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| ---copyright DAVE PHILLIPSDAVE PHILLIPS Blood River* Just awhile ago, It seems it was yesterday, They called us. Called us to say, You have the honorable duty! What did we know? It seems it was yesterday, When our innocence lived, then died. They called us to say, You must go for your country now! Today, a memory of that time, Yesterday, It seems it was. They made a call to make a Blood River. a Blood River running to the sea. Some of us would never come back, Yesterday, it seems it was. Some of us died and some bled, And some of us sailed home on a River of Blood. *River of Blood... . I remember Vietnam, I didn't fight in it but I lost a lot of friends there. I am just writing this poem to reflect what we felt back in the 60's and 70's and how that parallels to the Iraq/Afganistan war. I wrote this in 2003/2004 as I saw our overseas policy take some wrong turns. We have so many men and women over there, I am not sure the government of the United States has made a compelling stance to justify our sons and daughters dying fighting an enemy that mirrors the Viet Cong. There is some similarity in the portrayal of a war of attrition that the Viet Cong and the Taliban have fed to the news media. You could say the present war is also a river of oil, i.e. flowing to us with our dead children in it. -DAVE PHILLIPS JH: I had thought this poem suggessted the river of Catholic refugees streaming out of the newly created Republic of North Vietnam, and it could have easily represented the dead floating in such numbers that the bodies stretched from one bank of the Mekong to the other. Equally, the notion of 'sailing home' suggests the ignominious withdrawal from Saigon and the images of 'boat people' refugees leaving the recently unified Vietnam. I think all refugees are equally a 'River of Blood'. Our most recent candidate might be the people of Darfur and of Southern Sudan who are oppressed and often enslaved by their Moslem masters in Khartoum. Ultimately, there is a River of Blood in each of us. If enough of us change its course, perhaps world will stop its red flow. REPAIR: Concourse or confluence of people at or in a place; resort, frequent or habitual going; making one's way; to arrive; to dwell; to heal, to cure, to recover; to renew; (AND!) to fix to original condition. Oxford English Dictionary |
| "Poetry endangers the established order in the soul." |
| poetryREpairs v08.03:032 |
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| STEPHEN WOESSNER ---copyright STEPHEN WOESSNER poetryREpairs.com welcomes essays on any topic related to poetry.. |
| "Repair Your Mind...Read More Poetry!" |
| poetryrePAIRs v07.03:032 |
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| ELISHA PORAT The Fragrance of Mignonette ---copyright ELISHA PORAT --- PORAT's 'original' poem (translated from the Hebrew by Vivian Eden, 1999) and its translation into Italian (traduzione : Rachele Amir, 1999.) were previusly published on poetryREpairs 01.01:011 'all the fine arts are species of poetry' |
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