Poetry : Mourn and Recall

This poem was written on-the-fly at a September the 11th poetry slam that quickly went from a public remembrance to a war-bashing session. While my feelings about the war were, and are not fully explained by this poem, I was very frustrated with the lack of opposing views being presented.

Two and a half years later, all I can say is much of it is still true – this country is in a very public session of moral questioning and quandary. Perhaps I should turn this one into a series

Originally posted September 12th, 2007.

You stand up here
Speaking of revolution
Of those that died
For misbegotten beliefs
In God, Country, and War

You stand up here
Telling me that we’ve got it wrong
That we messed it all up
And all that’s left to do
Is mourn and recall

Mourn and Recall
That day when the towers fell
That our soldiers were deployed
That the world turned upside down

You stand up here
Mourning the lives that are lost
Recalling liberties yanked away
Speaking of revolution

So I ask you
The affected, the teary-eyed
The revolutionaries
The believers in country
Or in conspiracy

Who do you mourn?
Who did you
Who do you know
That you would have,
Should have,
Could have,
Kissed goodbye

Now, standing up here, respectfully
I ask you to recall
Not a president’s blunders
Or the lack of planning
Not the fear of reprisal
Or your political sway

But recall why it is
A Revolution around which you rally
A Revolution for which you mourn
Is it freedoms denied?
Or the hapless, hopeless, senseless deaths?

And I ask you to recall
How much freedom there is
Surrounded in the stifling black
And lost self
Of an unwanted burqua

And I ask you to recall
How many hapless
Hopeless
Senseless deaths
Hidden in mass graves
Came to the Kurds
At the hands of chemical tests

And I ask you to mourn
For the on-mass killings
Of innocents
Bystanders
And the unlucky
Those caught in the crossfire
Of powerful dictators
And their desires

I am not standing up here
To tell you that we are right
That the world operates
On black and white

I simply ask you to recall
That though WMDs are MIA
Our reasons were not
And are not
Quite all that simple
Mourn for those that die
On all sides
And realize

That jihad means personal struggle
Not death
And destruction
That jihad is a holy word
For believers in Country,
God, and Conspiracy all

And we are a world
In a very public expression
Of personal moral jihad

So I ask you
The affected
What is your struggle
The world is not black and white
And we all live
In a world of gray

A world where words
Mean what we are told
And now how they are intended
Where questioning “truth”
A “questionable activity”

Recalling the world
As it used to be
I am forced to mourn
Openness in thought
And inquisitive natures
Willing to ask

Because when you ask yourself
Which direction to go
Or what you believe
THAT is jihad, a revolution in thought
Not a violent, outward
Explosion of emotion
But the slow burn
Of an internal struggle

Where there is no easy
No right answer
Where both sides are right
And all sides are wrong

By ripping away freedom
To restore expression
And soaking in blood
To save an entire people
We are mourning the days
When life was more clear-cut
And recalling the days
When we were not much better

Our world lives in gray
And struggle
The inevitable conclusion
Jihad is the pain of growth
And something good
Trying to happen

So I am standing up here
Waiting for that bright dawn
I stand here
Speaking of the revolutionary mourning
That will allow us all to recall

Poetry : Dewey

I admit, I’m a reader – and for a while, I was trying to be a slam poet as well. Strange things happen when you combine those loves. Here was my first attempt at it.

Originally posted August 13, 2007.