John A. Moller
THE DEVIL’S RAINBOW
I saw the Devil’s Rainbow
A shroud upon the land
Purple, orange, pink and blue
And children born without their hands
or brains or eyes in Vietnam
as corporate ghouls sold their souls
in testament to greed and lies
falling from the poisoned skies.
What chemicals? The politicians said
as grieving widows buried their dead
What birth defects? They knowingly grinned
As Prime Ministers and political prostitutes
Poured themselves another stiff gin
And slunk away to Anzac Day parades
to speak fine words
and continue to deny
the dance of Death’s Rainbow
in history’s eye.
©Copyright circa 2000 by John A. Moller
As my RSM used to say to me at the age of 17 “Pickle Me up a Blind Ducks Bum.” I am greatly honoured and humbled by the “Bronze Helmet Award”; humbled because when I read the war poetry on your web site I realise what a huge number of extraordinary human beings which you must count as your closest and dearest friends. The Maori word is “Matahirri,” which means next to immediate family and those who must sit at the top table on important occasions.
I salute all those wonderful, vital, human-human souls that contribute with blood sweat and tears to your wonderful poetry site and I am grateful as an old grunt that I can be part of that “taonga” (Precious treasure of the land and nature).
I am reminded of an old saying once told to me by my grandfather, (a Gallipoli Veteran), which was, “Words, like bullets, once fired can never be recalled.” There was a message in that wise and grand old man’s saying for all of us.
Blessings upon you and yours dear friend,