Remembrance Day Poem by NAO Student:
Remembrance Day 2015
A poem
On the eleventh day
at the eleventh hour
in the month of November,
Manual Osteopathy students
of National Academy of Osteopathy
rise up together and bow our heads
in remembrance of the armed forces
of Canada and other Nations,
who died fighting for their countries
in foreign lands, in enemy hands.
Footage of world wars I and II
salvaged on film, unravels the carnage
of the dark hours.
Eerie images of metal monsters
rolling slowly on caterpillar wheels
writing the destiny of the soldiers
on the muddy terrain
of the unforgiving war lands.
Fathers, husbands, uncles and brothers
rush together bound by duty
against the formidable enemy lines.
Their lives ending prematurely
from the deadly kiss of bullets,
heavy rain of mortar shells
and ear splitting missile fires,
far away from the warmth of home
and the embrace of their loved ones.
Chrome coloured army tanks
belch thick black plumes of smoke
creating velvety black quantum roses
to bloom randomly
and vanish like a vision,
into the surrounding grey.
The assassination
of Archduke Franz Ferdinand
becomes the probable flick of the finger
that collapsed the stack of cards
as one war is followed by another.
First the battle of Tannenberg,
then, the battle of Marne
followed by the first battle of Ypres,
Verdun and Somme
and the cards keep falling.
Zeppelin airships
and German Gotha bombers
creating the reign of terror in the skies.
D–47 Dakotas, Hawker Hurricanes,
Avro Lancasters, Mustang aircrafts
and Handley Page Halifax heavy bombers
in flight and also falling like injured birds.
Soldiers choking from poison gases.
Last meals eaten hastily on sea vessels,
on choppy waters before their last war.
Serpentine trenches studded with the fallen
superimposes the sadness that lingers.
And the souls of the brave soldiers
sprout out of the disturbed earth,
as bright red poppies
dancing jubilantly in the wind.
We remember the past battle of Normandy
and the modern war of today.
Overcome with emotion,
I clench the artificial poppy on my jacket.
The pin pricks my thumb
and blood runs down my wrist.
I pray that George Leroux’s L’Enfer
will remain a thing of the past
and peace would follow in the future
like a flowing river.
Written by – Dr. Chris Vincent, MBBS (National Academy of Osteopathy student, Toronto Class of Sept 2015)
Remembrance Day 2015
A poem
On the eleventh day
at the eleventh hour
in the month of November,
Manual Osteopathy students
of National Academy of Osteopathy
rise up together and bow our heads
in remembrance of the armed forces
of Canada and other Nations,
who died fighting for their countries
in foreign lands, in enemy hands.
Footage of world wars I and II
salvaged on film, unravels the carnage
of the dark hours.
Eerie images of metal monsters
rolling slowly on caterpillar wheels
writing the destiny of the soldiers
on the muddy terrain
of the unforgiving war lands.
Fathers, husbands, uncles and brothers
rush together bound by duty
against the formidable enemy lines.
Their lives ending prematurely
from the deadly kiss of bullets,
heavy rain of mortar shells
and ear splitting missile fires,
far away from the warmth of home
and the embrace of their loved ones.
Chrome coloured army tanks
belch thick black plumes of smoke
creating velvety black quantum roses
to bloom randomly
and vanish like a vision,
into the surrounding grey.
The assassination
of Archduke Franz Ferdinand
becomes the probable flick of the finger
that collapsed the stack of cards
as one war is followed by another.
First the battle of Tannenberg,
then, the battle of Marne
followed by the first battle of Ypres,
Verdun and Somme
and the cards keep falling.
Zeppelin airships
and German Gotha bombers
creating the reign of terror in the skies.
D–47 Dakotas, Hawker Hurricanes,
Avro Lancasters, Mustang aircrafts
and Handley Page Halifax heavy bombers
in flight and also falling like injured birds.
Soldiers choking from poison gases.
Last meals eaten hastily on sea vessels,
on choppy waters before their last war.
Serpentine trenches studded with the fallen
superimposes the sadness that lingers.
And the souls of the brave soldiers
sprout out of the disturbed earth,
as bright red poppies
dancing jubilantly in the wind.
We remember the past battle of Normandy
and the modern war of today.
Overcome with emotion,
I clench the artificial poppy on my jacket.
The pin pricks my thumb
and blood runs down my wrist.
I pray that George Leroux’s L’Enfer
will remain a thing of the past
and peace would follow in the future
like a flowing river.
Written by – Dr. Chris Vincent, MBBS (National Academy of Osteopathy student, Toronto Class of Sept 2015)
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