A Day (Life) of Remembrance

“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.

The Forgotten Soldier

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.

Fuck War

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.

My Enemy is My Friend

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.

White Feathers

Penned this on the International day of Peace in Sept this year.                                                 To quote John Lennon: Give Peace a chance.

…. and a few others:

Mist of War

Peace in our Time

The 1% War

© 2018/20 michael d emmerich

© 2018/20 mikesnexus.com

Medic’s Epitaph

looking back, I gaze

at a red and broken past

around my feet lies the present

an uncertain yet clear future lies before



surrounded by pain

time spent with the dead and dying

understanding death at times

comes easier than conversing with the living



contemplation brings a deeper appreciation of life

all I want my epitaph to be

is not confusion, but

…..

“just trying to leave someone alive”
© 2019 michael d emmerich
© 2019 mikesnexus.com

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Wish on the Wind?

it’s a mystery to me how it commences

only the wind remembers

from whence it came and where it goes

yet we wish on it

with dandelions in bloom



will the wind ever remember

that wish it blows on its way

for at the end of the day

all for that we yearn

is to be remembered by name



at days end when the clouds lift

light will breakthrough

yet the wind will not look back

but ….

what of us, should we
© 2019 michael d emmerich
© 2019 mikesnexus.com