Poem for a lost generation

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    Here’s a poem that I would like to share.

    All that is partial is not outside,
    Outside, by all accounts, is fair and complete.
    Lit by God’s eye, it shines, it beautifies,
    It rains lustrous and radiant of all forms.

    I saw outside the mournful grassland of my generation destroyed,
    How I mourned the meadow.
    Are you upset by how sorrowful it is?
    Does it tear you apart to see the meadow so doleful?
    I cannot help but look at the wholly muzzy realm.
    Never forgetting its tears nor neglecting its beating heart.


    This has a nice rhythm Jim though I’m pretty much in the dark as to its meaning. I was wondering if it had something to do with remembrance day given the time of year and a few phrases linking sadness to fields – maybe the killing fields of battles. Am I warm? And “wholly muzzy realm” – what’s that?


    Hi KK, yes it was about the First World War and the massacres of Passchendaele/Ypres. I don’t really want to spell it out line by line but I hope that ‘levers’ you into its theme. For me, words are a way of creating feeling rather than explicit meaning.


    Okay, I understand your position. There’s no point in creating something original if you just have to explain in layman’s terms. It reminds me of that old Don McLean quote. When asked what the lyrics of American Pie meant he answered one interviewer thus: “They mean I don’t have to work any more for a living.”

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