old white men
turn blind eyes
deaf ears
to the shrill cries
of women
of children
so much unlike
themselves
war
oh Gaza: how many times
a father clawing at rubble
looking for his daughter
his son
shouting
salma
then crying
saeed
to the concrete
didn’t I tell you
to look after your sister
the sobs then
the utter despair
of the men
touching his shoulder
oh Gaza
how many times
must a heart break
how many times
for Memorial Day: Northern Campaign by Li I
After Tien-shan’s snows, cold desert wind.
Flute sounds all about, the going hard.
Three hundred thousand men, among these rocks,
this once, as one, together turn: gaze on the moon.
translated by J.P. Seaton
on reading history
history
filled with war
raids on seacoasts
the siege of cities
thousands killed
enslaved
for the glory
of power hungry leaders
yesterday
today
tomorrow
human nature
they say
national security
they say
to ensure peace
they say
so easy
to say
to say
the state of things
kids
without a childhood
families
without a home
war
without any mercy
politicians
without a soul
on war and its aftermath on this Memorial Day weekend
the waste
in lives
in homeland
the displaced
forever adrift
mourn the dead
the crippled
and damn
the greed
of politicians
and corporations
that profit
from all the misery
sorrow
sorrow
at seeing
a nation
torn apart
its people
suffer
for the sake
of one man’s
ego
a Robert McNamara quote from the Errol Morris film The Fog of War
“I think the human race needs to think more about killing, about conflict. Is that what we want in this 21st Century?”
Robert McNamara was, among other positions, the Secretary of Defense under Presidents Kennedy & Johnson from 1960-67.
The Fog of War is a film of candid interviews with Robert McNamara and archival footage from various periods of 20th Century world history relating, but not exclusively, to war
9/9, On Tzu-chou City Wall by Tu Fu
This night of yellow-blossom wine
Finds me old, my hair white. Joys
I ponder lost to youth, I look out
Across distances. Seasons run together.
Brothers and sisters inhabit desolate
Songs. Heaven and Earth fill drunken eyes.
Warriors and spears, frontier passes. . . .
All day, thoughts have gone on and on.
translated by David Hinton
Leonard Durso 