Lest We Forget.

Each overcast November we name the fallen

We pause our lives to remember and recall the

Debt of honour we owe them and, lest we forget,

Muffled tolled bells draw the Nation into silence.

Lest we forget, we stand them tall on tall granite

Pedestals and speak in hushed tones as we gather

In lit churches, on village greens and market squares

Where people have always met. Stood to attention

In grey graveside rain as bugles sound the Last Post,

A plaintive call to remember, lest we forget.

Lest we forget, highly choreographed pageants

At the Albert Hall refresh fading memories.

Lest we forget, a solitary Queen steps out

In jet black, keeping faith with those sanctified and

Absolved in her name, Queen and country.

Mythologised martyrs used as a rallying point

To define a form of blood-based nationalism.

A narrow view of patriotism taken up

By those who never paid the last full measure of

Devotion, now used to redefine belonging.

War and death are never clean and tidy, rarely

Simple and pure, by nature messy and sordid,

So much air brushing needed so we can forget

Events and times we choose not to recall but for

Which we might rightly bow our heads in abject shame.

Ceremonies, remembrances, and solemn tones,

Sincere, heart moving, precise, written and composed

By the victors for men and women who, had they

Lived, might not have been given the time of day as

Old veterans trying to remember their past.

The rituals help us overlook and help us

Not remember, replacing awkward truths for a

More easy accommodation with horror.

It comforts us to recall only the stories

And histories telling of young courage and bold

Endeavours, using them to seal forever the

Guilt free national narrative of contentment.

So lest we forget let us remember it all,

The sacrifices and the slaughters as we stand

Together mourning by our empty cenotaphs.

- Eamonn Kirke