Friday, March 11, 2022

Not in Our Name (a found poem)

There were mutterings that each day grew louder,
signs and portents that we refused to believe.
Local militia were organizing and drilling
getting ready to answer the call should it come.
Not that people thought that it would come.
They believed, as they hoped,
that something would be done to prevent war…….
As for those others who prophesied and prayed for it,
who wanted the vials of God's wrath uncorked,
they got what they wanted.
Their prayers were answered;
the land was drenched in blood.
But for the most of us
we did not.

Found poem from:A Virginia Girl in the Civil War, 1861-1865: Being a Record of the Actual Experiences of the Wife of a Confederate Officer: Ed. by Myrta Lockett Avary

I originally posted this found poem for Read Write Poem, four years ago, but it seems very relevant to today's situation. 


Christine Swint said...

Wonderful! You found an amazing passage, and formed a most poignant poem. Well done! Finding a poem is almost more work than writing one,don't you think?

Paul said...

That's a very cool poem and very topical. I fear we are approaching a point in the cycle, Juliet, where the choice may not be between peace and war but between peace and justice. I hope not. But it has happened before and you know what they say about the conditions in which evil prospers.

Jules @ Lovely Las Vegas said...

I got chills from the poem. Even though it was written so long ago, it seems so real, so true, even in present day society...

Mary Stebbins Taitt said...

I am among the nots! AK! Yep, chills. It seems like today's poem.

James said...

This is a really sobering piece especially today considering that here in Texas our (self-aggrandizing, idiot) governor just gave a speech suggesting that secession is an option. I wish those here would spend a little time thinking about what that would mean and what happened the last time it was tried. Like I said, this piece really hit me hard today.

gautami tripathy said...

Very relevant.

Please do read my found poem. I know it very long but I think you will like it:

A man, his fiddle and crows

Cynthia said...

Stately simply and profoundly in
the lack of preamble.