AN ANTHOLOGY OF ORIGINAL POEMS ABOUT WORLD WAR ONE
“Look up, and swear by the green of the spring that you’ll never forget” SIEGFRIED SASSOON 2
THIS ANTHOLOGY WAS CREATED BY: Alexandra Iles Bonga Mthembu Bradley Ellis Chris Conreen Clyde Dixon
Lydia White Rachel Manning Saania Ali Sharma Sennu Stuart Emslie
This anthology has been created by young people from Southend YMCA’s Motivate volunteering project as part of the ACT network. Southend YMCA works with vulnerable and disadvantaged young people aged 16 to 25 in Southend and the surrounding areas, dedicated to improving the lives, education, aspirations and prospects for their future. Motivate is Southend YMCA’s flagship volunteering project working with young people to run community-based projects in Southend, Basildon, Castle Point and Rochford District funded by The Big Lottery Fund. The ACT Network (ACT) is a project selected under the European cross-border Cooperation Programme INTERREG IV, co-funded by the European Regional Development Fund (ERDF). ACT commits to local change by making access to culture possible for all. This network also fosters innovative exchanges and multidisciplinary art and culture events.
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INTRODUCTION As part of the international commemoration to mark the start of World War One, YMCAs across the country and the ACT project joined in with creating unique projects that could engage young people in the process. Young people expressed that they would like to use creative writing, specifically poetry, to create a collection of original works that would honour and remember the lives of individuals that were involved with World War One at every level. The group’s journey started by supporting the St Laurence’s Church exhibition dedicated to the fallen soldiers of Eastwood. This was followed by a visit to the Imperial War Museum, Tower of London poppy installation and Southend Museum’s World War One exhibition. By doing this the group gained an understanding of the local and national impact of World War One. The group read other poetry of the time by poets such as Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen, and researched into the history and impact of World War One and the YMCA’s involvement. These poems were recited for the first time at Utopia Coffee Lounge, Southend, on the 1st October 2014.
CONTENTS 5 – A Soldier’s Decision by Lydia White 6 – Death is Everywhere by Bonga Mthembu 7 – No Man’s Land by Bradley Ellis 8 – The Tale of Two Countries by Stuart Emslie 9 – Trenches by Alexandra Iles 10 – Love Not War by Sharma Sennu 11, 12 – For When Will This End? by Clyde Dixon 13 – Death by Marina Wright 14 – Lonely Boy & Killer by Rachel Manning 15 – Free by Saania Ali 16 – Lasting Thought by Susan Roach 17, 18 - Over The Top by Chris Conreen 4
LYDIA WHITE Age 24 “I have often thought whilst playing war themed games about soldiers at war in the trenches and the split decisions they would have to make during World War One. My poem is told from the perspective of a soldier and how they might be thinking.”
A SOLDIER’S DECISION Bullets fly like a swarm of frightened birds in the sky They hit the ground, debris everywhere A sense of despair blankets the atmosphere The sun is setting upon us, We know what we have to do Fear is like glue, frozen to the spot Do we run, do we go or do we stay Our lives are in danger either way No man’s land in the distance Limbs and corpses line our fate Do we stay or do we go before it is too late We need to decide But food is scarce, fried lice for tea, Our minds are filled with carbon dioxide, We are needed by our country It’s time to decide Do we fight or reside Fight we die, Stay we die, Plant a flag to mark our territory Only for the enemy to come and destroy 5
BONGA MTHEMBU Age 22 “My inspiration was the thought of how the soldiers died defending their country, this led me to personify death and imagine him as a living person.”
DEATH IS EVERYWHERE Death walks, Death talks, Death is bringer, Death lingers. Death is cunning, waiting in the shadows, ready to pounce on an innocent victim. Death has no moral, he only brings sorrow, he makes it easy to make you hollow. In no man’s land is where he waits, marching into the inevitable you can be sure it’s where you will lay. Death has a twin, be careful where you go he leaves his roots for you to loot. A manifestation of evil desires his always ready to make you expire. He seeks an opportunity for your desires, the more you fight he fuels the fire. Extinguish the fire through good desires; Love one another you can be sure he will not be conjured.
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BRADLEY ELLIS Age 16 “I was inspired by the bravery and courage of the men who gave their lives for us. I wrote this in memory of the many individuals who lost their lives in service.”
NO MAN’S LAND As they clasped their guns, waiting to leap over the wall into no man’s land knowing they would probably never return. Shells landing cries of wounded men and gunfire. As the faint yellow approached; people fumbled as they choked and their throats burned. Their skin bubbled and blistered. As the soldiers lie on the floor gagging; their lives flashing before them longing to be with their families before they die. The shadow hovered over them waiting for their moment to pounce upon the dying soldier As he plucks the seed of life from its sacred grounds and leaves a vacant host behind The soldier takes his choked last breath and joins deaths allegiance As the poppies grow, where there once was a vacant field Left behind for others to remind.
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STUART EMSLIE Age 25 “My inspiration was that the soldiers were often fighting without an understanding of what they were fighting for, regardless of what side they were on.�
THE TALE OF TWO COUNTRIES Soldiers dying, breathing hard Hearing screams from afar Looking up at the grey stars Knowing soldiers are close by Seeing the sadness in their eyes This is now part of their everyday lives Fighting with guns and knifes Shooting missiles into the sky Gas going into their solemn eyes I see the soldiers crying out loud Not high fiving each other because they are proud No sound being made Loads of bodies found in this maze Sick to the stomach, frazzled in the brain Thunder. Lightning. Rain. Where am I from, do you not know? For I am every soldier ever to be known The unknown man from myth or law I am the old and the young I am everybody affected by World War One.
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ALEXANDRA ILES Age 22 “It really hit me on the trip to the Imperial War Museum the bravery and sacrifice that soldiers made. It was very emotional and inspiring, so I really wanted to try understand what it would have been like for these men.�
TRENCHES Darkness grows into despair The atmosphere is sombre Muffled crying fills the air As men ask how much longer Laying still in silent night Hushed voices but a whisper Preparing for the inevitable fight In the dead dark nights of winter All together and one for all To retreat is not an option Waiting for the sergeants call Only fate now knows their fortune Fighting this battle has begun Shots flying through the air Soldiers falling one by one Their last breath taken there What sacrifice was made that day Those lives now lost to ember In fields of death now poppies lay A mark left so we will remember.
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SHARMA SENNU Age 19 “Following the trip to the Imperial War Museum I was inspired to write my poem based on the politics of war, from World War One to modern day wars.”
LOVE NOT WAR Go to war they said It’s only right they said We are fighting for justice …not for the government’s money Soldiers fuelled by courage Government fuelled by hate Government full of greed Breathing in silence, sociopathic air Teaching the innocent of their ways Scheming ways of death Dismissing legislation Denying mankind Removal of truth Ridding each human of their rights But what do we really gain in the end Loss, death, segregation, losing our humanity and divine nature Ignored, is any other solution but violence Oblivious, condoning, respecting They put us there and they pulled our strings just like puppets Families torn apart Only sewn with hope Inflexibility, controlled. …And there, the government are hiding behind a mask 10
CLYDE DIXON Age 24 “After coming up with several different poems and not being content with what I had written, I finally settled on a piece that was told from the point of view of a soldier in the trenches and the thoughts that could have been running through his mind.�
FOR WHEN WILL THIS END? My eyes opened to the sky, which were dark with menace This heavy steel helmet weighing me down Soaked through clothes keeping me a pessimist With boots keeping me vacuumed to the ground I see comrades taking their final breaths I smell the foul aroma of corpses I flavour the bitter taste of death I hear mortars try and penetrate our buried fortress The shells flying over our heads, In hope the gas does not come, Fear has long since left me, Only apprehension, for when will this end? One blink of an eye and my vision becomes unclear Floating from the ground, feeling a perplexing sensation Screams coming from all directions, afar and near Flying through time as though it is an illusion (Continued overleaf)
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It’s being repeated in my mind time after time “It is my duty!” “If I don’t then they will get my mates!” “It is my duty!” “If I don’t then they will get my family!” Then a jolt to reality… I wake from that terror finding it hard to comprehend I am at home, for my war has been fought But my son has enlisted, for when will this end? Have lessons even been taught?
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MARINA WRIGHT Motivate Positive Activities Manager “I was inspired to write my poem after reading Sebastian Faulks’ book, Birdsong, where it reflects on the unprecedented horrors of World War One.”
DEATH It comes in insidiously. Into my mouth, Down my throat, Infecting my lungs. I feel poisoned. We have all been poisoned, Our reactions too slow to save us, My skin is blistering and I see red. The infection has moved to my mind, Playing images of loved ones on a loop, Searing my mind. Our reaction to death comes with us from birth, It is something that is preordained, This is my last supper, my last breath, And all I can think about is you. In the few seconds of sleep I experience, All I see is the darkness swarming behind my eye lids, Eating away at my dreams, until it is all I remember.
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RACHEL MANNING Age 18 LONLEY BOY One lonely boy treads on earth, His sorrows left unheard, He grows, he ages, his mind is changing, But hope is still afloat. A pencil and a brush, Going forward with a pallet, His imagination was his cure, But his medicine was stolen, and his anger grew dear. His path now changing for the worse, He picked up a gun and marched on forward He walked with blood in his tears, Just one of many in the masses, His face all but a blur, But he would soon be remembered, An image never to be erased As he knocked off the first rock on an eerie mountain.
KILLER? War is a’knockin’ And it’s bringing a punch, Unsettling the question, We dare not ask, Are you a killer? Could you act as God, and end the life of a man you need not know? NATURE, NUTURE, who has the power? Are we all born with blood on our hands? The evil unearthed, that had long been standing, Yet till now, may it be seen. 14
SAANIA ALI Age 16 “I wanted to create the theme of freedom as I feel that soldiers were robbed of it. My poem is trying emphasise how soldiers were trapped in war whilst trying to fight for freedom.”
FREE I look down, At his wild heart beating, There is no shrieking. But the fear in his eyes, Peaks of demise, And I can hear him call, In all his silence, that, Although he is leaving this world, He doesn’t mind it, -
For he is free
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Free of pain, And fighting, And tears, And violence. So as the green cloud swallows him whole, Leaving nothing but, His grin, his body and his soul, I know that it’s okay, For he is free of today, And its worries and horrors And all of its pain. 15
SUSAN ROACH MOTIVATE YOUTH WORKER “I was inspired after visiting the Imperial War Museum, Southend Central Museum, watching Discovery Channel’s ‘Letters Home’ and reading poems by Siegfried Sassoon and Robert Brooke.”
LASTING THOUGHT As I say goodbye to my family and home, Sister crying, Dad so proud and Mum scared, fighting back the tears, I wonder, will I ever see my family again? In the muddy trenches, with gun fire all around me, I turn to my right and wonder, is he thinking the same thing as me? Will I ever see my family again? Have to think quick, my legs moving fast, Bang, bang, bang… my friends around me are falling, Bang, bang, bang… then silence, Feeling cold and wet, I can’t move, I look up at the sky, whilst on my back and I no longer wonder, I know I will never see my family again!
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CHRIS CONREEN Age 15 Chris is a student at Southend YMCA’s Community School who has been studying World War One Poetry in their English lessons as part of the national curriculum.
“After watching World War One footage and reading Wilfred Owen’s ‘Futility’, I decided to write this poem. I was emotionally moved by his work and the senseless point of war. As I like rap music, I found it quite easy to combine the two together.”
OVER THE TOP I really don’t know how I feel Most of my friends have been injured or killed But I’ll still be waiting on that hill And when they come over, you’ll see the blood spill It went on for four whole years Blood got shed and so did the tears Going over the top is what we all fear But it still happens, and I’m still here Artillery shells come out of the blue They exploded and shrapnel flew Right towards us and over our head If it hit us we were sure to be dead There was no anaesthetic to ease the pain Two lives were lost for every centimetre of gain Mines explode, gas in the air Everyone’s dying, it just isn’t fair. (Continued overleaf)
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470 miles of trenches, it didn’t look good Very old boots and stinking trench foot We had to run over the top without taking a look We were running towards them, shooting our guns No bed, no door, just mud and stone cold floor Halfway through, we thought ‘what are we fighting for?’ A Serbian shot a Duke, that’s not our war It was called ‘no man’s land’, and that wasn’t for show Now it’s a beautiful field where poppies grow All this pain will never go away Blow tomorrow, I’m just trying to survive today I’m not thinking about just me To everyone who served R.I.P
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