In mind.

Posted on by Lucy

catalpa, heart-shaped and boney
your daddy died years ago,
in redress of his mind, where I leave
my fingers on the stone,
and I’ll never see him, he is just a rock
he is just a worm;
you’ve been in my mind
but never knew me,
I tire; death
is half the stradivarius of the birds
and their strings of gut
than it is mystifying or
inbound
to limb
by limb
and the shadow of their men.
The root of rock
tree limbs near
Anchinia cristalis
their moth wings
in arias
and woodland
mincing and misplanted
in raw-boned eulogy after eulogy
and I’ve never known him
this man of earth, of war
and weedy cypress, lizards
and their fluted skins
married to the wind;
phantom epistles
from Vietnam
fed by labored tumuli,
plummeted fingers into the ground
fall and drown, fall and drown.

© 2020 Pseudopsychosis All Rights Reserved.

Posted for the dVerse MTB prompt: Write a Protest Poem with a theme (e.g. voting, social justice, peace & war, violence, women’s rights, human rights, environment, pandemic, etc).

This is not quite a protest poem, but I think it communicates the same idea about what war takes away from us, including our loved ones who either passed in war or lived through their traumas until the end of their life.

Originally published at Ephemeral Elegies. I dedicated this to my Grandfather who served in the Vietnam War, passing away years later in my early childhood.

Published by Lucy

"Poetess of darkness"–dVerse community; cat hoarder, guitarist, keyboardist, psych major.

62 thoughts on “In mind.”

  1. How sad, when war leaves us with shadows of their soldiers, forever traumatized by what they have seen. I wonder if you are for or against that war?
    Lucy, I can’t imagine the hell some people have gone through. Your lines here are stellar:

    and I’ll never see him, he is just a rock
    he is just a worm;

    and
    in raw-boned eulogy after eulogy
    and I’ve never known him
    this man of earth, of war

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Oh, yes, I agree with you very much. It’s haunting and terrifying what they go through, and they come back never the same.

      I’m against the Vietnam War. I think it was a war that wasn’t needed, and it either ended many lives or it left these lives with long-lasting trauma and PTSD. This was a war “justified” by the domino theory and the fear of the spread of communism. Involvement in Vietnam, I personally think was not needed. It’s saddening what these soldiers were put through, and my Grandfather as one of them, he was psychologically tormented from it.

      I thank you for your heartfelt comment and feedback, Grace. Thank you. ❤ ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Behind the simple title lies a complex poem about the effects of war. A deeply touching poem, Lucy, from the point of view of a child who didn’t have the chance to meet and get to know their grandfather. The lines that sang to me are:
    ‘…death
    is half the stradivarius of the birds
    and their strings of gut’
    and
    ‘their moth wings
    in arias
    and woodland
    mincing and misplanted
    in raw-boned eulogy after eulogy.’
    The ones that broke my heart are:
    ‘…I’ve never known him
    this man of earth, of war
    …
    phantom epistles
    from Vietnam’.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Kim, I thank you greatly. Vietnam took away so much, and in its aftermath, it took away peace for these men and gave them waking nightmares, the ones who survived and came back home. My Grandfather suffered. When I was a child, he passed away and I never got to know him well or even at all, quite honestly. Vietnam didn’t kill him at first, but in the end, I believe it did if that makes sense.

      Thank you for your kind words and analysis. ❤ ❤ It means a lot.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. I find this quite hard to read. The poem, and the comments. The beauty makes it all the more painful. “I don’t know him.” I said to my therapist last week (about a Grandad I didn’t meet) “I don’t know what he went through in the war, but I know he turned to drink.”
        I think (especially when it comes to family) we share more experiences than most of us realize…I hope that makes sense 🙏

        Liked by 2 people

      2. I am so sorry, Kay. My Grandfather coped in similar ways after what he went through.

        I believe that too. Thank you for sharing and for reading my piece. Hugs. ❤ ❤

        Liked by 2 people

  7. War, whether justified or not justified — depends on who is talking — leaves its undelible (sp?) stain upon its participants. I’ve seen it in too many loved ones and acquaintances. A very powerful protest poem, Lucy.

    Liked by 2 people

  9. Lucy in the sky with protestations–hear, hear. There is a whole genre of war protest poems, and this piece could stand on parade with any of them. Viet Nam was my war. Your poem conjures the ghosts of comrades and friends. You might enjoy HERE, BULLET by Brian Turner about the Iraq war.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you so, so much, Glenn. I’m so sorry to hear about your comrades and friends. War is indeed hell, and my heart goes out to you. I will also be sure to check out that poem.

      Like

  15. The elegiac tone of this piece comes through so well – the repetitions ‘tire’ ‘rock’, ‘limbs’ ‘raw boned eulogy is a beauty – and the wonderful broken rhymes – ‘to limb / by limb/ and the shadow of their men’. Like limbs scattered on a battlefield. Visceral wonderful writing Lucy.

    Liked by 2 people

  17. kaykuala
    in redress of his mind, where I leave
    my fingers on the stone,
    and I’ll never see him, he is just a rock

    There they are, plain cold tombstone, that’s all left. Vietnam and now practically everywhere war undeclared make life really miserable. Protest as we do but politics and power play are of higher consideration. Brilliant references to many beautiful contrasts, Lucy. Ma’am!

    Hank

    Liked by 3 people

  18. It’s exceptionally powerful with its windy distant address, picking up the remnants of a ghostly harrow sixty years past. Sublime, too, for the way its meaning is woven so deeply under the surface.

    Liked by 3 people

  22. Deeply touching Lucy. I was a lucky one. I was in Army ROTC for two years while at university, on my way to be an Infantry 2nd Lieutenant. Right before I was due to “up” into active full time duty, the 1969 Viet Nam draft lottery happened — and my birth date number was 292… so I never had to go “in country”. But far too many of my high school and college friends died physically or mentally in that most unfortunate war. Well written here Lucy… 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  26. Even if I do not know what it is like to be at war… I can make such a term as “war” to be simply defined as “protection”.

    Even for what I currently do, in taking care of my GF through her poverty, I still comprehend the pain (my worries) is honorable enough to keep going. I love to take care, of her. And, I would be willing to break a thousand more times, just to keep her safe. If this is a “soldier’s mind”, despite how I’ve never been to war, then so be it.

    I suffer in the repression of trauma. As well, I suffer in the guilt for what I’ve done wrong. As well, I question the meaning behind my life, at times. Just recently, I’ve been diagnosed with Tuberculosis, because of the stress-levels.

    I’ve never made at attempt on my life, though my GF attempted it four times over, after we broke up for a while. I could not even process it, during each time she tried it. I was too much in the grief of the heartbreak.

    I have 1,600 poems written in her name, all on my blog. I have promised to one day to become a doctor that I may cure her, of what is preventing us from being married. It is because I am loyal to who I love.

    If war is Hell, then in my own battles, I am always looking over my shoulder to see the one I will return to.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I am so sorry for what both of you have been through. It takes great strength to try and overcome your battles and I’m glad you can resonate with my poem in that way too. War can be literal (as is) or mental; I believe the aftermath in suffering or suffering itself is a war we fight.

      Much love and peace to you and your gf. When we have our loved ones close, it might not make the war better, but it makes it better to endure and persevere throughout.

      Liked by 1 person

  27. Hauntingly deep and moving. It reminds me of my Mum telling me about her Grandad, not long before she died, and how studying for her counseling degree (in her final years on earth) filled her with compassion for him and made her see him in a completely new light. He suffered from shell shock after the war and it left its indelible mark on him, much like you shared of your own Grandad.

    Thank you for this gift of words to linger in and ponder.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for sharing your story. ❤️ It’s very powerful how we can see people in a new perspective, perhaps one we haven’t thought of before. I’m glad you could resonate with this and I thank you so much for your lovely words.

      Like

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