MAP
#81
Theme:
Memorial Day
Hello,
Poets.
I'm
home again, still coming down off my D.C. high. Final night there, I
hit the first half of Riverdale Book Shop's standing room only
monthly read, got myself a copy of Spiraeas journal of literature and
art, then binged at Mango's and you want to talk about righteous? Ask
Patrick Washington of Generation 2000, who coincidentally went on to
win the slam at Cafe Myth.com (Denise Johnson took #2 place.) Yeah
yeah yeah I'm STILL talking about that grooviest of new D.C. venues,
graced last night with the slamtastic surprise feature Gayle Danley.
Anyone wanting to get on Cafe Myth.com mailing list, contact Nicki
Miller at SlamAgent_at_aol.com
Not
to sell the Austin poetry scene short, my first night home East Side
B&W Poets had its own standing room only read at Ebony Sun Java
House, featuring Valerie Bridgeman Davis, accompanied by Element, her
son with his own voice to be reckoned with. Valerie will soon be
visiting Cheryl Latif's Poetic Brew venue at Claire de Lune in San
Diego. For details, e mail Cheryl at clatif_at_concentric.net
II.
Featured Poetry
This
week's theme: Memorial Day
Theme
for Issue #82: Coffee Tribute: Happiness is just a thing called Joe.
Theme
for Issue #83: Second Generation: Poetry by the offspring of poets.
For
those of you not familiar with the U.S. observance called Memorial
Day: originally known as Decoration Day, it was established in 1868
to commemorate the dead from the Civil War. Over the years it came to
serve as a day to remember all U.S. men and women killed or missing
in action in all wars. I do not advocate war, on the contrary.
However, World War I Canadian Lieut.-Col. John McCrae's poem, "In
Flanders Field" has ranked among my faves for decades. This
week's featured poetry is dedicated not just to U.S. men and women
killed or MIA in war, but to all who hold high the torch.
Grateful
thanks to all who have contributed your poetry.
1.
Gene Hatfield is a Viet Nam vet. His poem "Mia" was first
brought to my attention by Sandra Vinson, Literary Editor for "The
Wall" website. The poem, which appears on
http://www.thewall-usa.com/ is included in the MAP with the poet's
permission. The title does not refer to "Missing In Action."
MIA
A
long time ago or maybe only yesterday,
I
met a girl, and she had beautiful black hair,
and
eyes to match.
At
first she looked at me with doubt,
because
I was a stranger in a land with little trust.
But
as time went on we grew closer, and closer...
Every
day she came to see me,
and
every day we talked.
We
talked of happy things, and things to come.
One
day I left on patrol, and when I returned
she
was gone.
Where
could she be I asked
and
no one seemed to know...
Later
I found out why. This precious person
was
but seven,
and
lived in a village in Viet Nam.
She
died of kindness, killed by VC
for
coming to me to talk...
I
will never forget you
Mia...
You
will always be in my thoughts and dreams...
Killed
by enemy fire
February
1969...
©
1999 Gene Hatfield
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2.
Sanjay C. Kuttan of Singapore does not celebrate Memorial Day, but
asked that I include the following poem for this week's theme:
Anniversary
of Silenced Echoes (June 4, 1989)
Honor
those interred
in
the red bricks of Tiananmen Square
Flesh,
bones and dreams
a
mason's cement for a new Nation.
Her
flag tainted with her children's blood.
Cherished
ones buried
deep
within many hearts
and
within, they remain;
a
tombstone of memories
an
inferno of tears
ablaze with despair
with
pain
with
anger...
Cremate
their ideals
in
the flame of your heart
to
foment, for a thousand years.
Candle
light vigils
exposing
tear stained cheeks
of
revetment;
standing
in the gnarled face
of
the smiling Dragon.
©
1999 Sanjay C. Kuttan
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
3.
Sometimes I solicit poems for this section, as with the next, by
Larry Jaffe. Oh, and congrats on the arrival of Larry's newest
grandson Giovanni, whose own webpage at
http://www.lgjaffe.com/giovanni.htm includes this poem.
Spiritual
epiphany
You
embraced your wings today
I
could feel the spiritual epiphany
As
you climbed goddess towers
And
ascended to your own form of heaven
I
could feel you grace god’s wings
With
your own spiritual touch
I
was happy for you my friend
And
felt your knowing glances
Of
affinity sprinkled with allure
Your
kindness speaks for itself
As
you climbed yet another staircase of transformation
I
wanted to write only of beauty today
So
tired of the human course of events
I
thought of you my friend
I
thought of you…
©
1999 lgjaffe
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
4.
Melissa McEver of Austin, Texas, sent me this poem for an earlier
theme, but got it in late. What the heck, I'll run it for you anyway,
Melissa.
John's
Eyes
Green-gold
eyes as seen through a soft-focus lens
Soft
in the world seen, like velvet-kissed harnessed light
From
a flash that gleamed the day flesh introduced your spirit
What
a bright light that must have been.
This
is what the world may see, but there is more.
Green-gold
softness cannot hide the paralysis
That
harnesses your light, the restraint of your face
To
hold the flashes in.
The
close eye notices.
Because
in the light-whiteness of your insides,
Black,
piercing, flashing, bruising holes
Their
perfect memory burrows through your skin.
And
you must hold yourself against their punctures.
Brace
yourself against any opening, to light, to shadow.
The
green-gold gleam is a one-way mirror
Trapping
most true whiteness behind.
Well
you learned to paralyze yourself--there was no other way.
But
sparks of light still escape in a soft moment,
And
I meet your eyes from across a holy war
And
see stars.
©
1999 Melissa McEver