Mar 6
LES PAS PERDUS
"What did I do
in the war?"
I kept on trying not to be dead
all my friends were no good
at staying alive
( I keep them alive in my head )
the voices of the dead
shouting why are you
still alive & not I
good ole' Fred
lost his head
easy as a nursery rhyme
Tom holding
his guts in his hands
trying to stuff them back in
all we found of John
were his boots
with his feet still in them
"What did I do
in the war?"
I kept on trying not to be dead
I kept on trying
I kept on trying
to get back to you
*
LES PAS PERDUS (stepping stones or the lost steps )halfway buried stones forming a walkway. The stepping stones between one generation and the next....the war to end all wars merely produced the next war. He and his father were making such a path together as the old man told of his time and the horror that is contained in a survivor's head. Also the very act of surviving creates an agonising guilt that gnaws at the soul. He would often cry and say better men than he died...why not me...why not me.
And he would see his dead friends everywhere.
Father in the Ist World War who only related his own tale when his son in WW11 met the same horrible experiences.
“Perhaps my life is nothing but an image of this kind; perhaps I am doomed to retrace my steps under the illusion that I am exploring, doomed to try and learn what I simply should recognize, learning a mere fraction of what I have forgotten.”
― André Breton
"What did I do
in the war?"
I kept on trying not to be dead
all my friends were no good
at staying alive
( I keep them alive in my head )
the voices of the dead
shouting why are you
still alive & not I
good ole' Fred
lost his head
easy as a nursery rhyme
Tom holding
his guts in his hands
trying to stuff them back in
all we found of John
were his boots
with his feet still in them
"What did I do
in the war?"
I kept on trying not to be dead
I kept on trying
I kept on trying
to get back to you
*
LES PAS PERDUS (stepping stones or the lost steps )halfway buried stones forming a walkway. The stepping stones between one generation and the next....the war to end all wars merely produced the next war. He and his father were making such a path together as the old man told of his time and the horror that is contained in a survivor's head. Also the very act of surviving creates an agonising guilt that gnaws at the soul. He would often cry and say better men than he died...why not me...why not me.
And he would see his dead friends everywhere.
Father in the Ist World War who only related his own tale when his son in WW11 met the same horrible experiences.
“Perhaps my life is nothing but an image of this kind; perhaps I am doomed to retrace my steps under the illusion that I am exploring, doomed to try and learn what I simply should recognize, learning a mere fraction of what I have forgotten.”
― André Breton
