Friday, June 7, 2024

Useless. Idiot.

CLICK HERE TO HEAR AUTHOR READ


June 6, 2024 - the 80th anniversary of D-Day when, in the early morning hours over 150,000 troops, mostly 18-20 year old men, under heavy German gunfire, landed on the beaches of Normandy, France to begin the Allied invasion to liberate Nazi-occupied Europe. In the ensuing months 73,000 were killed and 153,000 were wounded in the Battle of Normandy. The Allied bombing of the surrounding villages also killed 20,000 French citizens.


I write a poem.

Useless. Idiot.


Over there 

babies were cooked alive

in microwave ovens

for thrills

and politics.


I write a poem.

Useless. Idiot.


The breasts

of young women

were sliced off

and kicked around

like footballs -

videos uploaded

to social media

to show the gunmen 

living their best lives

to family and friends.


I write a poem.

Useless. Idiot.


They danced and cheered,

called mom and dad

to celebrate   

killing Jews, so proud, 

"I killed a Jew!

Allahu Akbar!"


I write a poem.

Useless. Idiot.


They took hostages

at gun point

and knife point,

babies and mothers,

children and fathers,

to use as human shields.


I write a poem.

Useless. Idiot.


University students

some from here,

others visiting

on a semester abroad,

pitch tents like refugees,

wave flags, chant

Genocide, Apartheid,

'From the river to the sea', and 

'There is only one solution

intifada revolution'

in solidarity,

useful idiots.


I write a poem.

Useless. Idiot.

4 comments:

  1. Better to be a useless idiot than a useful one? It seems so!

    I think what you are trying to say is that it is useless -- idiotically useless -- to try to write a poem about these atrocities. No poem can undo what has been done. No poem can assuage the pain.

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    Replies
    1. It’s a terrible feeling to want to do something about injustice and the best you can muster is a poem. And not even a terribly good one. The saving grace to being an idiot is that at least I’m not being used to aid and abet someone else’s atrocity. And at least I realize I’m an idiot.

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  2. Perhaps we're all mere idiots in the face of unspeakable pain and suffering.

    (Cross-reference Dylan's excellent song, "Idiot Wind".)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Well said. Apparently idiot comes from the Greek ‘idios’ meaning ‘private’ or ‘own’. And that may have something to do with the poem, although I don’t know what. And next time we see each other you’ll have to explain that Dylan song. It’s a doozy.

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