Corkscrewing, a wisp of pale smoke rises into the air;
hold me,
if one day I happen to pass through the colonnades of your mind—
war wears disquiet like a favorite black dress,
the shade of her lips urging sea grasses bend double
in silence.
Imagine a shore that bears unrest,
a child’s laugh without mirth and humor;
one by one
the soldiers have laid their lives, embraced the gravel,
the unspoken,
the very aspects of dwelling and death—
I get tired of people trying to tell me what ache is, waves white
crashing to and fro,
I won’t describe what it feels like only that
a betrothed hasn’t slept a wink for many nights; whispers, erupting
inside the soft cartilage structure of ear.
If, at any moment in time you too can relate,
meet me,
the moth grey sky recounts the roseate hue of sand; the roseate hue
of sand.
Do we ever forget?
Photo credits: “Bending Seagrasses,” by Laurel Daniel, oil 40×30
Bjorn hosts at dVerse and discusses the long history of war
poetry that dates back to Homer. Come join us! 💝
Posted for Poetics: War Poetry @ dVerse Poets Pub
Oh, you really capture the memories of war… even on the most beautiful shores in the world you can be sure that somewhere in the sand a soldier has bled.
Thank you so much, Bjorn 🙂 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
(and thank you for the glorious prompt)
Reading your poem is like looking at old black and white pictures of the Second World War, Sanaa. I love the lines ‘war wears disquiet like a favorite black dress’ and ‘I get tired of people trying to tell me what ache is, waves white / crashing to and fro’. It’s painful to think how many people died or were washed up on the beaches.
Thank you so much, my dearest Kim 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
This line stands out for me, “I get tired of people trying to tell me what ache is” as each defines and experiences war in their own way.
Thank you so much, Lisa 🙂 so good to see you 💄❤️
Such a broad sweep of a poem Sanaa, which hits like a wave of war-torn grief on a beach where a war widow mourns. Magnificent!
Thank you so much, Ingrid 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
One never forgets Sanaa, ever!
Yes.
Some chilling lines – “a child’s laugh without mirth and humor”
The painting does bring up all the right emotions with the words, there is that indescribable tension, well written! 💯
Thank you so much, Tricia 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
I cannot begin to articulate how this poem has impacted me … the scars I carry, the scars my former husband and father of my children carries … Vietnam did us in.
I am so deeply sorry to hear that, Helen.
A beautiful rendition of the sins of war Sanaa, related to the beauty of the sea.
Hank
Thank you so much, Hank 🙂 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
It evokes my favorite war poem, Amy Lowell’s Patterns. Very much the same feeling of frivolous reference to hide from deep hurt.
Thank you so much, Xan 🙂 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
beautiful
❤️❤️❤️
A resonant ending. Reminds me of the persistent echo of trauma.
Thank you so much, Tzvi 🙂 so good to see you 💄❤️
The agony of war and loss so brilliantly reflected in your words Sanaa. This was breathtakingly beautiful and heartbreaking 😢❤️
Thank you so much, Christine 🙂 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
Sanaa,
Oof – this was a punch in the gut. You blew the prompt out of the water.
Sadly… yes… I think we do ~ all too quickly.
Yours,
David
Thank you so much, David 🙂 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
The memory of war is long, too, too long.
Yes.
beautiful incantatory ending, the blood that tinges every shore:
the roseate hue of sand; the roseate hue
of sand.
Do we ever forget?
Hopefully never, although we might want to.
Thank you so much, Lona 🙂 so glad the poem spoke to you 💄❤️
Very moving, Sanaa! War leaves so many scars–memories of loved ones and thoughts of what might have been. The land and people both crying.
“Imagine a shore that bears unrest,
a child’s laugh without mirth and humor;”
Thank you so much, Merril 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
Beautiful, evocative and oh so true Saana. No one can tell you what your pain feels like.
Thank you so much, Mary 🙂 so good to see you 💄❤️
a masterful use of words and analogies to mourn the distress war causes
❤️❤️❤️
The photographic image is haunting in its simplicy and emptiness…only the scene, no people “living” seen.
Your imagery within the poem is beautifully the same….these words especially struck me: “I get tired of people trying to tell me what ache is,”
Thank you so much, Lillian 🙂 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
“The roseate hue of sand. Do we ever forget?”
This is haunting and chilling.
Thank you so much, Sara 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️