A couple of evenings ago, I wrote a piece that I have begun to consider one of my favourite pieces ever. It moved me when I wrote it and still moves me when I read it. I have written a cheap little score for it and spoken it — (it took me a few days to build up the courage to actually try and read it).
I hope you enjoy this first audio draft of
Not so different: You and I
Black and white.
Black as night,
White so bright.
From afar, from this far
It looks black and white and it seems right,
That black and white should fight.
Pick a side
Take the ride and surf the tide.
If you haven’t tried to see,
You can’t see the blood that bleeds
On the ground right under your feet.
You look on from high,
But just try fly by and zoom in from the sky.
You’ll see black and white become flecks
Then become specks
Then become complex objects
And then you’ll see these subjects.
From the black side one came,
White was the other’s game,
Both with their own aims
Yet both made of the same…
————
He was always a good kid,
What his dad said he did
He stayed on the grid
Amid world that bid to taint the saint from him.
There were no complaints from him
He felt no constraint on himself.
“You’ll learn some discipline, a good lesson son” His father had said.
So he felt no dread as he packed up his bed
Said his goodbyes,
Although some tears were shed.
He was the oldest child
Now that things had got wild
Yet he still smiled
As he worked the fields with their reducing yields.
Since his Baba had died he’d become so tired
Although he tried,
He knew his mother cried as the crops fried under the sun.
Not enough to feed everyone.
He new of a way to earn some pay
Without fear of the sun that burned so hot each day.
He knew what his mother would say
But his mind was made.
He put down his hoe
And left with belongings in tow.
He knew it wouldn’t be easy
But this new life had started to squeeze.
So regimental, his progress seemed incremental
Rewards felt ornamental
But his fathers words on discipline echoed in him
He worked hard,
Each yard he played with his best card.
Working hard into the night
To be up at first light with muscles tight
He did what was right,
What he was told.
Onto thoughts of his family he did hold.
He stepped off the plane into a heat that did scold
Suddenly his situation was emblazoned in bold
But he had trained for this,
He remained controlled.
His life was a plateau,
A one way flow.
This was the way he had to go.
Put through the comb and moulded like foam
He would continue and send his money home.
Some of the purpose he could not see,
Couldn’t agree there was certainty in the enemy
But concerned for his family,
He learned to be,
Earned his fee,
Became the weapon he needed to be.
Days and nights were spent,
Intent to give the percent required for his ascent.
Time had flown
While he had shown his ability and agility.
Although he lacked the hostility,
Retaining a hint of fragility,
He was now a working utility
Sent off to be what he had to be.
His heart pounded in his ears.
He thought he was hard beyond his years
But his ears.
His ears carried fears laden with tears
He sat, back to a wall as leaden missiles seared past,
Eyes a bleary mask.
He had trained and strained to be ready for this
But the hiss!
The hiss was enveloping his bliss with each near miss.
How long before he wore their kiss?
He’d not held a desire to see live fire,
He’d held a wire of hope
That he’d be beyond the front-line scope
But here he was on the ropes,
Moving down the slopes.
Cope…
He must cope.
Positional change brings him into range,
A burst fired exchange.
Something’s strange as he finds cover.
His brother in arms,
a face ringing alarm.
He pulls his comrade close
To see his glassy eyes
Locked now forever in surprise,
A guise that he tries to amend
As he closes the eyes of his friend.
He gets on the radio
“We’ve got to go.
Man down!
I don’t know.
I don’t know how the others go!”
He clutches his fallen ally
Stares at the sky while more bullets fly
When he hears a guttural, primal cry
His ears ring as fire fills the sky
The world fades to black…
Here, his first mission.
To defend this position.
How quickly his erudition of ammunition,
His apparent intuition had abandoned him
With this approaching coalition.
Heart racing he perspired,
Crouching in the door as he blind-fired.
All he had aspired,
All he desired was to help his family
Who lived life so tried.
Thud.
Thud.
The bullets rang
The dirt on his face became mud when laced
With the wet, sweat
Of being in a battle he didn’t covet.
A lull…
The thuds dulled on the hull of this outpost.
His allies engrossed in this searing roast.
Peering around the corner
To see ghostly figures through the haze
His weapon blazed,
He became dazed as he saw a ghost fall.
He hoped he had grazed.
Oh how he hoped he had grazed!
With a mind crazed
He pulled back inside to hide.
The falling figure kept playing inside his eyes.
He clutched at his eyes
Thought of nights
Spent with his Baba
Under pleasant skies while bullets fly
When he hears a guttural, primal cry
His ears ring as fire fills the sky
The world fades to white…
His world is dust,
His face has a crust
All he sees is unjust,
His brothers, his enemies
Lay scattered around him on the ground.
He can hear no sound,
Just a ringing that pounds,
All his thoughts drowned.
He picks a direction,
No time for correction and crawls.. to find anyone.
His world is dust.
From somewhere blood gushes and rushes.
Disgust rolls over him in waves as he surveys the land,
Touched by battles firm hand.
Allies and enemies unknown have flown
As though the ground has grown a morbid garden
To sicken even those most hardened from battle.
He picks a direction,
No time for correction and crawls… to find anyone.
He is so close as though the other arose from the dust.
Immediate distrust.
Yet the other seems not imposing as their paths are closing.
Wounded, broken,
What side the other comes from is token.
He’ll trade a bandage for water.
He is so close as though the other arose from the dust.
Immediate distrust.
Yet the other seems not imposing as their paths are closing.
Wounded, broken,
What side the other comes from is token.
He’ll trade water for aide.
————-
The others sit side by side under a blackened sky trading what they need to get by. The say together:
“We’re not so different you and I…so why?
