A woman is helped across a river
on the Greek-Macedonian border as refugees try to reach Macedonia on a
route that bypasses a border fence: photo by Vadim Ghirda/Associated Press, 14 March 2016
recall carefree days in forest enjoying shade and game playing and being loved for music
"...recall carefree days..."
recall carefree days in forest enjoying shade and game playing and being loved for music
but now banished because of despair instead of playing enjoyable
music now like screech
owl to self days of contentment
and delight in music gone destroyed by sorrow
remember back to simpler time wandering forest personifying music of valley now
sadness overtaken
whole day so dark absent of light
feel all day is evening time perception of world now overwhelming
impossible to conquer mountain crying replaces music
filling vale
swan only sang
before died only wails greet morning and strong enough to climb
mountain no longer forest once loved now barren desert long time since experienced joy
respected place
in society ha
long time since other people in valley who are
happy asked stop disrupting lives with music
grown accustomed to hating both evening morning thoughts pursue like wild animals
wonder if
might not be better underneath mountain meaning dead and
buried
changed perception of world since sorrow overtook
now see mountain as valley
nature projecting onto own emotions past
and present
what once saw in mountain now see in self and now see mountain flattened dejected
just as see self in forest now hear nightingales owls
but music intermingled where once solace in morning now
feel of serene
comes in evening not peacefulness but damp evening air sick
evening
air finding filth in sunrise detect foul
odor scent flowers but perception world change
instead of finding beauty sight scent find ugliness and offense perception altered
music
morning horrific cries men being killed in
forest
would like to set fire to forest bid sun farewell every
night send curses to find music
envy mountain hate valley
hatred extends to every part of every day
night evening morning
curse for self as lower than valley no desire
to see evening cover
ears to block sound of music
woman creates
music perfect beauty outshines morning
grandeur surpasses mountain landscape
beauty
when left was cast down into darkness
mountain nothing nothing but valley
her music existence action
dictate movements of heavens
nature that surrounds will
as witness to sorrow...
A woman is helped across a river on the Greek-Macedonian border as refugees try to reach Macedonia on a route that bypasses a border fence: photo by Vadim Ghirda/Associated Press, 14 March 2016
5 comments:
Heart-rending, as ever. This world is wonderful and vile.
Your poem reminds me of Juliana Spahr, in a really good way.
I'm glad you give the smaller images for those of us with ancient computers!
Thank you very much, Michael.
The second photograph (whose composition resembles so much a painting) brings up images of another poem about a painting: "About suffering they were never wrong,
The old Masters: how well they understood
Its human position. . ." As does your poem, Tom.
Thanks very much Vassilis. Yes, I too have been thinking about that fellow taking his rest in the decimated Damascus street, Khaled Kassmou, our fellow human and septuagenarian, and the things he may have seen... possibly one of those sufferers of the war too old and frail or then again too wise to attempt the voyage into that other, different ruin called Europe. An old master at life, might one say? And also, ay caramba! reflecting today on the bitterly ironic news about what happened to those strugglers who made it across that roiling river in the incredibly dramatic and moving top shot: once across, they were "apprehended", as the officialese phrase goes, and made to go back... that is, all the way back, to Syria, whence they'd come.
No, I think it was not "apprehended", but "detained"... is that kinder?
One suspects perhaps not, no.
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