an ekphrasis: George Wesley Bellows, The Barricade, 1918
“Soft delivery… steel shadow…” your poems resound.
nice, thanks, Dian
That’s really odd. I am in Belgium and dreamt of war last night. It woke me out of the dream. Not this horror but another. Great poem 💚
Interesting bit of synchronicity. War is nothing but horror. Glad you like the poem, Mike..
War is world wide. We fight next to one another. In our minds we cannot es cape the haunting atrocities that stare at us even as we sleep.
Yes, true.
And behind those guns the Royal puppet masters and profiteers celebrate treasure and power over life and death.
Good point, Patris. Dylan's Masters of War.
A relentless cadence for the shock of sacrifice.
Thank you for your take, Annie.
On an on it goes. The profits rise before our eyes. Our desensitised eyes.
Wonderful poem.
Thanks for sharing.
And thank you reading, Kevin.
“Soft delivery… steel shadow…” your poems resound.
nice, thanks, Dian
That’s really odd. I am in Belgium and dreamt of war last night. It woke me out of the dream. Not this horror but another. Great poem 💚
Interesting bit of synchronicity. War is nothing but horror. Glad you like the poem, Mike..
War is world wide. We fight next to one another. In our minds we cannot es cape the haunting atrocities that stare at us even as we sleep.
Yes, true.
And behind those guns the Royal puppet masters and profiteers celebrate treasure and power over life and death.
Good point, Patris. Dylan's Masters of War.
A relentless cadence for the shock of sacrifice.
Thank you for your take, Annie.
On an on it goes. The profits rise before our eyes. Our desensitised eyes.
Wonderful poem.
Thanks for sharing.
And thank you reading, Kevin.