Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Into the Abyss

Marked Words


if only my father were here.

if my own heart weren't ready
to burn up burn down,
we could discuss the creativity
of protest,

but i stall
correcting my own ignitions:
over-over-over.
then i can't get
over it
because i can't
count
in units of
death.

i don't even know
how many. i don't
know
how to start. back
at thirteen colonies?
at forty-one shots?
at three thousand folks
in offices? at
twenty-year-olds
without college degrees, without
good salaries, joining
the military?
at the thousands whom the kids kill
dropping some bombs?
at my mom's mom?

she had tumors
on her brain,
made her think she saw
buildings
moving.
she'd say, 'mark my words,
the building moved.'
maybe she was
prophetic. no, she was just
dying, but we are all
just dying.

mark my words (i try
to hear words from before
i was born). i imagine her
last-minute-prophecies were prayers
now striking my eardrum
(boom boom boom,
the buildings are moving)
close my eyes -- close yours
(boom boom boom - mark my words).

which is your building
(you are a building)?
where are you moving
(boom boom boom)?

whose words are we marking with
these tears
from before we are born,
with gravity and inertia on their side?
they start from hot springs of betrayal, fall
out of the eyes of prophetic grandmothers
who call out for gods or validation,
down their cheeks into the eyes of their children,
and theirs and theirs, down
and down until they leave
just dry tracks on the chins of us.
us. whose tears
are these tonight
that will not dry?



This by Kathryn Baxter writing for "Poets Against War".

20 comments:

SusieQ said...

I am not good at poetry. I am not good at understanding it. But one thing that comes out of this poem for me is chaos.

jim said...

'...dry tracks....whose tears are these tonight that will not dry?'

Yes that is the case, this world gives much to cry for, I would that we would all get up for a better place, and sooner rather than later by all means!

Keep the loving faith Goatman, your blog is a gem!

Proxima said...

Wow, this is a really beautiful poem. I like it a lot and I'm typically not into poetry unless it's Thomas Dylan.

Did you make the picture? It is really cool, like traveling through a part of the body, like blood or muscle tissue.

I hope that didn't gross anyone out, I think the human body is fascinating with all its bits and pieces striving to keep us alive. They bits can't always be perfect and their rythem is finite. I don't think we are though, our spirits, I mean.

-P

Janice Thomson said...

Very thought-provoking Goatman and an excellent choice to post. The picture suits the tone of the words perfectly. Is it a painting of yours?

Mother of Invention said...

Very apt. I can get inside her whole thought process.

Sophia said...

Very moving poem. It flowed so smoothly and had a perfect rhythm. It speaks to me about the disappointment in the state of the world, which is given to blood-letting in the form of bombs and gunshots, and about the imperfection of human life.

The fractal is stunning, very three-dimensional. It almost seems to jump out of the screen.

Annie Wicking and Loman Austen said...

Both are amazing choice words and picture.

Thank you, Goatman, thank you

Annie

Mother of Invention said...

Upon a second reading, I guess I like it because her stream-of-consciousness thoughts she puts down actually link and make sense to me...I can see how she jumped from one to another. I do a lot of this type of free verse too.

*ItkUpiLLi* said...

Oh I like both...poem and picture...takes sometime for me to understand...:)

antonior said...

You have a splendid place here. I'm painter, photographer and graphic designer. I do fractals myself and I enjoyed what I´ve seen here. Fine pictures and interesting and emotional reading.
I'll be back

d. chedwick bryant said...

the poem is great--the visual you posted was cool to look at.

iamnasra said...

Thanks for posting the poem aand sharing it with us...Im still dizzy with all around me ...So it quick greetings from me

Marion said...

Love the photo...there's much to see in it, I got quite lost.

Beautiful poem, it left me feeling sad.

Oliviah said...

Wow, that was amazing. Loved the last part especially:

"whose words are we marking with
these tears
from before we are born,
with gravity and inertia on their side?
they start from hot springs of betrayal, fall
out of the eyes of prophetic grandmothers
who call out for gods or validation,
down their cheeks into the eyes of their children,
and theirs and theirs, down
and down until they leave
just dry tracks on the chins of us.
us. whose tears
are these tonight
that will not dry?"

tsduff said...

Amazing lyrics and stunning picture. The words reminded me of this song by the Wallflowers.

Princess Banter said...

That's a magnificent poem... I liked the picture that goes with it. The splashes of color works :)

LJ said...

That is fantastic, Goatman. Fantastic.

Katie McKenna said...

Very moving..... and thought provoking.

Fabulous picture!

Zareba said...

This is my first visit to your blog and I find it quite intriguing. I will be back.

...Z

Princess Haiku said...

This touches my heart.

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