Algae aglow.
I row against the littoral,
The literal a bow I cannot steady;
I’ve never been ready:
The Gulf so guttural,
It pains me to scream a circle
‘Round the eddy.
She’s an interminable sea:
Her ceaseless rhythm pulverizes me
Until I’m velvet beneath her feet,
Until I’m billions of crystalline dreams.
A tread-upon afterthought,
I fought four decades of demons
To be sought, bloodied-over.
Will there be a war for dirt?
The past has been a flirt with less—
And many wars say so.
Previous Post:
Poetry: Second Stone
https://windstrewn.com/2020/07/28/second-stone/
WINDSTREWN 
Wow!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Taranum…quite enough in that one word to give me the gift of smile. I am grateful for your company.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m glad about that! Thank YOU for sharing such wonderful verses! xx
LikeLiked by 1 person
The easy thing to do would be to click on the star below the word ‘Wow!’
My father and grandfather were conscientious objectors. My father was imprisoned for his stance. We can watch innocents being murdered, or we can take up arms and join in the murder of innocents – yet, whatever we choose, which of us is innocent? Donovan said about those who wear the uniform, “you’re a universal soldier and you really are to blame”. Soldiers claim that those who don’t fight are cowards. Meanwhile, governments, made up of flawed beings with their own agendas, stand above their chess pieces and gleefully sweep both sides of the board. As a child I didn’t understand how they could risk their men. Now I know. They don’t care.
You can’t fight for peace, I mutter, uncertainly, although I know it’s true…
and yet, sometimes…
It’s a difficult subject, and an excellent poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I read you thoroughly…the matter of war and the rationalization of its necessity is unavoidably a discussion that pivots, creaks and groans on the very fulcrum that creates war: disagreement. The reconciliation of it is impossible without shelving something critically important. We can speak of schoolyard bullies and the diplomatic friendships made between enemies after WWII; but it is telling, as an example, that atrocities such as Hiroshima and Nagasaki gave us one of the most peaceful-minded cultures in the world, the present-day Japanese. Each of these oversimplified statements hide, if not entirely forget, the raw emotional value of mankind, the incalculable and very individual human sacrifices made, each of them as unique as a Bonzai. Whether a war of continents or a war in the yearning heart, we all lose something when the first punch is thrown. With far less actionable sorrow than it deserves, not only does this ultimately make love more idyllic than it needs be, but requisite of a longer arm to reach…
Thank you, Jane. As always, it is the rare pleasure to hear your voice.
LikeLiked by 1 person
There can be no joy without sorrow, no rage without the calm – positive and negative energies creating a terrifying balance, which crushes some while it elevates others, and we are a part of the process – beings who prefer the beauty and danger of the mountains and valleys to the monotony of the flat plain. This is the only way we can survive.
I need to get the horror of the WW1 trenches out of my mind. It’s a recurring theme – the coldness of the British Government’s strategies, towards our fighting forces.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Indeed, we are atoms along the slinky coil. But, you’re right, the skewed, heart-renting and unsettling appearance of war makes all the more beautiful the beautiful. In a room pinging with such contentious banter, we’d be the ones with eyes through a window and on the way of a painted sky. And that’s okay. We find our solaces where they are, perhaps where they should be…
LikeLiked by 1 person