Wher Birds will never Fly

(Note:  This is not My poem - Robert posted it somewhere else and I just added it here --- Krishna)

 

 

“Where Birds Will Never Fly“. A painting by Robert Anderson using
acrylic paints on 50x40 cm art paper. © Robert Anderson 2009

This is a piece that centres around the first world war, “The Great War”
1914-1918.

Where Birds Will Never Fly

Twisted barb on wooden posts
The mist that creeps like long lost ghosts
Silence dims an earthly glow
Minds in sync on overflow
Entrenched in mud and heavy snow
Accepting fate when whistles blow
Where birds will never fly

Breath now wheezes a harrowing ring
As shells whistle out, their song to sing
Rat tat, tat, then ding, ding, ding
The bullets ricochet then ping
Knuckles white to weapons cling
Smoke filed eyes ignore the sting
Where birds will never fly

Silhouettes from smoke in mud
This baron landscape red with blood
As friend and foe dance in tune
To yells and cries in fated doom
Then fall and gargle out their croon
Their eyes will darken out now soon
Where birds will never fly

Shrapnel thunderclaps the skies
As mountains move before men’s eyes
Bodies fly like angels must
Where twisted metal soon will rust
Fragmented death, will turn to dust
To feed mans warlike, nurtured lust
Where birds will never fly

Mothers work without a pause
They shed their dress for lint and gauze
It’s wasted in this long lost cause
Between conceptions hidden flaws
In birth lines lonely hidden clause
Their wilted youth now never was
Where birds will never fly

Her hardy breed in sacrifice
Is wasted through this mothers eyes
So hard for her to analyse
In order to surmise, she cries
For peaceful times to come, she lies
To hold her son once more, she sighs
Where birds will never fly

© Robert Anderson 2009

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