Regular readers will remember that I have often reposted “The Last Remembrance” to commemorate Remembrance Sunday. Today, I am offering this simple but powerful poem instead.
I first discovered this poem in September 1968.
Waste of Muscle, waste of Brain, Waste of Patience, waste of Pain, Waste of Manhood, waste of Health, Waste of Beauty, waste of Wealth, Waste of Blood, and waste of Tears, Waste of Youth’s most precious years, Waste of ways the Saints have trod, Waste of Glory, waste of God,– War!
It was written by Rev Geoffrey Studdert Kennedy, an amazing man. You can read about him here: (Woodbine Willy),
‘A simple song’ is a debut song by Khalid Abdalla. It is dedicated to the children of Palestine, past, present and future. And to all children of genocide. Khalid says the song came to him when, ‘in the middle of an ongoing genocide, Trump and Netanyahu proposed ethnically cleansing Gaza and turning it into a Riviera’. It was first released on his social media and received over half a million views in 24 hours. Khalid is a multidisciplinary artist, known as an actor for his roles in The Crown and The Kite Runner, amongst others, and for his commitment to breaking silence on Palestine.
Written by Khalid Abdalla Produced by Martin Terefe and Dave Okumu Recorded by Liam Larking, Oskar Winberg and George Murphy at Eastcote Studios, London. Assisted by Ed Clay. Mixed by Martin Terefe and George Murphy Khalid Abdalla – Vocals and Piano Dave Okumu – Electric Guitar Martin Terefe – Wurlitzer and Electronics Nikolaj Torp Larsen – Accordion Dan See – Drums Backing vocals by: Jodie Shanahan, Siobhan Elouise; Shamime Ibrahim, Suzanne Ghadban, Bryant Akanmu Mastered by Dyre Gormsen at Eastcote Mastering Recording administration by Annie Benson
Music Video Credits Directed by Khalid Abdalla with Led by Donkeys Bournemouth Beach footage courtesy of Led by Donkeys Studio Footage Director Jamie Isbell, DOP Johnny Ho, with JAM+Post Edited by Milan Mezei
60 years ago today I travelled to Harrogate, in Yorkshire, to report to Hildebrand Barracks, co-located with Uniacke Barracks, to start my army career. Who would have thought I’d serve for 28 years and 151 days, and can someone please explain just where that 60 years has gone to?
You can read a bit more here (and I still haven’t finished this series):
A lot of what I write on WordPress is not available for general viewing as it is in the form of comments.
I have, for some time, kept a record of comments that I thought may be useful to share in future. Points of view, random musings, some serious, others facile. I have always thought it may be a useful source, and of interest to a wider audience.
I’ve been very quiet of late, for various reasons, but have always kept up my reading of, and commenting on, those blogs that I follow.
A comment today is, I think, rather important. The post, one of a daily output from Carolyn at catsincambridge, prompted me to comment:
“Your posts always remind me of the fact that I, too, have been lucky in life to receive more than my share of good things. One of these is the fact that I have shared the last 50 years of my life married to a very good woman who has put up with my many foibles, has followed me round the world during my army career, has given me a wonderful daughter and, together, we have built a wonderful home just as we dreamed. Today is our anniversary.”
On 23 April Nina wrote her poem, Unsung Heroes, and commented as follows:
*I felt really emotional writing this. Sometimes, Napowrimo feels like a mental excavation and it gets overwhelming when you try and write as authentically as you can. Is it just me? Anyway, it’s a really rough write that needs editing but like a lot of my writes this month, I’ve posted them as is.
“I think this is an amazing piece of writing Nina which reads perfectly and powerfully. I would like to record it as a Spoken Word if I may, and repost it? I particularly like “Death too lurks everywhere as if with a daily quota to tick but sometimes someone’s soul will say not today, Death. Not today.”
Nina said OK, so here it is
Unsung Heroes
So many of them walk among us.
Death too lurks everywhere as if with a daily quota to tick but sometimes someone’s soul will say not today, Death. Not today.
The paramedic who does CPR just in time. The woman who pulls you out of the way of a bus. The lifeguard who drags you out of the current. The allies, the valiant, acting on instinct.
Those who can talk you back from the brink as you stand on a precipice not knowing how you got there.
The deep-sea divers in Thailand some years ago who saved that group of thirteen and braved the flooded cave, the valour, the strength, the resolve it took. I cannot fathom such heroism.
Someone says the odds are slim but courage says let us try, let us try we have to, because we must.
And it’s true that fortune favours the brave for something on high steps in and says I’ll help you.
The firefighters, the soldiers, the freedom fighters performing feats of grit and mettle looking death square in the eye. They signed up for it but how hard it must be to keep your cool in the face of jeopardy and know that one false move means you would perish too.
That is some steel will, right there – Timing, it’s all about timing, isn’t it? One second too late and then –
And of course the good, good parents doing their best every day, all their days the single mothers, the lone fathers guardians, keepers, teachers, carers cos that’s where it all begins with those who keep a watchful eye and do their part to plant the good, good seeds.
“The few own the many because they possess the means of livelihood of all … The country is governed for the richest, for the corporations, the bankers, the land speculators, and for the exploiters of labor. The majority of mankind are working people. So long as their fair demands—the ownership and control of their livelihoods—are set at naught, we can have neither men’s rights nor women’s rights. The majority of mankind is ground down by industrial oppression in order that the small remnant may live in ease.”
—Helen Keller, 1911
Helen Keller portrait, 1904. Due to a protruding left eye, Keller was usually photographed in profile until she had her eyes replaced c. 1911 with glass replicas for “medical and cosmetic reasons”.
A remarkable lady. You can read more about her HERE.
Peter's pondering 
