This blood-dripping
saddle says to me
that my lord
(that old bastard)
will possibly not
be cantering, cantering
home for tea
on the spreading green swards
beneath a monkey-puzzle tree
because, in fact,
he's beastly dead.
He was quite a silly
codger, we all agree
but it is not
such a very bad thing
to die in senseless battle
for the sake of family.
It's a step above
a stroke on the privy.
Well, now,
he's dead.
Fancy that.
We shall
have to look
to the future
in which certain
things will happen
not altogether good
things, but we are
well used to that
more or less
thanks to our vile temper
among a dwindling
number of nervous friends
and the usual plague
of sycophants.
War is not so bad
not really
you can pick up
a few things
here and there
just so long
as you don't
get maimed
or killed
but but but
there is the danger
as ever and always
that the whole
wobbly edifice
haphazardly built
by our roaring forefathers
will crumble and fall
down
down
down.
You have to
go your own way
you have to
wing it, baby
leaving others
the civilians
the refugees
the starving survivors
the children
to pick up the pieces
or fall down dead.
You could vote
if you had elections
you could walk
if you had legs
you could salute
if you had arms
you could laugh
if your mouth
wasn't ripped
apart and covered
with bandages.
Too bad about you.
Being young
helps, that's
what it's all about
really, not thinking
when we drag out
another screaming
prisoner. Kill em all
is what I say, guilty
and innocent alike.
After all, they are
not our people
and a bit smelly
besides. I think
it's the food, myself
that muck they eat.
Democracy is a tough job.
Spreading freedom
is not that easy.
It's not simple like spreading manure.
That's for sure.
You sit at home, and
I envy you at times
I want to go to the Mall
I want to go to the movies
I want to drink in the smell
of a blonde-haired girl
or a brown-haired girl
or any sweet-smelling girl at all
while I clean and oil
my M-16, my feminine beauty
my waking and sleeping
constant companion
and I know that you
can't do what I can do
I can kill people.
When I go home
I can work in the store
stacking shelves
but I think I might
go to college instead.
I think I'd like
to become a lawyer.
noli tangere
-
Gypsy Cake
- Posts: 45
- Joined: Mon Apr 02, 2007 4:17 pm
- Location: Essex, UK
- Contact:
A really good story. You managed to hold my attention well through such a long poem.
One thing i would say about long poems in general is they have a habit of losing focus on the really impressive lines.
eg/
"thanks to our vile temper
among a dwindling
number of nervous friends"
I completely forgot this line til i looked through again. Though perhaps that gives the poem longevity. Look forward to more work.
,,,Dec
One thing i would say about long poems in general is they have a habit of losing focus on the really impressive lines.
eg/
"thanks to our vile temper
among a dwindling
number of nervous friends"
I completely forgot this line til i looked through again. Though perhaps that gives the poem longevity. Look forward to more work.
,,,Dec
-
oranggunung
- Preponderant Poster
- Posts: 1393
- Joined: Tue Apr 10, 2007 9:15 pm
- Location: Dublin, Ireland
I'm intrigued by the title of the poem.
Touch-me-not is the common name of the plant Impatiens noli-tangere. Is that the reference you were using?
If so, is the narrator giving this instruction or suggesting that they are untouched by the events around them?
The latter part of the poem clearly refers to modern times (M-16), yet the first stanza appears to be an earlier reference. Is the narrator an eternal (non-PC) soldier?
I see the reference to the crucifiction and some sort of respect for the sacrifice, but no real faith in the narrator. Is the last line a way of the narrator suggesting that they lack compassion too?
The punctuation is a little haphazard (commas and apostrophes omitted, with potential for semi-colons). I wondered, at first, if that might have been a stylistic approach, but noticed attention to detail in other places.
The rhyme scheme in the early part of the poem (intentional or not) was a little distracting for me. Was that mischievousness?
I enjoyed reading the poem, and probably will again. I'm not very experienced at using free verse, and so am unsure about its criticism. I didn't understand the intermittent use of enjambment in some places and the abandonment of sentence structure in others.
This is, presumably, a stream of consciousness from the narrator, but it takes the reader on something of a bumpy ride.
Touch-me-not is the common name of the plant Impatiens noli-tangere. Is that the reference you were using?
If so, is the narrator giving this instruction or suggesting that they are untouched by the events around them?
The latter part of the poem clearly refers to modern times (M-16), yet the first stanza appears to be an earlier reference. Is the narrator an eternal (non-PC) soldier?
I see the reference to the crucifiction and some sort of respect for the sacrifice, but no real faith in the narrator. Is the last line a way of the narrator suggesting that they lack compassion too?
The punctuation is a little haphazard (commas and apostrophes omitted, with potential for semi-colons). I wondered, at first, if that might have been a stylistic approach, but noticed attention to detail in other places.
The rhyme scheme in the early part of the poem (intentional or not) was a little distracting for me. Was that mischievousness?
I enjoyed reading the poem, and probably will again. I'm not very experienced at using free verse, and so am unsure about its criticism. I didn't understand the intermittent use of enjambment in some places and the abandonment of sentence structure in others.
This is, presumably, a stream of consciousness from the narrator, but it takes the reader on something of a bumpy ride.
Thanks, GC and oranggunung, for your comments.
I admit this is a rather 'bumpy ride' and oranggunung raises a number of legitimate points -- quite politely, I might add!
The poem is intended as a meditation or comment on the moral displacement that often occurs in war when ordinary norms of behaviour are set aside (people doing things they wouldn't dream of doing in peacetime). There is a sort of licensed sadism involved which is connived at or at least winked at by the authorities, in spite of public protestations to the contrary, and this has a confusing effect on inexperienced soldiers, particularly the young, and most soldiers are quite young. Hence the title, which refers to mental callousness as well as a youthful belief in one's own personal sense of immortality no matter what awful things happen to others. The poem is not tied to any particular period and glides casually (perhaps annoyingly) from an initial medieval feel to a modern setting. In this sense the narrator is a sort of cross-generational generic soldier, an eternal type if not an eternal individual.
The punctuation is essentially internal with few commas or semi-colons at the end of lines unless I wanted the reader to pause or the total absence of punctuation would cause more confusion than necessary. In a sense it is arbitrary as is the hint of a rhyming scheme but that was allowed (rather than intended) since it adds to the general feeling of displacement and uncertainty in trying to ascertain the 'rules' in operation. I suppose that could be called 'mischievousness' although underhanded and sly are words that might also come to mind. I didn't actually set out to do this but noticed it was happening and let it stand -- more moral ambivalence, if you like.
There was no intended reference to the crucifixion.
At the close of the poem the narrator contemplates returning to a life in peacetime, possibly a dead-end job (stacking shelves) but then, having set aside laws (mistreatment of prisoners/ "I can kill people") he blithely considers becoming a lawyer.
Explaining a poem is probably not a very good idea (if it was any good in the first place, it wouldn't need explanation) but the above is more or less what was going on as I was writing this thing.
Cheers,
Brendan
I admit this is a rather 'bumpy ride' and oranggunung raises a number of legitimate points -- quite politely, I might add!
The poem is intended as a meditation or comment on the moral displacement that often occurs in war when ordinary norms of behaviour are set aside (people doing things they wouldn't dream of doing in peacetime). There is a sort of licensed sadism involved which is connived at or at least winked at by the authorities, in spite of public protestations to the contrary, and this has a confusing effect on inexperienced soldiers, particularly the young, and most soldiers are quite young. Hence the title, which refers to mental callousness as well as a youthful belief in one's own personal sense of immortality no matter what awful things happen to others. The poem is not tied to any particular period and glides casually (perhaps annoyingly) from an initial medieval feel to a modern setting. In this sense the narrator is a sort of cross-generational generic soldier, an eternal type if not an eternal individual.
The punctuation is essentially internal with few commas or semi-colons at the end of lines unless I wanted the reader to pause or the total absence of punctuation would cause more confusion than necessary. In a sense it is arbitrary as is the hint of a rhyming scheme but that was allowed (rather than intended) since it adds to the general feeling of displacement and uncertainty in trying to ascertain the 'rules' in operation. I suppose that could be called 'mischievousness' although underhanded and sly are words that might also come to mind. I didn't actually set out to do this but noticed it was happening and let it stand -- more moral ambivalence, if you like.
There was no intended reference to the crucifixion.
At the close of the poem the narrator contemplates returning to a life in peacetime, possibly a dead-end job (stacking shelves) but then, having set aside laws (mistreatment of prisoners/ "I can kill people") he blithely considers becoming a lawyer.
Explaining a poem is probably not a very good idea (if it was any good in the first place, it wouldn't need explanation) but the above is more or less what was going on as I was writing this thing.
Cheers,
Brendan
Hi Brendan,
A lengthy poem that indeed held my attention as well. Very good perspective on the youth, diillusionment and anger of war. For me, I think of the present disastrous war in Iraq.
Democracy is a tough job. Spreading freedom is not that easy. This is very true. George W, "my president", still is deploying troops and stretching them to their utmost limit. Delusional at best, as he still believes we are fighting for "freedom"! There is no possible victory ahead in Iraq.
Also, liked your perspective on the youth in war. Without a sense of mortality and some maybe even "brainwashed" the soldiers do not think twice about killing anybody. I do realize that soldiers need to be trained to kill,and must do everything to survive. And I do respect and have compassion for them. However, I cannot help but think of tragic incidents like "Abu Ghraib". The 13th stanza of yours' brings it to mind. Very true! Killing innocent or guilty...not caring because they are foreign and of a different culture, "smelly" and eating "muck".
You captured quite a lot in this poem. I could write more, but gotta run! Great job.
heidi
A lengthy poem that indeed held my attention as well. Very good perspective on the youth, diillusionment and anger of war. For me, I think of the present disastrous war in Iraq.
Democracy is a tough job. Spreading freedom is not that easy. This is very true. George W, "my president", still is deploying troops and stretching them to their utmost limit. Delusional at best, as he still believes we are fighting for "freedom"! There is no possible victory ahead in Iraq.
Also, liked your perspective on the youth in war. Without a sense of mortality and some maybe even "brainwashed" the soldiers do not think twice about killing anybody. I do realize that soldiers need to be trained to kill,and must do everything to survive. And I do respect and have compassion for them. However, I cannot help but think of tragic incidents like "Abu Ghraib". The 13th stanza of yours' brings it to mind. Very true! Killing innocent or guilty...not caring because they are foreign and of a different culture, "smelly" and eating "muck".
You captured quite a lot in this poem. I could write more, but gotta run! Great job.
heidi
Bren, I loved it as far as down / down / down. It seemed to change tone there - less fun, more agitprop.
The first verse reminded me of "Twa Corbies" - does this work? http://www.chivalry.com/cantaria/lyrics ... biesl.html
The italicised refrain sounded like something I ought to know, but it seems to be google-proof (apart from in its current incarnation), so I suppose congratulations are due.
"Beastly dead" - very good - Jams the Man. Or stately plump Buck Mulligan.
Excellent, really - right up to down / down / down. It canters wonderfully well as far as there.
Cheers
David
P.S. Reading - and really enjoying - Niall Quinn's autobiography at the moment. An Irishman in Japan - in 2002, anyway. Were you there?
The first verse reminded me of "Twa Corbies" - does this work? http://www.chivalry.com/cantaria/lyrics ... biesl.html
The italicised refrain sounded like something I ought to know, but it seems to be google-proof (apart from in its current incarnation), so I suppose congratulations are due.
"Beastly dead" - very good - Jams the Man. Or stately plump Buck Mulligan.
Excellent, really - right up to down / down / down. It canters wonderfully well as far as there.
Cheers
David
P.S. Reading - and really enjoying - Niall Quinn's autobiography at the moment. An Irishman in Japan - in 2002, anyway. Were you there?
David,
Fair dos. This is what happens when a poem gets a bit long. It's hard to sustain things, like three fat men on a mattress when some of the supporting boards have been lifted.
I suppose a bit of the anger showed towards the end. That said, I have a few excoriating pieces to hand which makes this piece look like a stroll in the park. Wisely, I keep them hidden. So far. I can hardly believe what these people have managed to do to us over the last six/seven years (Messrs. Bush & Blair) and it looks as though it will go on for some time to come. Better not to say too much. I feel we have been forced into a situation that was never necessary to begin with and it seems likely that we can probably not find our way out of it again, not anytime soon. Starting a war is easy.
Don't let's get started ........!!
Yess!! I was in Japan for the World Cup 2002 and thanks to Irish friends who came over was able to cop a ticket to all three qualifying matches had I wanted. I was hard at work (!!) so told my school I'd choose one of the three and would take two days off to attend it. Two days, because I knew I'd be in no fit state on the following morning, win or lose. Thinking ahead. They grinned rather queasily and let me go. It was Ireland v Germany that I wanted to see and you can read what happened here:
http://dublinerinjapan.blogspot.com/200 ... -2002.html
I had never seem so many Irish in Japan. I'll probably never see so many again. That whole summer of the tournament was totally brilliant; it was also delusional, a total aberration. Niall Quinn came on in the Second Half and I can still remember how tall and fierce and determined he was. He helped to set up RK's wonder goal that sent us all home happy. I can see it all now. I was there!! Strange how emotional highs tend to linger.
All right, all right
Bren
Fair dos. This is what happens when a poem gets a bit long. It's hard to sustain things, like three fat men on a mattress when some of the supporting boards have been lifted.
I suppose a bit of the anger showed towards the end. That said, I have a few excoriating pieces to hand which makes this piece look like a stroll in the park. Wisely, I keep them hidden. So far. I can hardly believe what these people have managed to do to us over the last six/seven years (Messrs. Bush & Blair) and it looks as though it will go on for some time to come. Better not to say too much. I feel we have been forced into a situation that was never necessary to begin with and it seems likely that we can probably not find our way out of it again, not anytime soon. Starting a war is easy.
Don't let's get started ........!!
Yess!! I was in Japan for the World Cup 2002 and thanks to Irish friends who came over was able to cop a ticket to all three qualifying matches had I wanted. I was hard at work (!!) so told my school I'd choose one of the three and would take two days off to attend it. Two days, because I knew I'd be in no fit state on the following morning, win or lose. Thinking ahead. They grinned rather queasily and let me go. It was Ireland v Germany that I wanted to see and you can read what happened here:
http://dublinerinjapan.blogspot.com/200 ... -2002.html
I had never seem so many Irish in Japan. I'll probably never see so many again. That whole summer of the tournament was totally brilliant; it was also delusional, a total aberration. Niall Quinn came on in the Second Half and I can still remember how tall and fierce and determined he was. He helped to set up RK's wonder goal that sent us all home happy. I can see it all now. I was there!! Strange how emotional highs tend to linger.
All right, all right
Bren