PPAC: War memorials

I have gathered public monuments to the fallen from Slovenia and Italy of diverse artistry, but always here to make us think. After all, we used to kill each other. Plus there is this poem that I have been writing since Thursday when it all began.

Soft War Song

It’s the end of 
War Day One
and I’m grateful 
for the warmth, 
for the food,
for the water,
for no war,
at least not here
in the spring of Tuscany,
but then I see
that Ukraine is 
only removed from Slovenia
by one Hungary.

Softly softly

Meanwhile, 
they are in Chernobyl already.
They have taken over.
Why go after 
a closed down
clearly defunct
better-believe-untouchable
power plant
first thing 
on War Day One?
WHO IS SOFT ON THE BRAIN?	

Softly softly

Meanwhile, 
our Prime Minister
in a blue-yellow tie
regrets the current events.
He was just about to fly
to Ukraine himself
today, as a matter of fact.
Coincidence? 
Think not.
Sean Penn is there already.

Softly softly

As Finns panic-buy all the iodine tablets
that help with radiation 
(they do? never heard of them),
friends are posting songs like
“Let's Start a War 
(Said Maggie One Day)”
and “I Don’t Want to be a Soldier”,
and scientists warn
that the first octopus farm
would be an ethical disaster.

While the target is on you – 
for me the war is a sweet tweet,
a cute FB post,
a street art intervention.
 
Should we start believing 
that war happens to others 
while we still have this soft blanket
of basketball,
Eurovision Song Contest,
skiing,
Thursday Doors,
and free 
soft
fluffy
radioactive
octopi,
we are in for a hard fall.

Since this is a public art post as hosted by Marsha, I have gathered several monuments to the fallen in various wars from Slovenia where I’m from and Italy where I live now. If this were World War II., we would be on opposite sides.

I was 21 when Slovenia won its independence from Yugoslavia after a 10-day war. There was an air-attack warning already and the Yugoslav Army planes left Belgrade to bomb Ljubljana but somebody made them turn around. Some say that it was the Vatican.

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  Street art where it shouldn’t be one. Ostiense, Rome, 2015.

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  In 2016 I saw this exhibition in Rome. One way of putting it.

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  Oh, they know. 2013, first time together in Rome.

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  If you’re lucky, a tank in the street is an art project. Ljubljana 2019.

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  In memory of the victims of Nazi Fascism. Doberdob, Italy.

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  Not far away, Redipuglia WW1 memorial and ossuary.

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  The Red Star is the symbol of liberation. Velenje, Slovenia. For us, Partizan is a good word.

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  A memorial to the “Illegals”, freedom fighters in WW2, Ljubljana.

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  Memorial to Austrian victims of both wars at Žale Cemetery in Ljubljana. They know that the only victory is when there is no war.

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  In Caldana, Tuscany, they are still in the fighting mode.

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  Here too, in Porto Ercole.

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  Or here, in Monticiano. Mom is just playing. She might be a Partisan Association member…

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  …but she is all for peace. Cafe of Peace in Rome.

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  If there are Partisans in the hills, we are safe, they know in Pisa.

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  In Vitorchiano they celebrate the fallen for the homeland in the back, but the boy in front, despite the thorn problem, warned Romans of the invading Etruscans.

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  I prefer my soldiers idle. Miramare Castle near Trieste.

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  In Porto Ercole they suffered through 109 incursions during WW2.

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  Erected in Talamone for the victims of WW1.

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  In Grosseto, our regional capital, they know. A country may win the war, but it’s the humanity that loses.

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  Jewish Quarter in Rome.

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  My first vist of Rome, in 2012.

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  Russian Chapel at Vršič in the Julian Alps, Slovenia. Russian prisoners built it.

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  But wars continue until your surname is among the fallen. (Almost mine, sixth from the top.) Javorca Chapel, Julian Alps, Slovenia.

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  Neither art nor a monument but the real deal. A palm tree shot through by RAF still standing in the botanical garden of Porto Ercole, Tuscany.

For Photographing Public Art Challenge (PPAC) hosted by Marsha at Always Write

This day in my blogging history

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  2015: Five from Lefkada (Lefkas)

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  2016: You can lead a horticulture, but you can’t make her think.
  —Dorothy Parker

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  2018: Disturbance in the force. The only snow in nine years.

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  2019: Under the macroscope: A succulent new world.

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