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Inauguration Ball

 

Champagne flows like the Tigris’ waters.

Fireworks above like a battlefield flare

Fine caviar by the shovels full.

Orchestral music fills the air.

 

Sterling platters, crystal flutes

Neatly placed on jacquard linen

(those flutes reminiscent of mortar shells).

Such elegance! What a lovely time!

 

Insouciant, self-congratulent,

scions of the nation’s wealth and power,

weapons makers, the Haliburton crowd

oil CEOs; their grandest hour.

 

Iraq: No water, no power, no food. 

Gaunt orphans beg and starve and die.

Fireworks for the innocents of that place?

Shock and Awe must suffice.

 

Their ballroom is their grave.

Toxins, germs, those WMD’s?

Never were! Soldiers wary of IEDs

Sweaty and weary, cold MRE’s.

 

Walking wounded at Walter Reed,

Eyes and limbs lost in the fight. Working

class! Embarrassing!

Better keep them out of sight.

 

Hand-tooled boots, designer gowns

Wealth dances away the night.

 

In a distant land on the burning sand, 

another falls and  dies.

 

 

--John R. Guthrie,

1.23.05

 

 

Two poems by Wilfred Owen (1893-1918). A teacher, he visited a hospital for war wounded on the Continent, then  decided to  enter the British army “…help these  boys” by leading them as an officer in the Royal Army. He Was killed  in a  German machine gun attack one week before the end  of WW I. On November 11 in his  hometown of Shrewsbury, England, the bells were pealing in celebration when his parents were  summoned  to the door to receive the telegram informing them of their son’s death.

 

 

Lines FromDulce et Decorum”

 

…If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,-
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

 

THE PARABLE OF THE OLD MAN AND THE YOUNG

 

So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went,
And took the fire with him, and a knife.
And as they sojourned both of them together,
Isaac the first-born spake and said, My Father,
Behold the preparations, fire and iron,
But where the lamb, for this burnt-offering?
Then Abram bound the youth with belts and straps,
And builded parapets and trenches there,
And stretched forth the knife to slay his son.
When lo! an Angel called him out of heaven;
Saying, Lay not thy hand upon the lad,
Neither do anything to him, thy son.
Behold! Caught in a thicket by its horns,
A Ram.
Offer the Ram of Pride instead.


But the old man would not so, but slew his son,
And half the seed of
Europe, one by one.

 

 

 

 

 

Sir Gawaine; Knight Errant of Poetry

 

Growing up, his adult relatives were alcoholics. Trying to find something, perhaps himself, he hitchhiked as a young man to nearly every state in the Union. His father died, and with modest sum he inherited, he bought passage to India and lived in the international anarchist spiritual community called Auroville.

Still, there came a point in his mid-twenties when he fully realized his despair. And in such dark moments of the soul’s night mightn’t we be perpetually lost if we lack the vision and audacity to reinvent ourselves?

In that he had never had positive male role models, he decided to choose one. He knew quite well that of all the knights of King Arthur’s Round Table, Sir Gawaine, was the most fearless, the most debonair, the most loyal. He was Guinevere's personal champion as well.

He decided that Gawaine’s ideals would be his guiding star and dubbed himself “Sir Gawaine Ross.”  And that had been his name ever since. It is thus that he reinvented the troubled young man that he had been as Gawaine’s namesake and continues to this day to be known to his friends as Sir Gawaine.

 

The Bad Priest

by Sir Gawaine

 

In Lyons

(I think it was Easter, 1438)

I was a priest and somehow can recall

The dim church, the heavy clouds of frankincense

And the knights and burgesses lining up for communion.

I chanted the magic words and did

The magic gestures but instead of the wine

Becoming the blood of our blessed Lord,

It changed into piss.

I was not ready for this.

Inside the chalice, the reflection

Of my own most hideous face -

As I poured out my face onto the floor

A thousand rats writhing in a sea of worms

Destroyed my last pretense to piety.

The congregation - the whores no less than

The robber barons - knew that I was one of them

And could no longer hide the fact.

The stained glass windows buckled and shattered,

The cathedral roof fell, and we all shrieked

As the earth quaked and God

Was deaf to the sobs of the amputees.

 

For the unforgivable crime of sacrilege

The ecclesiastical tribunal interrogated me

Under the direction of the Bishop and

His Dominican friars. Those Domine Canes

(The Lord’s bloodhounds) figured I’d sold

My soul to the adversary and when they

Hung me up backwards and hammered

My ankles and elbows

I became convinced that they must be right

For they showed such tender concern

For the state of my soul.

I confessed and prepared myself

For being burned at the stake.

There would be no merciful strangling instead.

I could pray for the grace of God,

But I knew I wouldn’t get it.

I could not even look forward to oblivion

As I regarded that yellow shirt

Printed with the Devil’s signs

That I’d have to wear

On that morning of jeers and blows.

 

My friends will ask for my forgiveness

As they set the straw afire.

Will I be a Christian then?

 

 --end--

 

 

Pablo Neruda: Also, see Neruda Article Under “Articles.”

 

Body of a Woman
by Pablo Neruda

Body of a woman, white hills, white thighs,
you look like a world, lying in surrender.
My rough peasant's body digs in you
and makes the son leap from the depth of the earth.

I only was a tunnel. The birds fled from me,
and nigh swamped me with its crushing invasion.
To survive myself I forged you like a weapon,
like an arrow in my bow, a stone in my sling.

But the hour of vengeance falls, and I love you.
Body of skin, of moss, of eager and firm milk.
Oh the goblets of the breast! Oh the eyes of absence!
Oh the roses of the pubis! Oh your voice, slow and sad!

Body of my woman, I will persist in your grace.
My thirst, my boundless desire, my shifting road!
Dark river-beds where the eternal thirst flows
and weariness follows,
and the infinite ache.

 

 

Lines from one of Neruda’s political poems, “The Battle of the Jarama River.” (the battle occurred on 11th February, 1937), a brave stand with great losses by the Republican forces including the Lincoln Brigade. They fought, the fascist forces of Franco.

 

…The coarse-milled flour of your people

Bristled  everywhere with metal and bones,

Formidable like a field of wheat, like the noble earth

They defended…

 

Jarama, to find words for your regions

Of splendor and master, my mouth

Is not equal to it, and my hand is pale:

There your dead remained….

 

 

 

The Chickasaw Plum  -  Volume II - Number 2 - February 2005

 

 

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