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Open Poetry #23
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brian madden
Member Elite
since 2000-05-06
Posts 4374
ireland

0 posted 2002-11-07 05:35 PM


The dust clouds swirl
the edge of charred fields,
as dead jungle heat fans of
crackle flames that dance
in hypnotic rhythms
to the pound of
Kony’s dictation in my heart,
as I thread over chasms
of tank tracks and rifled victims;
One, an Ugandan solider, eyes
a spiral of smoke, taking flight
as a dove, from my barrel
he stumbles below,
in a hail of ash and funeral confetti.  

An infant’s plea against
orphaning shells rings
in my ears, it’s cry
of mirrors as I lurch
at the edge of
a village that was once
my birth place, here in
a dark deeper than skin.
Now I pounce
A lion among the lambs,
upon the huts, inducting
newly orphaned children,
some my senior, howling
with mother’s blood
awash upon our flesh.









I used to make phantoms I could later chase images of all that could be desired then I got tired of counting all of these blessings"h.devoto magazine

[This message has been edited by brian madden (11-07-2002 07:26 PM).]

© Copyright 2002 brian madden - All Rights Reserved
S Arthur Grey
Senior Member
since 2001-03-19
Posts 719
woven by a poet's loom
1 posted 2002-11-07 06:01 PM


gruesome
how about "visitor"

Connel
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Senior Member
since 2002-11-04
Posts 736
Florida, USA
2 posted 2002-11-07 07:55 PM


Very nice poem.. Glad you shared.

I wish to become a great poet some day, but it will only come in time. Til then, I shall write my poems, and wait.

A. L. Becker
Member
since 2002-09-06
Posts 167
San Francisco, California
3 posted 2002-11-07 08:15 PM


cool!
Wind
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Elite
since 2002-10-12
Posts 2981

4 posted 2002-11-07 08:28 PM


Wow! now I see why you didn't give it a title! that poem is way to good to fit any title! I loved the imagery and the thoughts. I can tell you worked hard on this (i hope)
garysgirl
Deputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 5 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Laureate
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237
Florida, USA
5 posted 2002-11-07 09:03 PM


Goodness, I could see war all around me. You explained the scene very well. Was this inspired by participation? I hope not. I hope it was imagination.

Love makes the world go 'round (unkown)
with love and hugs from Ethel
                  

Janet Marie
Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554

6 posted 2002-11-07 11:36 PM


The dust clouds swirl
the edge of charred fields,
as dead jungle heat fans of
crackle flames
that dance
in hypnotic rhythms
to the pound of
Kony's dictation in my heart,
====================================
eyes a spiral of smoke, taking flight
as a dove, from my barrel
he stumbles below,
in a hail of ash and funeral confetti.
  

An infant's plea against
orphaning shells rings
in my ears,
it's cry
of mirrors as I lurch
at the edge of
a village that was once
my birth place, here in
a dark deeper than skin.

================================

the moth is here to peel the layers
awesome use of vivid imagery and personification here Bri...clever contrast of symbolism, metaphor and analogies to create the scene for us.
only YOUR muse could be so inspired while your being a couch potatoe
very cool me irish-tater-gator lol
mothyeveagatorme

No one has ever shown me how to see the world the way I see it now ...
and I never saw blue like that before.

~Tom Kimmel~

brian madden
Member Elite
since 2000-05-06
Posts 4374
ireland
7 posted 2002-11-09 06:27 PM


thanks to all who replied.

I used to make phantoms I could later chase images of all that could be desired then I got tired of counting all of these blessings"h.devoto magazine

Severn
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-17
Posts 7704

8 posted 2002-11-12 08:11 PM


Well, Bri.

Seems you've been a bit misunderstood here eh? This poem is not cool, nor is it nice. It is heart-rending about a situation that most people, including myself, can't even fathom. Child-soldiering in Uganda. Which of course is not a practice limited to Uganda...children returning to their home villages and killing their former friends, and family...children waging war for exploitative adults who destroy any notion of a childhood. Child who die holding guns.

Your poem is strong Brian, strong, dark and a necessary thing to read I think. I know it was necessary to write it for you.

Hugs

K

Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049
California
9 posted 2002-11-12 08:23 PM


brian

I read this earlier, and promised myself to come back to reply.  

This is stark and horror filled and so real it hurts to read.  It is a photograph in my mind, your words are that clear, clouded by agony and grief that I have trouble imagining in my gilted life.  Thank you for posting this.

Kethry
Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-29
Posts 9082
Victoria Australia
10 posted 2002-11-12 08:44 PM


I agree this is not nice, but it has powerful imagery and horror that sends chills up my spine. As for the title almost anything would do. Although personally I lean towards something simple such as "Return"
Kethry

Here in the midst of my lonely abyss, a single joy I find...your presence in my mind.  Unknown



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