in every leaf that trembles
as in every grain of sand
this fragile beauty brings balance
resonating a harmonious chord
spreading out as ripples
across the universe of our lives
may you always prosper and blossom
continuing to see beauty in every grain of sand
and flower that blooms
for this year and the next that will always follow
bringing a revived catalyst for growth
to my life, our love, and your life
© 2023 michael d emmerich
© 2023 mikesnexus.com
the morning light slowly pushes the shadows away
the remains of the night gently recede
yet we cling to the warmth that remains
entwined in our slumbers we hold firm
to another 5 minutes
hushed whispers and the rise and fall as we breath
hands holding firm to the sands of time
to slow down what will eventually be
till then we mould as one
for another 5 minutes
a new day must eventually begin
till then, we press in and on
entwined as one
delaying this moment
for just another 5 minutes … please
© 2023 michael d emmerich
© 2023 mikesnexus.com
that which disturbs, irritates
out of this intrusion our natural defence
must be to create beauty
this irritation layered upon our minds
must drag out the lustre of the nacre
and repeatedly caress
layer upon layer
from every grain of sand, let beauty emerge
pearls from pain, washed by tears
this fragile beauty brings balance
becoming a catalyst to growth
allow the weeds of yesteryear
to become the flowers of indulgence
as a new wonderous life emerges
© 2023 michael d emmerich
© 2023 mikesnexus.com
that elusive gift is no longer lost
to find what was never lost but is now found
that is indeed one of life’s mysteries
but,
to those who dare and persist
sands of time will never end
their pathway becomes self-evident
and,
passions are no longer that elusive frontier
that which is valued becomes our truth
with no limits or boundaries
may the sands never run out in this hourglass
© 2023 michael d emmerich
© 2023 mikesnexus.com
“Nonintervention does not mean that nothing happens.
It means that something else happens.”
Christopher Hitchens
On this day when we remember the fallen, lets gave pause for thought, to the boys forced to become men, to become killers. In silent contemplation, I at times shout out to my silence; why do we discard our best and brightest to senseless conflicts. The hopes and disappointments of generations of young (mostly) men/boys are always dashed at the altar of political expedience and greed. Young men fighting old men’s wars. The First World War poets have always stuck a deep chord on my soul and I reread the poems and contemplate deeply on the what, why, how and the loss. The poetry of Owen, Rosenberg, Blunden, Gurney and Sassoon are those that I turn to when I need to pause and think, why is this world so fucked up?
Consequently, I have put my pen to writing about war, and the effect it has had on me; as who served, and on our youth and the broader society. Here are some of the poems I have written with a precise of what inspired/motivated me to to put pen to paper. Not in the same league as Owen and Sassoon, but hopefully it will cause you dear reader, to pause, and reflect as to where we are going in this crazy world.
Upon reflecting on my time in the military/war as an Ops Medic, my mind flitted around the war, in which I was involved, and its unpopularity (in my opinion) and the baggage that one carries after the fact. The PTSD that soldiers carry with them for life, but that society has long forgotten, especially if the war was unpopular. Sting said: “History will teach us nothing” in some respects he is true.
The passing of Muhammad Ali gave me pause for reflection on the issues of war, forcible conscription and all that goes with it, he went to prison rather than be drafted to serve in Vietnam. I then reflected back on my time when I was forcibly conscripted in 1981 and my battle with the process of all that is war.
This arose from a dream I had, which then made me think back to a Wilfred Owen poem I read, “Strange Meeting”. Upon further reflection I cast my mind back to when I was an Ops Medic in the bush war in 1981/82 and the time I spent treating patients at the main POW camp in the now Namibia. My thought process then meandered through a montage of past present and future. It was a difficult poem to write but the words just spilled out once I began.
Penned this on the International day of Peace in Sept this year. To quote John Lennon: Give Peace a chance.
…. and a few others:
© 2018/20 michael d emmerich
© 2018/20 mikesnexus.com
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