image borrowed from overlord44.free.fr
Resistance
“Courage is resistance to fear, not the
absence of fear.”--Mark Twain
I was awakened by cats fighting
outside my wi(n)dow, as whirling shreds
of my last dream sparkling in the near
darkness like dwarf ersatz fireworks
were oddly connected images with me
in a war zone somewhere, a member
of a rag-tag band of resisters, poorly armed
without a plan other than a gnawing need
to survive low on ammunition--several comrades
badly wounded, wrapped in dirty bloody rags
surrounded by real troops in helmets & kevlar
with machine guns, tanks & ordinance, but
somehow just being a part of a fight for freedom
with defiance, pride & zeal on every face swelled
my chest with tremendous resolve because sometimes
my chest with tremendous resolve because sometimes
we just need to pick a side & follow our heart
no matter what the final outcome because
subjugation & surrender have never been sign
posts within the vastness of my dreamscape.
When all seems to be
hopeless, our spirit resists
because it just must.
Glenn Buttkus
Posted over on dVerse Poets Pub MTB
where we are called to utilize Enjambment.
15 comments:
So nice to have you back Glenn.. I find your dreanscape rag-tag band to be something that would be very close to how we sometimes feel in our day-to-day struggle to find a path among the shining helmets of the windmilled men surrounding us... great take with sentences rolling across lines like rutted tracks across a soggy battlefield.
First of all, you create a very true to life picture of the situation.
Loved this line: "subjugation & surrender have never been sign posts within the vastness of my dreamscape".
It's good to read your written word again.
-HA
Yes, welcome back, Glenn! You WERE missed. This is really strong writing, Glenn. Yes, sometime we just need to pick a side and follow our heart..... Sometime this is the only way! But, on another note, I am glad I don't dream about war......
Perhaps this is how wars start, with rag-tag resisters taking up a cause on the streets and before you know it, full armored "real troops" show up to blast our mouths shut! What a dream...
Love that Mark Twain quote.
I'm glad to see you back too, Glenn.
you are a super story teller. Great haibun.
This flows beautifully Glenn. Your line breaks add so much to the solemn nature of the piece. Thank you so much for writing to the prompt!
"cats fighting outside my wi[n]dow" ... Great typo. This makes the speaker a ghost, watching cats fight over his widow, the cats of course being men who want to take your place. ;)
In all seriousness, this poem is excellent. I especially like these sections:
"sparkling in the near
darkness like dwarf ersatz"
"a gnawing need
to survive low on ammunition"
"sometimes
we just need to pick a side & follow our heart"
"subjugation & surrender have never been sign
posts within the vastness of my dreamscape"
Cat of
War
And
Cat of
Peace
Feral
boys who fight and
never hug.. become
cats of
threat and
war.. cats
who play
and snuggle
tight
become
cats of
peace
and love..
cats love
territory
and cats
can Love..
Humans
even more..
Moby will Love
to snuggle with
Yellowboy but
Yellowboy only
fights back with bites
and claws of brutal survival
as in ALL stuff humans and pets
Love
IS SIMpLE
F
iN
ANsWER..;)
I must say you've made an outstanding comeback :D love the poem!!
This part really spoke to me:
we just need to pick a side & follow our heart
no matter what the final outcome
So good to read you again Glenn ~ Hope you are well ~
Again, good to see you. In this form, enjambment makes sense. Choose a side....such an amazing thought in this. And it brings to mind my favorite "we few, we happy few...". Excellent work.
Looks like you were quoting from the Bhagavad Gita when you said,
"sometimes
we just need to pick a side & follow our heart
no matter what the final outcome"
Krishna would have proud of you, as you helped destroy your own family.
Just picking sides when it comes to machine guns and such, may be the human fate indeed. And we almost always pick the side we were raised on. And thus it goes on, and on, and on. With each side singing praise of their dead soldiers.
A first time encounter with your poetry - cannot pick a favourite line as the whole really is more than the sum of the parts. Strong words spoken in a strong voice though I loved the pauses that peppered your narration. No pasan
Wonderful poetry!
yes. because it must. ~
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