The standoff is startling
pale-faced, clean-shaven
as patient as snow
on the boot of Ukraine
Meanwhile, bones grow in babies
floors dirty themselves
muttered grumbles repeat
between broomstick and brain
Men are ranged in steep banks
as though cliffs ploughing on
to raise slow-cresting mountains
against foreign terrain
But at home, the plates sit
crusted with rice and cheese
the washing needs taking in
safely out of the rain
Whispered terrors of war
thread through emails and towns
ignite testosterone
fan a wildfire chain
But the people still pee
move their bowels most days
dead leaves, soap and hair
still encumber good drains
That momentous decision
of conflict or peace
raises all of our stakes
queries what is humane
Yet food and clean water
still need to be sought
foraged, stolen or bought
hunted, fished, caught and slain
Ambulances are readied
tanks and great submarines
great causes flush hot
in the president’s vein
While his mistress is ironing
silk slips that he gave,
asks the housewife next-door
what works best on wine stains
Rallied shouts float above roof-
tops: “Fight for your rights!”
though the war’s still a theory,
immanent the campaign
Housewives beat their rugs
water aubergine plants
beetles creep inside bottles
herds of goats block the lane
The diplomats clinch it:
troops retire to barracks
blank and brotherless for bread
and soup to soften pride’s pain
Cotton sheets heave and snap
tangled children’s hair is brushed
trumpets polished, glasses too
doors opened and closed
cats, dogs, rabbits fed
compost bins evacuated
trees and roses are still pruned
bowls of oranges arranged
the Names of God mentioned as stars
set into violet dawns
planets drift the way they always do
deaf to all of mankind’s bluffs
while here on earth the grass grows green
and green it will remain
I like the synchronicity of it, the combination of the micro and macro, all as part of a whole moment, each potentially as significant as the other . . . Did you deliberately juxtapose bread and pain 🙂 ?
I hadn’t actually! I could have mentioned the soup pan too for a Spanish nuance. Or that as macho soldiers, they ate pain for breakfast. With jam.
Very good point. So true.
And not only in Ukraine… My heart is with all the peaceful hard working people caught up in such turmoils while I’m enjoying ‘green grass’ in a safe place http://otrazhenie.wordpress.com/2014/03/06/a-prayer-for-ukraine/
Absolutely, Otrazhenie…I shudder to think that could be any of us. Syria, DRC, the Malaysian airline…there but for the Grace of God go we!
😦
Medina, that is a truly powerful poem. Your images are as clear as can be, close to the heart, no disambiguation. Thank you and a deep bow from a Ukrainian.
Thankyou so much Jouena! I only hope and pray that diplomacy does dissolve the stand-off…the idea of war in Europe again is too much to bear. Here in Spain our thoughts are with Ukraine…xxx
Reblogged this on Home that We Built and commented:
On Ukraine, its War and Peace.
You write so so well. Powerful poignant piece