Saturday, February 12, 2011

..Two Poems..

Reading the first lines of this poem I felt the surreality of what was being witnessed.  Standing from afar looking onto something not so clear. The author depicts this poetic first-hand account to his wife, of the harsh nature and realities of war with an intense rawness.  The beginning imagery really made me feel the disconnectedness one must be able to mentally obtain in order to cope with that sort of reality. And then the author snaps to it. In these next lines Bruce Weigl really captures the gravity of the moment he is in:                       But still the branches are wire
                      And thunder is the pounding mortar,
                      Still I close my eyes and see the girl
                      Running from her village, napalm
                      Stuck to her dress like jelly,
                      Her hands reaching for the no one
                      Who waits in waves of heat before her.  (21-27)
This poem struck something in me, the awfulness of it, the harsh reality that it speaks.  The story of a man in war, seeing the actuality of what is happening.

In the first lines Powers writes:
      I tell her I love her like not killing
      Or ten minutes of sleep (1-2)
And then you read on and realize how deep those words are. I am sure besides his own life, these are the next most important things to his current existence.  He goes on to write of how the letter will smell of his world of war….and I wonder if that is how it is when people receive letters written from the battlefield…do they really stink of “bolt oil” and “burned powder”?
 Though this poem is relatively short, the author did a good job in conveying the moment. I definitely again sense a disconnectedness, one that you would expect from someone in that situation.
The first two lines are what I was really pulled towards, how casual they almost seem but how truly sweet they are.  I also really enjoyed his ending, putting in the “offhand” thoughts of Pvt. Bartle:
      That war is just us
      Making little pieces of metal
      Pass through each other. (10-12)



Song of Napalm ref:  http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=171470
Letter Composed During a Lull in the Fighting ref:
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=182821

photo ref:  http://d.yimg.com/gg/u/8308311a901c0be1da21ef95a333ee6144b20db8.jpeg

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