They were surprised by the fetid sounds of war. They were surprised by the trembling earth. They were surprised by their quaking limbs. And soon everything seemed to be exploding, the air, the ground... Her children’s blood gushed from the earth instead of oil destroying smiles and tears and bone. It’s been exploding ever since, dirty bombs, shredding metal, and from them flesh and bone.
Liberators with gun and grenade, redeemers with rifle and heavy tank, tendering rapid-fire liberty with death, landing on wings slayed brown broods and the blood of them filled the Dijla with a charity of the innocent’s blood.
Rescuers that the nations would resent, stones instead of kisses, bombs over roses, freedom that the free might consume in a country teetering and spent. God to God with them to frowning flesh! Iraqis exploding like atoms to be buried under tables dead where they lived.
Gruesome commander: See them, their dead liberty, gaze their broken homeland, from corpses holding children instead of hope and roses, all our soldiers of America and every corpse a gallon of oil, every life left to poisonous soil which will very soon seek the heart of creation.
Soon the books will but speak briefly holding the tongues of the imprisoned that lies may flourish underground, and Iraqi souls might find their way from `neath the fiery dwelling, from under civilization carrying the buried and bleeding truth toward a stillness. Toward home.
Iraq War Victims
Pablo Neruda
The Tigris
Liberators with gun and grenade, redeemers with rifle and heavy tank, tendering rapid-fire liberty with death, landing on wings slayed brown broods and the blood of them filled the Dijla with a charity of the innocent’s blood.
Rescuers that the nations would resent, stones instead of kisses, bombs over roses, freedom that the free might consume in a country teetering and spent. God to God with them to frowning flesh! Iraqis exploding like atoms to be buried under tables dead where they lived.
Gruesome commander: See them, their dead liberty, gaze their broken homeland, from corpses holding children instead of hope and roses, all our soldiers of America and every corpse a gallon of oil, every life left to poisonous soil which will very soon seek the heart of creation.
Soon the books will but speak briefly holding the tongues of the imprisoned that lies may flourish underground, and Iraqi souls might find their way from `neath the fiery dwelling, from under civilization carrying the buried and bleeding truth toward a stillness. Toward home.
Iraq War Victims
Pablo Neruda
The Tigris
© 2009 mrp/thepoetryman
A very powerful statement. It is imperative that a human face be put on this fiasco.
ReplyDeleteAnd may you live long and keep reminding us of this, lest we all become numb from the shock and pain. Thank you.
ReplyDeletelulu,
ReplyDeleteI thank you for your kindness. And the world can always- always use more of that!
Case,
ReplyDeleteThank you, sir. Your words are very welcome here. You are one of the human faces peering into the well...
Hey Mark,
ReplyDeletePowerful images. BTW, did you know that Poetic Justice is also the name of Joy Harjo's backup jazz band? Check 'em out sometime.
I have a new post up today.
http://crowpoetry.blogspot.com
Perfect photograph for this poem. One gives rage, the other a glimpse of serenity where none seems possible.
ReplyDeleteI don't spend much time mulling over the photos... It's odd... It is as if I search for a picture and I do not think long and hard I just wait for the pic to jump out and then I use it. But, yes, it is my favorite combination of picture and poem... Thank you, mirth, for visiting and leaving your comments, they are, as all are, truly cherished by me.
ReplyDeletelulu, I was so happy to meet you at Amblog! And I love seeing your comments here. This is a site that evokes strong emotion. It's good to read strong and yet kind voices.
ReplyDeleteThank you TPM.
ReplyDeleteIt is difficult for me to leave a comment here. Your rage and grief is shared and your poems nearly suffocate me with emotion. My feeble posts are only to let you know I was here.
Case: yes, it is the human face to the barrage of neutered horror that we need. I find that here.
mirth,
ReplyDeleteYou having difficulty expressing yourself here is a sign of your good soul. I hope in time it becomes easier for you to reply to what you read here. Not become numb to it, but explode with replies of hope!
Awrightythen!
ReplyDeleteI hope that the whole lot of these souless criminals running our government collectively suffer an immediate and unkindly demise!
Wait a minute...that would mean national mourning and a grandiose funeral ala Reagan in spite of his crimes.
Ok. This isn't exactly what you meant. I'll give this whole hope thing more thought.
The port deal! There's some hope in that! The greedy bastards have overplayed their murderous hands with this!
Hopefully.