blog, Pat Aitcheson writes, poetry

Echoes

 

boy-dirty_Mohammad Moin Ulhaq
Mohammad Moin Ulhaq via pexels 

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.

George Santayana

listen: 

The lessons of the past are clear to see
on pages dripping with blood shed in vain
and still we can’t escape our history.

When no-one questions how we come to be
repeating ancient wrongs, one truth remains;
the lessons of the past are clear to see.

A genocide becomes legal decree
some disbelieve an innocent’s refrain
and still we can’t escape our history.

When facts are fake, debased commodity
and Orwell’s warnings are chillingly plain
the lessons of the past are clear to see.

Complicit, distant, blind to misery
we turn away and shrug, not this again
and still we can’t escape our history.

It’s too easy to say it wasn’t me;
I’m not responsible for all this pain.
The lessons of the past are clear to see
yet still we can’t escape our history.

blog, Pat Aitcheson writes, poetry

Love shackles

(a villanelle)

chain-red link_PIRO4D
PIRO4D via pixabay

Listen to this poem: 

We’re joined by an invisible chain
we try and fail to pull apart;
each link is forged of joy and pain.

Emotions overcame my brain.
Hopelessly smitten at the start,
we’re joined by an invisible chain

that weighs so little. Yet in vain
I try to free my restless heart.
Each link is forged of joy and pain.

What is the use if I complain
about this fate I can’t outsmart?
We’re joined by an invisible chain.

Let’s tally up the loss and gain
of taking Cupid’s poisoned dart.
Each link is forged of joy and pain

so here we are, and must remain.
We wait until death do us part.
We’re joined by an invisible chain,
each link is forged of joy and pain.