SNOW! AGAIN! \o/ Also, war poems.
Feb. 2nd, 2010 08:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vanitashazeThis isgetting freaky, my friends.
In other news, Yusef Komunkayaa - HAHA YES I SPELLED HIS NAME RIGHT FOR THE FIRST TIME IN WEEKS - rules my soul, especially with the advent of his most recent volume, Warhorses. Like his earlier Talking Dirty to the Gods - which dealt with divinity and spirituality - this themed collection deals with war, both Komunkayaa's own experiences in Vietnam and the more eternal archetypes, the outer war and the inner. I do not often say this about war poetry, but here is a collection that is utterly gorgeous, and it is raw, and primal. So many interesting thoughts here about violence, struggle, love, passion, fury, intensity, conflict - the list goes on and on. It's magnificent; I can't recommend it highly enough. It's got guts, ya'll. All of Warhorses is hot with blood.
1.
"Hand-to hand: the two hugged each other
into a naked tussle, one riding the other's back,
locked in a double embrace. One
forced the other to kiss the ground,
as he cursed & bit into an earlobe.
They shook beads of dew off the grass.
One worked his fingers into the black soil,
& could feel a wing easing out of his scapula.
That night, the lucky one who gripped
a stone like Mercury weighing the planet
in his palm, who knew windfall & downfall,
he fell against his sweetheart again
& again, as if holding that warrior in his arms,
& couldn't stop himself from rising off the earth."
2.
"Tribe. Clan. Valley & riverbank. Country. Continent. Interstellar
aborigines. Squad. Platoon. Company. Battalion. Regiment. Hive
& swam. Colony. Legend. Laws. Ordinances. Statutes. Grid
coordinates. Maps. Longitude. Latitude. Property lines drawn
in unconsecrated dust. Sextant & compass. Ledger. Loyalty
oath. Therefore. Hereinbefore. Espirit de corps. Lock & load.
Bull's-eye. Maggie's drawers. Little Boy. Fat Man. Circle
in the eye. Bayonet. Skull & Bone. Them. Body count. Thou
& I. Us. Honey. Darling. Sweetheart, was I talking war in my sleep
again? Come closer. Yes, place your head against my chest.
The moon on a windowsill. I want to stitch up all your wounds
with kisses, but I also know that sometimes the seed is hurting
for red in the soil. Sometimes. Sometimes I hold you like Achilles'
shield, your mouth on mine, my trembling inside your heart & sex."
3.
"The blond poster girl
remember her name. Amy,
Like a captivity story
inside the brain - Indian braves
with a white woman.
refused any false honors
from the headlines & magazine covers.
the old Iraqi woman
as the doctors worked
& maybe a question
Why is our enemy
always surrendering an arm
a child for an eye?"
In other news, Yusef Komunkayaa - HAHA YES I SPELLED HIS NAME RIGHT FOR THE FIRST TIME IN WEEKS - rules my soul, especially with the advent of his most recent volume, Warhorses. Like his earlier Talking Dirty to the Gods - which dealt with divinity and spirituality - this themed collection deals with war, both Komunkayaa's own experiences in Vietnam and the more eternal archetypes, the outer war and the inner. I do not often say this about war poetry, but here is a collection that is utterly gorgeous, and it is raw, and primal. So many interesting thoughts here about violence, struggle, love, passion, fury, intensity, conflict - the list goes on and on. It's magnificent; I can't recommend it highly enough. It's got guts, ya'll. All of Warhorses is hot with blood.
1.
"Hand-to hand: the two hugged each other
into a naked tussle, one riding the other's back,
locked in a double embrace. One
forced the other to kiss the ground,
as he cursed & bit into an earlobe.
They shook beads of dew off the grass.
One worked his fingers into the black soil,
& could feel a wing easing out of his scapula.
That night, the lucky one who gripped
a stone like Mercury weighing the planet
in his palm, who knew windfall & downfall,
he fell against his sweetheart again
& again, as if holding that warrior in his arms,
& couldn't stop himself from rising off the earth."
2.
"Tribe. Clan. Valley & riverbank. Country. Continent. Interstellar
aborigines. Squad. Platoon. Company. Battalion. Regiment. Hive
& swam. Colony. Legend. Laws. Ordinances. Statutes. Grid
coordinates. Maps. Longitude. Latitude. Property lines drawn
in unconsecrated dust. Sextant & compass. Ledger. Loyalty
oath. Therefore. Hereinbefore. Espirit de corps. Lock & load.
Bull's-eye. Maggie's drawers. Little Boy. Fat Man. Circle
in the eye. Bayonet. Skull & Bone. Them. Body count. Thou
& I. Us. Honey. Darling. Sweetheart, was I talking war in my sleep
again? Come closer. Yes, place your head against my chest.
The moon on a windowsill. I want to stitch up all your wounds
with kisses, but I also know that sometimes the seed is hurting
for red in the soil. Sometimes. Sometimes I hold you like Achilles'
shield, your mouth on mine, my trembling inside your heart & sex."
3.
"The blond poster girl
of this war, I can't
remember her name. Amy,
Melissa, Jennifer, Jessica?
Like a captivity story
that circles back, corralled
inside the brain - Indian braves
riding ponies into the sunset
with a white woman.
But when this poster girl
refused any false honors
& medals, she disappeared
from the headlines & magazine covers.
She could still hear
the old Iraqi woman
whispering into her ear
as the doctors worked
in their bloodstained room,
& maybe a question
hummed inside her head:
Why is our enemy
always dark-skinned,
always surrendering an arm
& a leg for a tooth,
a child for an eye?"
