'Un!
To the 'Un he was one of us.
Both sides let him
have it.
Him who had come
to die for us
and by God
He did.
Hung on the barbed wire
for days on end
we all thinking will it
never end.
Crying for His Father
getting on our ****** nerves.
Some say they saw him
at the Somme
some say at Crucifix Corner
"...forgive them for they know not..."
it went on and on
'...what they've done."
But I had by gum!
I pitied the poor ******.
Crawled out under
****** fire.
Put my last ciggie
between his lips
made of nothing but
tea leaves....liquorice...treacle.
"Thanks mate.!" he gasped
with his last breath
turning into young Tommy
Smith at His Death.
A right good lad I knew
from Hudersfield.
Shell shocked
they said I was.
I wasn't.
All men are the Son
of God as it happens.
Even a dead 'Un is one.
The Son of God is forever
getting it wrong.
Christ! Will He ever
learn.
Timing His next Coming
to land up in WW11.
Other Wars
waiting in the wings
for Him
to come again.
Wish He would just
give up on us.
He's of no ****** use
whatsoever.
Death is a better
friend.
Survival as I know
is Hell.
"...FRESHER FIELDS THAN FLANDERS..." is the last line of a Preface that Wilfred Owen intended for his book.
Was first going to write a sci-fi thing with the Saviour coming down at just the wrong time. But as I wrote I remembered an old man I used to look after who would tell me about his WW11 experiences and of his grand dad's tales from WW1 so that it ended up as a mixture of the real and the unreal in the surreal situation of war and all it entails.
Christ! Even the Son
of God can get it wrong!
Time his Second Coming
to end up in WW1.
To us he looked like one of the 'Un!
To the 'Un he was one of us.
Both sides let him
have it.
Him who had come
to die for us
and by God
He did.
Hung on the barbed wire
for days on end
we all thinking will it
never end.
Crying for His Father
getting on our ****** nerves.
Some say they saw him
at the Somme
some say at Crucifix Corner
"...forgive them for they know not..."
it went on and on
'...what they've done."
But I had by gum!
I pitied the poor ******.
Crawled out under
****** fire.
Put my last ciggie
between his lips
made of nothing but
tea leaves....liquorice...treacle.
"Thanks mate.!" he gasped
with his last breath
turning into young Tommy
Smith at His Death.
A right good lad I knew
from Hudersfield.
Shell shocked
they said I was.
I wasn't.
All men are the Son
of God as it happens.
Even a dead 'Un is one.
The Son of God is forever
getting it wrong.
Christ! Will He ever
learn.
Timing His next Coming
to land up in WW11.
Other Wars
waiting in the wings
for Him
to come again.
Wish He would just
give up on us.
He's of no ****** use
whatsoever.
Death is a better
friend.
Survival as I know
is Hell.
"...FRESHER FIELDS THAN FLANDERS..." is the last line of a Preface that Wilfred Owen intended for his book.
Was first going to write a sci-fi thing with the Saviour coming down at just the wrong time. But as I wrote I remembered an old man I used to look after who would tell me about his WW11 experiences and of his grand dad's tales from WW1 so that it ended up as a mixture of the real and the unreal in the surreal situation of war and all it entails.
***
"...FRESHER FIELDS THAN FLANDERS..." is the last line of a Preface that Wilfred Owen intended for his book.
Was first going to write a sci-fi thing with the Saviour coming down at just the wrong time. But as I wrote I remembered an old man I used to look after who would tell me about his WW11 experiences and of his grand dad's tales from WW1 so that it ended up as a mixture of the real and the unreal in the surreal situation of war and all it entails.
"...FRESHER FIELDS THAN FLANDERS..." is the last line of a Preface that Wilfred Owen intended for his book.
Was first going to write a sci-fi thing with the Saviour coming down at just the wrong time. But as I wrote I remembered an old man I used to look after who would tell me about his WW11 experiences and of his grand dad's tales from WW1 so that it ended up as a mixture of the real and the unreal in the surreal situation of war and all it entails.
