Talk of People Gone

Posted on by Opher

Talk of People Gone

Let us talk of people gone.

Of Lanky, whose gentle ways belied the harsh stab of the needle.

Of Geof who left to meet the train.

Of Tony who shouted loudly that he was still here but isn’t.

Of Danny who took his last taxi ride.

Of Hat for whom it was always straight on.

Of Tony who strode up mountains.

Of Megan who loved Harper too.

Of Paul who talked in cockney rhyme.

Of Graham who held great parties.

Of all companions on a journey to nowhere.

Who tested time

And tasted life.

Who lived and loved

And found eternity.

Who sought rhyme and alliterations in random words

And found the truth.

Let us talk of friends.

Opher 14.12.2025

The older you get the more friends drop out of life into forever and are lost.

They live on in our cherished memories as part of us.

They helped make us who we are.

We are all on this short journey between there and here and over.

Always over.

The in between is so short.

But let us talk of those who are gone and remember with love and fondness.

Wilfred Owen – Dulce et Decorum Est – Lest we forget!

Posted on by Opher

It is remembrance day – the time we stop to remember all those who died or were injured and traumatised by war.

War is terrible.

There has to be better ways.

When I ran my school I used to hold a remembrance service for the whole school and I would read this poem to them. It has huge impact because it describes the reality. It is not sugar-coated.

War is horror. There is nothing gallant about it. It is death and agony.

The poem ends with the line – The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Translated: The old lie – it is good and proper to die for your country.

Dulce et Decorum Est 

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.—
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Remembrance Day – Berliners by Roy Harper

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Lest we forget the obscenity of war and the young men and women consumed by the war machine.

There has to be better ways.

Remembrance Day (Veterans Day) – An ambivalence.

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I was dealing my emails this morning and had the radio on. It was the Remembrance Service.

I always find myself ambivalent. I do not find this a simple thing. Emotionally I am in a strange place. Perhaps it is my view towards the Vietnam War and the later Iraq and Afghan wars. Then we have Syria, Iran and Libya. War rarely sorts out anything.

Should I wear a red poppy, a white poppy or no poppy?

I do appreciate the fact that we are safe, that we have a democracy (imperfect but better than not having one), that we are ruled secularly, that we have freedom of speech and equality. I enjoy living in a pluralistic society without the misogyny, racism and intolerance of many cultures.

I do appreciate the huge sacrifice and bravery of our troops. My father and grandfather both fought in the world wars.

I would like to recognise the efforts and sacrifices of our soldiers.

However, I do not have any faith in the decisions made by governments. I believe they lie and misrepresent, that they have political agendas and economic reasons for their decisions. How many wars are created for political or economic reasons and have nothing to do with our security? What distorted propaganda was put out by the CIA and British Intelligence? What destabilising has gone on?

I only have to look at Chile, Argentina, Vietnam, Cambodia and Africa to see the result of political intrigue.

How important was oil? How are we playing one group against another to our own advantage?

Which wars would I support? Which do I think were legal? How much are our views being manipulated?

I do not find these easy questions.

I would like to wear a poppy to support the soldiers who have suffered tremendous life-changing injuries (mental and physical) or death and their families.

I would consider, as a pacifist, wearing a white poppy to show that support while opposing war.

But I do not like the whole pageant of Remembrance Day. I do not like the way the Establishment, who I consider to be behind many of the unjustified wars, take the leading part. The politicians and aristocracy, who made the decisions, now stand there while those who make the sacrifices march past.

I detest the military aspects. I find it very martial and all about military power and to have a triumphal air. The military music is not about remembrance to me. The uniforms, flags and marching speaks of arrogance, strength and war – not sadness.

The whole business reeks of hypocrisy to me!

Red poppies – no remembrance of heroes!

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I am a pacifist. I do not believe that war is the answer to anything.

War merely creates death, fury and revenge.

It destroys, kills innocents and terrorises.

War is a political tool deployed to gain power.

I believe violence creates more violence.

No matter how good it may make you feel to hit out and hurt someone there is always a better way. It may take longer but the end result is always better.

I do not like the ‘Red Poppy’ – it has become an institution. Insincere politicians pay lip service, jingoistic politics rules and nationalism and patriotism are stirred in a torrid mix.

The red poppy was adopted as a reminder of the agonies of war, the brutality, dehumanising nature and industrial slaughter; to remind ourselves of its futility, stupidity and waste so that we might never make the same horrendous mistakes again. It appears to have become almost a glorification of heroes.

There is nothing glorious or heroic about war.

War is an obscenity.

When a bullet hits a person it wounds both the firer and the recipient. It makes monsters out of humans.

Our soldiers often do horrible things in terrible situations. They are often brave and courageous but mostly they are ordinary people following orders for dubious reasons.

Soldiers are the tools of politicians. These are the same politicians who sanctimoniously parade at the cenotaph and pay lip service to the truth of conflict.

Let us remember the blown off limbs, damaged brains, corrupted lungs, shattered minds, corrupted morals and make sure it never happens again!

Perhaps the white poppy is more fitting!