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Ice creams on a Sunday


The buzzing bees circulate around the flowers
waspishly congregating around the litter bins.
There is a dull hush of subdued conversation
After all this is England. A gaggle of
Liberated women push buggies and hold tiny
Hands, Two old men shuffle over to a bench.
The slave-built stone mansion squats ugily
As they talk retrospectively, of how generations
Disappear whilst slave-built mansions remain.
Fixed in this landscape as though a natural
Phenomena. We decide to join the queue
For ice creams. Little did I suspect
This would be the last sunny Sunday
We'd spend together before his suicide.
I had an inkling of what might come to pass
With you, my life-long friend, classics scholar
and stoic. 
This ugly slave-built edifice remains
whilst my friends just disappear. 




BOSNIA (July 11th, 1995) ►


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John Marks

Mon 10th Jun 2024 20:37

Thank you Red, Trevor, Tom, Stephen G, Holden, Manish, Hélène, Stephen A and Aisha. Also, thanks to you David for commenting. My friend, Chris, was a good man, brave too. Qualities rare enough in any age and certainly uncommon in this squalid hive of spivs. "There is but one thing of real value – to cultivate truth and justice, and to live without anger in the midst of lying and unjust men." Marcus Aurelius.

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David RL Moore

Mon 10th Jun 2024 13:07

Hi John,

Those ugly reminders of the past are indeed deeply ugly and the fact they remain when beauty passes is almost agonising.

Do we need that ugly reminder of the past as a measure...I would say yes if we pay heed to it. It seems less and less we pay heed to it, we destroy it and remove it from our eyes instead of highlighting its ugliness and educating fresh eyes as to how it diminishes mankind.

I was in Potsdam last year and visited "New Palace" there were statues there of slaves who had helped to build the place...great ugliness amongst something of beauty. Will this always be the way, is it how things need to be whilst we are so savage.

I'm sorry for the loss of your friend.


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