Christmas in Baghdad

[Fegger]

Christmas in Baghdad

Is this the place where garland grows,
Among the olive branches low?
Splattered, cindered, clay abode,
Am I so alien?
Encircled those, in khaki drab;
Paying homage to the bags;
Which hold remains of brave, young lads;
Will I feel again?

Surrounded, chains of un-lit lights,
Which only shine in day, not nights;
Illumination betrays the plights,
Should we become aglow.
A tree of polypropylene,
Adorns the tower, so serene;
A branch of steel hid in-between,
That only gunner knows.

The air of diesel, not of Myrrh,
As pre-fab dwellings start to stir,
Indifferent as they observe,
Fading of the Star.
A failed attempt at lone ‘SandMan’
Adorned with boots, bayonet in hand,
Iraqi winds displace his stand,
Re-formed in Kandahar.

T’was yesterday, on Christmas Eve;
A day ahead of promised leave,
When Paul, Eric, Mark and Steve,
Took leisurely patrol.
In Tikrit, where he was born,
Some sixty years before this ‘Storm’,
They’d set-out on this early morn.
Assessing evening’s toll.

Among the buildings, scattered ruins;
Charred men--shadows, on the dunes;
From temples soar cremated plumes;
One hour had gone by.
In the distance, beyond the spire,
Come ‘reports’ of skirmish fire,
Incessant screaming of the dire;
Then screams dissolve to cries.

Approach, inside a city square,
Where once a fountain teemed, right there,
Smoldering flesh, low burning hair;
A family splayed together.
Rank and putrid pieces strewn,
Mother’s face, shrapnel-hewn;
Attending Allah far too soon--
All their hands were tethered.

Domestic dogs, now on their own,
Fight for human flesh and bone;
Such holy image sets the tone,
As chorus strikes ‘Jihad’.
Eric stumbles, exploded knee,
Bearing witness to comrades, three,
Souls reclaimed near instantly;
Christmas in Baghdad.

Is this the place where garland grows;
Among the olive branches low?
How I miss New England snow,
This Christmas in Baghdad.



Copyright 2010, Fegger

[PrinceMyshkin]

I have a largely negative reaction to the technical virtuosity of this throughout, and a neck-snapping admiration for the closing couplet, where the expected rhyme is thwarted, which seems altogether fitting for the place and the events you describe, where in reality nothing 'rhymes.'

But until that end-point, as I said to begin with, I thought that what was manifestly "poetic" was inappropriate to the mayhem you were describing.

[Fegger]

Prince--Am I to understand that you are suggesting that the rhyming scheme detracts from the theme---or that a poetic compromise has been reached? Please explain.

The final couplet is only an excerpt from the AAAB stanza; and this is a form I maintained throughout (with the exception of a 'reach' of a rhyme, here and there---ie. 'Jihad', 'Baghdad').

Please know that I'm not 'put-off' by any critique---positive or negative...I actually prefer the negative ones; but I have this obsession with understanding, exactly, what the critic is stating.

Thanks!

[PrinceMyshkin]

Prince--Am I to understand that you are suggesting that the rhyming scheme detracts from the theme---or that a poetic compromise has been reached? Please explain.
Yes, both the rhymes and the even-handed meter


The final couplet is only an excerpt from the AAAB stanza; and this is a form I maintained throughout (with the exception of a 'reach' of a rhyme, here and there---ie. 'Jihad', 'Baghdad').
Sloppy of me not to have noticed this throughout - but it stood out more forcefully because that last verse was half the length of the others.

Please know that I'm not 'put-off' by any critique---positive or negative...I actually prefer the negative ones; but I have this obsession with understanding, exactly, what the critic is stating.

Thanks!

[firefangled]

There are certainly plenty of examples of rhyming poetry with war as their topic, Wilfred Owen's Dulce Et Decorum Est for one. However, the form should not call more attention to itself than the topic. You would expect this to happen with too repetative a form.

If you read Owen's poem, you can see that he changes the end rhyme throughout the poem. This way of using pattern keeps the rhyme scheme from dominating the content. Owen also used the pattern changes to advance the poem's actions or scene changes, if you will.

You are saying a lot in this poem, but you could make it tighter, which would add to its power to affect the reader. Also, your attempt to personalize the soldiers is appreciated, but if I walked up to you and said William is bringing you a book. You would probably say: William who?

It is often in editing where you start to see the poem you want to write. When the storm comes and you have to choose what you will take with you in the evacuation, and what you leave behind, it will be those things most precious to you that you keep. Same thing applies to a poem.

Keep writing and don't forget to read a variety of poetry.

[Fegger]

Prince--I truly appreciate your insight; and I'm not in total disagreement with you at all. I would venture to say that attending to this topic in a more narrative form would have granted me greater liberties into delving into a more impassioned piece rather than the 'report' that this one maintains.

Thanks again!

[Delta40]

I rather like the bumpy rhyme and meter - as if one was on a dusty unlevel road on patrol seems to me apt when I visualize some of the conditons you have communicated so well.

Approach, inside a city square,
Where once a fountain teemed, right there,
Smoldering flesh, low burning hair;
A family splayed together.
Rank and putrid pieces strewn,
Mother’s face, shrapnel-hewn;
Attending Allah far too soon--
All their hands were tethered.

I turn my face away from the everyday reality of others....

really good poem

[Fegger]

fire--I know exactly what you mean by the overbearing rhyme and, specifically how it demands the attention of the reader (Prince noted the same). The personalizing, as you had pointed out, would probably be some of the initial 'cuts' I would make in an edit. These things are 'colloquial', in a sense, and therefore provide many barriers to a reader. In short, I quite agree.

My brief study of Owen's piece occurred nearly 30 years ago, while in college; and, quite honestly, I haven't returned since that time. The rhyming technique he used, as I recall, reminded me a bit of Houseman, cummings (to some minor degree), and Frost (although he was rather anal about meter). I could be wrong, however, it's been a long time.

I'm not at all discontent with the diversity in the reading that I do; and I write with great regularity---and have for over 40 years, so I don't expect that practice will end any time soon. I do appreciate the encouragement, thank you.

[Fegger]

Thank you, Delta. This, to me, is a visually driven piece; and its 'shock value' masquerades many of its deficiencies. I am pleased that you like it in its 'raw' form though...thanks again!

[jajdude]

It flows very nicely; reminds me of Tennyson. I was caught up in the flow and musicality more than the words and meaning. It's a beautiful structure though.

[YesNo]

I enjoyed the meter, rhyme and content.

[Fegger]

Jaj,YesNo...thank you for your thoughts--and seeing the 'musicality' in this made me smile (I'm taking a hiatus from songwriting, at the moment---guess it follows me some).

Thanks again!