Monday, December 17, 2012

"Echoes of Beslan" (poem)



It’s been eight years.  Eight years since the massacre of hundreds of hostages, mostly children, trapped in a school building in the town of Beslan. 
Eight years ago the whole world knew that name.  Does the world still remember Beslan?  Will the world remember Newtown eight years from now? 


ECHOES OF BESLAN 

The Earth is shaken,
Images of horror,
The senseless carnage
Dominate the screen,
Death casts a shadow
On the Holy Season,
Mankind is one,
One heart,
One soul,
One pain,
That time will never dull…
But time is singing
Its ancient lullaby, 
And we forget.

How eagerly selective,
How blissfully short-lived
Our memory is.
Succumbing to the steady hum of years,
We let the past lie dormant,
Till pure evil
Attacks once more,
And its distorted features
Surprise us
With a sense of recognition,
And angels weep again,
And we recall.




Live for the Love of it,
The Happy Amateur

I've posted this poem at  http://dversepoets.com/2012/12/18/open-link-night-week-74/

12 comments:

  1. We do recall when the angels weep. Because we forget, we repeat the same madness over and over again--

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    1. People tend to forget unless they force themselves to remember. Some things have to be remembered.
      Thank you, Audrey.

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  2. ugh...you ask hard questions and confront hard realities as well...how quickly we forget the feeling of the moment and we have to ask ourselves if we are at all better off...

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    1. I first wrote a poem in an attempt to find some comfort in words ("When darkness is heavy".)
      This one is not comforting, but I had to write it.
      Thank you for visiting, Brian.

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  3. yes, we all too often forget, until the next time...beautifully done.

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  4. ...a thought provoking piece... nice...

    smiles...

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  5. And we recall... Sadly.

    http://www.kimnelsonwrites.com/2012/12/17/moses-like/

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    Replies
    1. Yes. Sometimes we realize we've traveled this road before. (Just read your poem.)
      Thank you, Kim.

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  6. Well said -- the cyclic forgetfulness and surprise. Your last line: "Live for the love of it." is a bit vague. What is the "it"? Forgetfulness, Evil, Angels, Love ....?

    I really enjoyed this poem -- even with that vagueness.

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    Replies
    1. Live for the Love of it,
      The Happy Amateur

      is how I sign all of my posts. I can see now that it was too close to the poem, and the font was of the same size, so it was indeed confusing. Thank you, Sabio, for drawing attention to that, I've made a couple of changes, I believe it looks better now.
      And thank you very much for the comment.

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