War

[eclipse]

Yes death arrived with his lipstick, bullet dipped in blood. I came up with the flowers, my eyes opened with their petals. I hear Mother earth has gender confusion, sleeping the sun won't allow me into his bed as he sweats listening the earth's vexation, she is a host of wars.Previously seamless seasons are now a sword of discord slipped down a planet's throat. My sergeant will have moonlight in his hair for eternity-the last light I saw. Ghosts shiver when they walk through fire, rivers cry when war ends, the moon sighs when war begins.

[badger11]

 

My sergeant will have moonlight in his hair for eternity

 

great!

[David W. Parsley]

I have come back to this poem more than a few times. The images are compelling and fresh, despite the reappearance of obsessed cast members - ghosts, death, moon, eyes. They are like four dice in a game of poetry Yahtzee delivering a different tale each time they are thrown together. I'm not sure that is a bad thing, just something unusual.

 

My main struggle is with the poem's focus. It seems to have at least two themes that do not readily reconcile or even connect: gender identity and war (real War that sheds blood and empties landscapes with crying rivers). Maybe this is an issue only for me.

 

- Dave