Two Poems On The Remembrance Day Of Canada

A poppy field in remembrance of the Canadian war dead

Artwork (Toronto: November 2018) © Mary D'Costa

Canadians, at 11 a.m. on November 11 every year, observe a moment of silence in honour and remembrance of the dedicated soldiers who gave their lives and the living ones who continue to serve in the army during wars and conflicts. Those who died fighting for freedom and peace in the First World War (1914-1918), Second World War (1939-1945), Korean War (1950-1953), and Afghanistan War (2001-2014) are especially remembered.

To learn more, please read the following:

• Remembrance Day in Canada (Nov. 7, 2011)
• Remembrance Day in Canada 
• What's special about this Remembrance Day? Most Canadians don't know (Nov. 7, 2018)
• [Video] Remembrance Day Video -- 11 Canadian Contributions (July 14, 2018)
• [Video] Remembrance Day -- Canada Remembers on Nov. 11

On the occasion of the Remembrance Day in Canada, we present below Adrian D'Costa's two poems. 

Blood Soaked Poppies

By Adrian D’Costa

Armistice Day was it. So, they call it.

A break from the war.

Then again, the barrage of fire started.

Our boys and girls fought there at the Flanders Fields.

The blood that gushed out of their body

Filled the emptiness left behind by enemies.

Enemy soldiers were killing whoever was on their way.

Each day’s bloodshed grew new poppies in the field.

Poppy grew one after another. And another. And another.

Soon they make the field red.

Bloody was it. The field was red blood.

The roads were blood-soaked muddy.

But our boys stayed strong.

Our girls stayed steadfast.

They knew what they were there for.

They knew it from the beginning.

So, they sacrificed the ultimate sacrifice.

Now they are written in the stone walls of the world.

At the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month 

we cease to exist and remember them out of respect.

History will repeat again

If we forget the past over and over

And the same mistake will emerge out of darkness.

Will eat our lives alive.

So, we bow our heads in silence for two minutes.

Lest we forget.

Peace In A No Man’s Land

By Adrian D’Costa

Peace. What is the true nature of Thou
in thy own poppy field?
Are you the melted poppy in the Flanders Fields
or are you the old forgotten poppy in
the Arlington Cemetery?

Then why do I bow my head
on the Remembrance Day?
If the poppy reminds us the
wet, muddy and bloody war history
then why do we bear weapons 

against our brethren and sisters?

After every soldier’s fall
the 21-gun salute
rings from one end of the earth
to another.
Then on the next second why
another one drenches his
suit with the red blood of his own?

Why the canon ball rises high up in the air
and doesn’t strike our moral conscience?
Peace, are you that fragile?
Are you a being or an innate object
played by monstrous monstrosity?

Why the decapitated mind of falsification
hides the truth from the fact?
Why Peace lies to humanity repeatedly
and tries to make amend for the errors made before?

I lie here and try to fathom
the diluted mind of anguish.
After a lot of soul searching
I define peace to be a part of the moral compass
that each and everyone possesses
to make this world a better place.

It’s not the fault of the peace though,
that the world is in entropy and in disarray.
The war in the field, the mines in the battleground --
They are not part of the peace.
They are what they are.
They are absolute wretchedness of social autocracy.
I can be superior to them.
That’s the pride.
And that’s the first reason in the causal effect.