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MH-17: A Poem for the Taken

The United

Scattered nations
Scattered remnants
Shredded metal
White flags and body bags
The cold indoctrinated hover with hardware
Absurdly camouflaged
As though we cannot see what they are.

All a charade for the theatre rats
The stories are already terminated
Prior to conclusions
And jubilant peaks
And natural downs
Hearts of longing
Dreams out of reach
But within sight
Others still yet to dream.

Varying tongues and colours
Genes and ideas
Universally wrapped
In location
With a common goal
A succinct pilgrimage
Outcomes innocently undetermined
Now fastened as one
Ironically stitched by the severance
A sealed collective
Bound in our memory’s
Cottoned in compassion
Pooled in tears
And the endless abyss of our affections.

It’s a Journey without end
In perpetuity
The United.

There will never be Justice. Only hope for some peace for the families.

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  1. That was very powerful and moving Anthony. Such a sad state of affairs in this world.

  2. I can understand and empathise with those who lost loved ones or someone on the plane, but because I knew none of those who died - I had not even heard of the Aussie author who died - it's a bit like a car crash to me. An accident, that occured because of a war. These things happen in war. I doubt whether those who shot down the plane will be prosecuted.There is nothing we can do for those who died. On the other hand the world, if willing, could do a lot to stop the carnage in Gaza.

  3. As a regular flyer, I found it particularly upsettting, as I do for every loss of life, especially innocent ones.

    As for the Gaza conflict, its easy to hate Israel with their superior firepower, and the bombing of the UN compound was truly despicable, and yet Hamas didn't want to extend the ceasefire and persist in firing rockets. Really, what's the point of any of it? The only solution there is for borders to be brought down and both sides live together as what occurred in South Africa. Its the only solution.
    And it takes two to negotiate.

  4. I don't know how you wove words together to so powerfully, meaningfully, and accurately depict the incident, and state of the world, Anthony. But you did.

  5. What can I say

    when there are no words?

    What can I write

    when the ink has run dry?

    What can I sing

    when there is no key?

    But silence is wrong.



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