THE WAR

The War brought out their misfortunes,
Laid all their problems bare,
Showed all their trappings Air
Blown off in the first light breeze
(Unfortunately this was a thunderstorm)
And that their every worldly care
Was but a Bottom's Fart
Exploding in their faces.

Naturally, the best were shot, sent to the Front
Where All Good Men Go :
And those left behind
(Too young, too scared, too vicious)
Had to make the best of what was left.

This wasn't difficult -
There wasn't a lot.

THE FIRST BOMB
DESTROYED MAJOR CITIES

And what little food was left,
Radioactive,
Had to be eaten with care -
Because it was the last thing that would ever be eaten.

The Old Women wailed, but they had been the ones
That started it all :
A million seething hates
Builds up One Big Picture Of Hate,
And they had hated - boy, how they had hated!
(Never believe that women are weaker than men.)

Not that the men had been perfect -
They'd stirred the pot too
(But never at home, that had been women's work).

Oh yes, to blame it all on the men is unfair,
Though the ones for Peace had soon succumbed to their base emotions ...

It was the Falkland's all over again,
Writ large,
Or Diana the Image, in a nation with nowhere to go -
Mob rule -
Quite perfect
For starting a war ...

Still , what's a war when it's on somebody else's land ?

Only this War
Had Been Over Here.

The elections had helped -
So near, so little time,
Something
Had Had To Be Done !

When the moment for peace came
The Prime Minister Walked Away
And History (there wasn't much left)
Would then have been revised, the moment air-brushed out
So that all who could read the text-books would have seen
How It Wasn't Our Fault.

There now - it's done :
No great celebrations, no thanking God for our victory
(For God is righteous and favours whites, Anglo-Saxons and the wealthy in that order,
Praise Him, for he is Mighty and will help Us,
But not our Enemies
Who must suffer and perish in Eternal Fire).

Well, of course the fires are out now,
They only last a week or two and then the firestorms
Are done.

And the politicians - well, what can one say ?
They were never of much use - and now
They're of none.

Still, Life Goes On.
(My charred limb fell off yesterday,
But the rest of me's O.K.)

Bit late for changing things, now really,
But I pray - well, naturally, I pray:
There's not a lot else to do.

Once the screams had died with their owners
There was only silence,
Apart from the black rain and the odd ferocious wind.

I pray, yes, I pray,
I pray for Hope, although really that's all Gone,
And for a Peaceful Death
(Though Death doesn't bother me anymore, I'm too numb)
And for my children, who all died -
Though one of them still shrieks in my head.

Hell, I've got it lucky, really -
At least I'm almost sane.

That was one thing I was never shown how to do:
I was never told how to pray.
Now, of course, I'm learning fast,
But then there were too many idiots who'd staked a prior claim,
Too many groups with Copyright Name of their own Wise One -
And I avoided that strange game,
I only wanted a God who spoke to me (preferably peaceably),
Someone or Something to set me free -
And there wasn't one.

So I've invented One.

He's called God -
And we try and listen to each other :
And I thank God,
And God then thanks me.

There now -
I'm all done.


18/11/99