I wrote this poem as I reflected on Clint Eastwood’s excellent film ‘Grand Torino’. To those of you who’ve seen it this will hopefully make a lot of sense, to those of you who haven’t, I hope its poetic enough to meaningful in its own right.
Just Like Clint (after Grand Torino)
I have no classic car, no Grand Torino,
But a dented, T-reg, Ford Mondeo.
I have no war wounds, I’ve killed no man,
But, still a past, a master plan.
No obvious prejudice so to speak,
‘Though malice lurks deep and renders me weak.
Pointed a finger, never a gun.
Raised a fist, but hit no one.
Seen the evil, done nothing about it.
Took a few words but never a bullet.
Knowledge of joy, but rarely known mourning,
A little of life, but nothing of dying.
[J_Norridge 2010]