25 since the Wall fell

It’s 25 years since the Berlin Wall fell. This very human tragedy still scars a city that I consider to be one of the most vibrant I have been to.

You can buy bits of it, though I suspect if every fragment of the wall sold was original then they’d have run out of wall a while back. You can walk its length, you can climb above it and you can weep as you read its stories at the many monuments down its length.

It’s sinister, really sinister that people believed that stopping people from seeing their loved ones, or having freedom of movement, could be of benefit to anyone. It amazes me that I know Germans who grew up in a segregated society – the concept of it seems too old, too antiquated to still be influencing my peers – but the memories linger.DSbw

Part of the wall is now an art exhibition which – except for the bits spoiled by continental European graffiti tagging – is stunning and a marvellous response to what was a symbol of tyranny.

Many sections of the wall appear to have been moved elsewhere, including a section at the entrance to the Imperial War Museum in London, but so much of it stays and lingers – but Berlin is a city that remembers and will always remember.

Berlin is a city that has been through a number of rebirths in the last one hundred years alone – thankfully its current one is a cultural and economic rebirth and it’s going from strength to strength.

Here are a few of the poems I wrote when I visited Berlin.

East Berlin Chic 

Berlin’s ideology crushed
and separated people.

A past gone.
Pushed out,

A tortured young
burned to ashes,
no longer walk.

Where they stood,
I now stand,
my back against
the hallowed,
graffiti-covered stone.


Night Raging

We shot the moon, slashed it,
set it on fire,
burned it to the ground,
danced around it.

We howled like a siren
and were caught
in the downwind.

Those who heard us, wept
as we ripped the night in half.



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