I did not see them go there with their flame to burn the city’s heart, the city’s bones. I did not see the past fall down in ash or hear the cries of covenant in pain. I did not hear the gongs of history clash or see foe-cities’ gods fight in the square. Yet inContinue reading “How lonely sits the city”
Reading Italo, I see Italian youths preparing to swim while il Duce prepares for war. At home, on our couch, while afternoon leisure blends with our tea, a reporter speaks to a background of song: Australia may soon be under attack. The words overlap with piano and strings and my mind hears, I am titanium.
Clouds drift; distant, the birds sing. The courtyard sunk in silence sits. Somewhere cars continue the day, and floating in the distance thoughts of mateship dearly bought, and peace woven where no need for war had driven us to foreign shores, repeat: We shall remember them. This has no glory, only silence. And in theContinue reading “The Last Post”
These tragedies that war upon the screen, These day-to-day reminders that all’s sick: They cut into our vision as we dream And lie within stale hearts. The silent prick Of death we can repress, but not the waves That fight like foes upon our passive shores, Waging war where war was not. The graves ThatContinue reading “Remembrance”
As October draws to a close, it’s time for an essay to draw together our month spent with W.H. Auden. He is a controversial figure in Christian poetry, and so this essay comes with a minor warning that it may not be to everyone’s reading taste. But he is, I think, still a rewarding poetContinue reading “W.H. Auden: Undoing the Folded Lie”