Goodbye in Wootton Bassett

After reading this Daily Telegraph article "Wootton Bassett: A very British way of mourning", I knocked this up. Yeah OK, so it's not going to win any prize, but here goes....

Goodbye in Wootton Bassett

Wide white top and broad side up,
Draped oe'r polished grains of wood,
Peaceful now in a carriage,
On your way to your final home,

The bells of St Bartholomew's toll out a sombre mood,
An eerie silence fills the air for a friend now absent,
Antonymous to the whistling of bullets in your final moment,

The command "Up" is heard,
Friends, family and colleagues salute their hero,
Sunlight rippling across their gleaming medals,
Sixty seconds later, and "Down",

The unknown people of this Wiltshire town,
Out in their thousands, shedding their tears,
To say goodbye to an admired figure,
Now gone forever, but never forgotten.

Explanation

This poem is about the down of Wootton Basset which for many years was the nearest down to the RAF base where British causalities of war who had not survived were repatriated. This poem is about the procession through the town, where hundreds, sometimes thousands of members of the public came out to pay their last respects to the fallen.

Wide white top and broad side up

From Wikpedia "To fly the flag (the Union Jack) correctly, the white of St Andrew is above the red of St Patrick in the upper hoist canton (the quarter at the top nearest to the flag-pole). This is expressed by the phrases wide white top and broad side up."

Draped oe'r polished grains of wood,
Peaceful now in a carriage

Wrapped around a coffin. Often the last act a Mum can do to send her child off clean and ready.

On your way to your final home,

Being laid to rest in a graveyard

The bells of St Bartholomew's toll out a sombre mood,

An eerie silence fills the air for a friend now absent,

St Bartholomew's is the church in the centre of town that would rings its bells as the procession passed through. Probably the only sound to be heard.

Antonymous to the whistling of bullets in your final moment,

That the silence that has filled the air was probably the complete opposite of how their final moments were lived, among the hail of bullets surrounding them, whishing past their ears.

The command "Up" is heard,
Friends, family and colleagues salute their hero,
Sunlight rippling across their gleaming medals,
Sixty seconds later, and "Down",

From the news article that inspired the writing of this "When the cortege reaches the war memorial, the president of the British Legion says a single word – "Up" – to mark the moment when ex- and serving members of the forces should begin their salute. "Down," he says 60 seconds later, as the hearses move on."

The unknown people of this Wiltshire town,
Out in their thousands, shedding their tears,
To say goodbye to an admired figure,
Now gone forever, but never forgotten.

I think this is self explanatory?

A Poem For A Haitian Child

I have agonized over whether to hit 'Publish' on this, partly as I know it does not do justice to the complete horror people in Haiti are experiencing, and partly because I never know whether those not directly involved in the actual disaster (victim and responder) should do any more than make their donation and keep out of it.

My simple aim is just to publish some of the feelings that I've had on my personal space. Thoughts in particular for the children who can unlikely make sense of it, may even now be orphaned.

Seriously, people should not be made to suffer like this and if you have chosen to read this, I hope you will forgive my hitting publish.

A Poem For A Haitian Child

One magnitude for each year of your life,
Your look of the world rearranged in a moment,

The night sky is filled with stars,
But to you, like your heart looks empty,
As tears speed down your face like racing cars,
Your grief is all too a plenty,

You didn't ask for this,
Nor did you deserve this,
Your face now filled with sorrow,
Showing a heart feeling hollow,

Beyond the fences you see the military might,
Stocking supplies, one mile high,
Yet why is the only water you see in sight,
The mist of the tears filling your eyes?,

Right now explanations are bare,
What are we supposed to tell you child?,
If only you knew how much we care,

I hope one day you can laugh and smile,
If you can, then our effort will be all worthwhile.
Sleep tight dear child.
Explanation

One magnitude for each year of your life,

Your look of the world rearranged in a moment,

A lot of the people affected by the earthquake were young children. This is just matching that the 7 magnitude could just equal 7 years of life that they had when their lives were affected forever.

The night sky is filled with stars, 

But to you, like your heart looks empty,

With nothing to show to their names, no home, no roof over their head, just the empty expanse of the universe, all they had to see were the stars up in the sky. As the electricity will have been cut off, the night sky would have appear fill, but their lives now empty.

As tears speed down your face like racing cars, 

Your grief is all too a plenty,

You didn't ask for this, 

Nor did you deserve this,

Your face now filled with sorrow, 

Showing a heart feeling hollow,

The sadness and sorrow on their faces. Unable to process everything, they respond with the basic human emotion of sadness leading to crying.

Beyond the fences you see the military might,

Stocking supplies, one mile high,

After the earthquake, there was a massive international response to send aid to Haiti.

Yet why is the only water you see in sight,

The mist of the tears filling your eyes?,

But so much of this aid was left at the airport, not going anywhere. Desperate for water (liquid), all they would have been aware of was their own tears running down their faces, as their dry mouths gasped for the very bottles of water they could see over the fence.

Right now explanations are bare,

What are we supposed to tell you child?,

If only you knew how much we care,

How the hell you can explain this to an child....I don't know. Adults were having a hard enough time. OK, so the supplies were not getting through, but I felt that the human sentiment around the world was one of caring. International disputes did not matter as much, we just saw our fellow humans in need and wanted to help them.

I hope one day you can laugh and smile,

If you can, then our effort will be all worthwhile.

Sleep tight dear child.

I wanted to offer up my own note of thought to these children affected. I hope your future, one day will be OK, and everything will just work out so that you reach a point in time where you can say that "I'm happy"

Thoughts At Level Three Five Zero

Thoughts At Level Three Five Zero

Engines to full throttle,
Time to depart,
Where do we go today,
Now's just the start,

O'er mountains, o'er forests,
O'er valleys and lakes,
Variety finds us,
Through routes that we take,

Though t'destination is always the same,
Who knows what's waiting in the baggage claim,
For flying each day is all that we do,
What do you see, that's up to you.

Explanation

Each day without realising it, we think so many thoughts - sadly many of which we are unaware of. If for love, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then a large number of thoughts, regrettably I feel seem invisible to their viewer.

So, here is just the day in the life of our thoughts. We get up, we think, eventually the day stops and we end up in our beds, and ultimately six feet under (hence the unknown of baggage claim), though lets not go getting ourselves worked up about that eh - we have thoughts to have amigos!

In the meantime I wonder what you see when you look out of the plane window.

Engines to full throttle

Our bodies wake up from sleep. Our muscles begin to move, our mind becomes more active, our heart rate increases. The mind and the body prepare for a new day.

Time to depart,

Time to get out of bed basically.

Where do we go today,
Now's just the start,

That you never really know how the day will pan out. You have an idea, but you don't know.

O'er mountains, o'er forests,
O'er valleys and lakes,

Variety finds us,
Through routes that we take,

All the different things we'll see that day. Different people on the street, funny Facebook status updates, people we'll talk to, sensations we'll have in our minds and bodies. There's so much to notice if we actually takes some moments to notice all that is happening.

Though t'destination is always the same,

We're all going to die basically (nice and cheery isn't it)

Who knows what's waiting in the baggage claim,

No-one actually knows what happens when you move on.

For flying each day is all that we do,

Each day we have all these moments. Perhaps a lot of the time it's same ol', same ol', but watch more, notice more, "be" more.

What do you see, that's up to you.

Take this opportunity to start noticing :)

Last Call For Flight 94043

Last Call For Flight 94043

The hustle and the bustle,
Different people everywhere,
Each with their own story,
Their love is their glory,

Husband, Wife, Son, Daughter,
Their presence shall be missed,

An electric atmosphere fills the air,
Yet for now, I am calm,

But now the screen changes,
I see what I have been dreading,
Flight 94043 - proceed to gate,

So, now is the time for my body to depart,
And leave with home a piece of my heart,

I won't turn around now,
I can't risk seeing your face,
And you shouldn't see mine,

For this is now for me to do,
Knowing I'll always love you,

Goodbye for now best friend,
I shall see you soon.

Explanation....

2009 was for me a very significant year. I moved from the UK to California - a distance door to door (as the crow flies and measured on Google Earth) of 5238 miles (I'm now back in England).

I am very close to my family and love them unconditionally - without boring you with the details, we have been through a lot and together faced many challenges. Naturally, these distances present challenges for interaction and goodbyes (which I really don't do...not well anyway!). And those goodbyes are experienced in a much more different and profound way than 'See ya, back in an hour'.

The hustle and the bustle,
Different people everywhere,
Each with their own story,

This is basically in reference to an airport departure lounge. All those people, all going somewhere, each with their own stories to tell.

Their love is their glory,

This is actually in reference to a song by Mark Knopfler called "If this is goodbye", which he wrote in memory of the 9/11 attacks and about the phone calls from the people from the planes. All of them were messages of love, and that although they were essentially murdered, the one glory that they had over the evil was the love they had.

Husband, Wife, Son, Daughter,
Their presence shall be missed,

Again, this is to add to each person's story. Everyone is important to someone, and whilst they're gone, for however long, they will be missed.

An electric atmosphere fills the air,
Yet for now, I am calm,

In airports, there really is an atmosphere. In this case, I felt calm, but I knew that I was about to become upset as I said goodbye to my Mum.

But now the screen changes,
I see what I have been dreading,

The information screens spread all over the airport, which are always the opening chapter in traveling. They comments the movement away/towards your loved ones. The dreading isn't because I don't want to go. I chose this, but it's dreading the goodbye.

Flight 94043 - proceed to gate,

There is no flight 94043 to my knowledge, but in fact this is is the zip code in America of where I would be staying. Nice place by the way if you ever get chance to visit.

So, now is the time for my body to depart,
And leave with home a piece of my heart,

Kinda self explanatory right?

I won't turn around now,
I can't risk seeing your face,
And you shouldn't see mine,

Knowing that this is something grown up that you just have to do. Head up right, eyes forward. Look forward both figuratively and literally. Everyone knows it's upset enough, the departing and "dropper off" both know the image that is on each other's face, so why confirm it and make it harder than it already is.

For this is now for me to do,
Knowing I'll always love you,

I have to take this opportunity, and I hope that you know that whatever happens, I always love you for letting me do this.

Goodbye for now best friend,
I shall see you soon.

This is a message for my Mum (my whole family really), but my Mum who bought me into this world, and is now letting me go off and explore it.

Friendship

I pride myself on trying to be considerate to others, a notion given to me by my wonderful parents. My mantra is never to say that you are a good person, as believing you already are does in my view fuel arrogance. Instead, I always say that I always try to be a good person - because yes, sometimes I will get it wrong and cock it up like everyone does - but I will at least be making the effort to do right.

Recently, a very close friend of mine has been going through some tough times. This is a poem I knocked up for her. I don't expect it to win any prizes, but hey it's my bloooog!

Ma Petite Grenouille

As I gaze outside, I feel so alone,
Sadness and sorrow fill my heart,
The winter has come, the trees look dead,
The emotions feel too strong inside my head.

Looking around me, I see little light,
But part of the sky is now filled with might,
I see my friend, I see my allie,
I know I am loved, more than money can buy,

Now, my friend is with me, I will someday be OK,
When and how, well I cannot yet say,
But what I can know, What I should know,
Is true loneliness need never be felt, wherever I go,

My friend is here, I will be OK.