#belgium
I'm scared
they say there are drones
above our head
they say they came
from the darkest place of death
I know how I should feel
when all of this is real
scared
what if
it really is this time
what if
in a month or two
no one survives
what if war breaks out
where death stands proud
where guns shout loud
I'm scared
war
where everyone search for a rope
when peace turns into hope
what if I dont get a grave
a stranger in a maze
what if I
won't be brave
I'm
s
c
a
r
e
d
but
people help the people
right?
just as the song
hold on
look me in the eyes
I'm scared
everything
will
be
okay
I hope
Nov 3, 2025
Nov 3, 2025 at 11:51 AM UTC
Don't you tell me I can't let go
When all that's keeping me together
Is the one thing you'll never truly know
Having set the bar so low
How did you expect me to rise up
If it's you holding me from below
When it's night, when track of time is lost
And the Brussels skyline looks at me from above
I'm on my own
Sep 8, 2025
Sep 8, 2025 at 3:15 PM UTC
The night conspiratorial,
A certain unfriendly bite to it,
heaviness like things undone,
Autumn is television cackle mahogany scented,
one creature making sense
Of its biology,
Legs and arms and hearts and minds entangled,
Until lethargic resignation
Slipping our memories in years to come,
Like we were absent from our bodies,
Fleetingly appalled at my abandonment,
To what extent do the walls know?
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 9:28 AM UTC
Last night communing with the,
much more than anything,
but still not quite,
echoing in worlds beyond this one,
if it pierces,
empties out carefully
What is it that is never quite,
intact or playfully,
ask the sages to reconsider,
paths to the sun,
Wonderful it will be to reach,
apexed or transcedent,
finger tips dusty or removed,
which is the endpoint subtracted,
faces that are familiar,
but are no more,
bottle green,
they are everything but sad,
dowsed in caffeine again,
heart is drowning in,
stolen courage,
the day passes away,
lost and fragmented.
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 12:30 PM UTC
On the retreat through
Belgium you tended to
a young soldier wounded
by machine gun fire across
his abdomen. He lay there
on a stretcher unconscious.
He needed a doctor but none
was there. You unwound the
bloodied bandages. His arm
was hanging loose and a bone
was poking through. He was
still unconscious. A fellow
soldier suggested they move
on as the Germans were not
far away. You rebandaged him.
He was pale. You got two
stretcher bearers to take him
to the nearest ambulance.
They walked off with him
across the muddy ground
to a battered ambulance
over the way. Move on the
sergeant called Jerry's on
his way. You moved into
the ambulance and off it
went. The soldier lay there
unaware of the place or time
or danger. You watched him
there without worries or care.
Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 2:43 PM UTC
an ostentatious wipe
this referendum is treed
while rather bolting a humanity
so Barcelona is superfluous and has encased
but once in Granda they'll enjoin a last bit circle
and to embroil grout in their tires
as a run within this emanation
on the plain to graze again
save Girona still crankiest in bluff
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 4:06 PM UTC
We camped down
the first night
in some old
caravan
sleeping bags
everywhere
outside Bruges
next morning
we wake up
all cramped up
and annoyed
where are our
tents meant to
be set up?
Dalya asks
the guide says
got held up
just rang them
be here soon
he tells her
have breakfast
in the bar
and wait there
so we do
8 of us
4 young males
and females
have coffee
and pancakes
and a smoke
what a joke
Dalya says
we walk out
together
walk about
the camp site
you're Benny?
She asks me
yes that's right
what a crowd
for camping
a mother
and daughter
some teacher
from Southend
some Yorkshire
girl loud mouth
and Aussie
and the guide
Dalya says
do we share
two a tent?
I ask her
same sexes
she replies
so I'm with
Yorkshire lass
I suppose
Aussie's yours
she tells me
the teacher's
with the guide
at the next
base camp place
I like her
her spirit
her tight curls
and dark hair
and small bust
we walk back
to the old
caravan
for our bags
and our stuff
keep with me
Dalya says
and we'll see
how it goes
at the next
camping site
and maybe
she whispers
we can share
a whole night.
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 2:28 AM UTC
As whisker-twister pauses, tho’ journey lingers on,
Sniveling and sneaking as he darts in shadows long,
And the Gallic peace; tranquility.
No food, nor sleep, no drink and no refuge, found anywhere in France,
Nowhere to run save forests, upon which he’s forced to take a chance,
And the Gallic peace; tranquility.
Scampering in shadows, with the hunter’s distance being closed,
Rodent Ambiorix, -little mouse, is paused and panting in repose,
And the Gallic peace; tranquility.
Frightened little mouse, run, yes run away,
Frightened little mouse you’ve come to rue that day,
For frightened little mouse, -Caesar’s on his way!
And the Gallic peace; tranquility. *
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 10:58 PM UTC
**citizens are dying
mommas are crying
countries are sighing
goverments are trying
to do all they can
but they don't realize that they have to unite man to man,
so maybe all of these attacks will stop, including in pakistan,
blood is drying,
bombs are flying,
watching this on the news is horrifying,
deaths are multiplying,
this is terrifying,
my heart goes out to the lives that were lost, to the families that died, to the mothers on their knees crying, to the citizens on hospital beds slowly dying.
you did not deserve this.**
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 10:55 PM UTC
So let’s consider what is meant
by rolling heads and bodies splattered…
time for Truth to represent
(as if such inconvenience mattered…)
Such events disturb our sleep
and force us to compose, on waking,
lullabies for drowsy sheep
as predators are overtaking.
Flags of doom and holy slaughter,
sons of Ishmael filled with rage
are coming for your wife and daughter
and yourself. You turn the page.
Rising now to storm your tower
(7th century back to bite you),
Allah brings satanic power
to convert you or to smite you.
****** dhimmis would have us think
such rage is due to unemployment;
pure confusion on the brink
of funding further troop deployment.
Meanwhile, mullahs sip their tea
while tenured academics prattle
watching MSNBC
as soldiers die in battle.
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 7:30 PM UTC
Belgium, we hear you.
Our tears fall at your loss.
One day, things will be okay, and the world will turn right-side up.
It won't be tomorrow, or in my lifetime, but one day, it will.
Until then, we hear you, and stand with you against the evil in this world.
Evil exists.
It is very real.
There are monsters in the shadows, gouls under our beds, and ghosts drifting outside our windows.
We are all but children playing in the dark.
Evil, and pain, and wrongdoings, and losses, exist all around us.
And one day, when we decide, they will go away.
Until then, we hear you.
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 6:59 PM UTC
They lay on Normandy.
Two hundred miles away, the empty shells of humans
Who lie below the streets
Felt the poison that lurked above.
They shuffled out of the underground,
Boarding trains and ships like corpses
And dropping bombs from miles above.
A little French boy is spared.
His brother whispers “Bon courage,”
As the rest of the family are taken out back
And shot like mad dogs.
Twenty years later, he stands on the beach
With his young wife
Watching their sons roll and play in the sand.
His tongue tastes a warm salt
That couldn't come from the ocean.
All he can taste from the ocean is blood.
I can see my grandfather clearly
With tears falling down his face
As his mother shuts the piano.
“There will be no music,” she says quietly.
She is an immigrant
And I wonder if she questions the choice
That brought her son to a country where he might lay down his life
For strangers, four thousand miles away.
I can feel him now
Hiding in the apple trees,
High above the others.
He is in Sainte-Mère-Église, and there are enemies below.
And now I take them in my arms
Cradling them like children
“Je vous embrasse, les deux,”
And I lie down on the edge of the ocean at Normandy.
I exhale and hold them close.
The sun is shining, and I do not cry;
It is nothing but salt and water to me.
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 9:27 PM UTC
One of the famous "Barry Hodges Memories" sequence
People think that Waterloo is a fascinating battlefield,
Relatively near to Brussels (where the sprouts come from
and, which are, as you know, a great cause of **** fart-gas).
But believe me there is more to it than that:
As I was wandering around checking out the graves
And generally having quite a nice time when...
A load of drug-crazed German bikers appeared
Sky-high on excess intake of moules avec pommes frites
And several gallons of extra-strong Belgian beer.
And they leaped on us and bashed the living ****
Out of my poor 99 year old mother-in-law, Deidre,
And left her lying there spasticated on the battlefield.
And for what, a few lousy packets of French cigarettes;
And I needed a metal scoop to rescue her remains to take home;
Dear God, I shall skip any more 19th century champs de guerre.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 7:47 AM UTC
I am not experienced.
I have not seen all of the world-
Other than the romance of Paris,
The ancient cobblestone of Bruges,
The rejuvenating air in Lausanne-
And I have only seen a handful of vast plains
In America-
Those which only made me want
More.
It is not that I am dissatisfied with this
Setting-
It is just so hard to be in this place,
The one I know so well,
When there is a whole world
To explore-
To implore-
To love and admire
With wide eyes,
And a racing mind.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 10:10 PM UTC
When i think back to the day I met you, my heart explodes.
I am both the happiest person in the world, because I hugged you, and the saddest because it's been so long.
In class, I can't focus because the memory of your smile keeps coming back to me.
In my head, it never gets quiet anymore because my mind keeps replaying the sound of your chuckle, and those words I've been longing to hear.
No hug will ever feel
as warm
and safe
and happy anymore,
because no one's arms fit me like yours.
You are constantly on repeat in my mind;
your laugh, your smile, your words, your arms, your smell...
I miss you so much, my heart cannot take it anymore.
And I cannot help but wonder,
how you can be the worst thing that's ever happened to my heart when you're the best that's ever happened to me.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 6:04 PM UTC
I feel like I am living in a shell.
The words "you don't belong here"
are constantly being echoed back
by my limits.
Things that seem to go natural
with everyone around me
are a lot harder in this shell.
With every inhale of life I take
comes an exhale of desperation to live
and not knowing how to.
It deceived me into thinking
it kept me safe but all this time
it has been what was holding me back.
I see that now
but the words keep echoing in my head
youdontbelonghereyoudontbelonghereyoudontbelonghere
Breaking out of my shell was never an option
I can not survive without it.
But I do want to leave it
and everyone
and everything
I do want to leave.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 12:30 PM UTC