Flying the Flag on 9-11

As we remember 9-11, and while America is awash in the red, white and blue of “Old Glory” on September 11, it bears remembering that the flag stands for Liberty, not merely global supremacy. I wrote the villanelle below for my wife Beth when I woke up on the first anniversary of 9-11 to find her weeping as the names of the dead were recounted, after which she went outside and wrote “NEVER FORGET” in large white letters on the window of her SUV:



Because Her Heart Is Tender, for Beth
by Michael R. Burch

She scrawled soft words in soap: “Never Forget,”
Dove-white on her car’s window, and the wren,
because her heart is tender, might regret

it called the sun to wake her. As I slept,
she heard lost names recounted, one by one.
She wrote in sidewalk chalk: “Never Forget,”

and kept her heart’s own counsel. No rain swept
away those words, no tear leaves them undone.
Because her heart is tender with regret,

bruised by razed towers’ glass and steel and stone
that shatter on and on and on and on ...
she stitches in wet linen: “NEVER FORGET,”

and listens to her heart’s emphatic song.
The wren might tilt its head and sing along
because its heart once understood regret

when fledglings fell beyond, beyond, beyond ...
its reach, and still the boot-heeled world strode on.  
She writes in adamant: “NEVER FORGET”
because her heart is tender with regret.



The villanelle is an English variant of a French poetic form. The most famous English villanelle is “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night,” written by the Welsh poet Dylan Thomas as his father lay dying. Robert Zimmerman took his last name from Dylan Thomas’s first name, becoming Bob Dylan, America’s most famous poet/songwriter/troubadour. The first song of Bob Dylan’s that I remember hearing was “Blowin’ in the Wind” and the questions raised by that song still reverberate today, in the aftermath of 9-11:



Blowin' in the Wind
by Bob Dylan

How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
Yes, 'n' how many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, 'n' how many times must the cannon balls fly
Before they're forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

How many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky?
Yes, 'n' how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, 'n' how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

How many years can a mountain exist
Before it's washed to the sea?
Yes, 'n' how many years can some people exist
Before they're allowed to be free?
Yes, 'n' how many times can a man turn his head,
Pretending he just doesn't see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.



Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
by Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
 

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
 

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
 

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
 

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
 

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.



As we remember 9-11, I believe we should heed three very important messages found in the poems above: (1) We should value all life, so that we “rage against the dying of the light” of even a single human being. This is the principal democracy is founded on -- the value of each individual and his or her right to "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." (2) Yes, we should defend ourselves and our children, but in order to truly protect our children, we desperately need to consider how the cannon balls "may be forever banned," so that they can live in peace without the ever-present threat of war. (3) Like Beth, we should allow our hearts to be tender with regret for those who died needlessly, honoring their memory. Perhaps the best way to honor their memory, and not let their deaths be in vain, is to ensure that their children don’t meet the same end. Finding the path to peace is not easy, but it is essential. Just because an answer isn’t easy doesn’t mean the answer shouldn’t be relentlessly pursued. For the first time in history, most of the civilized world has stable borders. Just sixty-two years ago, highly civilized countries like Germany, Japan, France, England and the United States were blowing up cities by the scores and human beings by the millions. We have made tremendous progress in only a few short decades. In less than 150 years, the United States has managed to abolish slavery, radically advance women’s rights, and create a melting pot in which all races and faiths can live together in peace and equality. Today we're making substantial progress on gay rights. So we shouldn’t assume that global peace is impossible. Perhaps it begins with a strong defense and an even stronger value for human life. As we mourn our fallen dead, let’s also mourn for the children of Iraq who died through no fault of their own, and hope that the ones still living will learn to live in peace with our children, rather than hurling cannon balls and atomic bombs at each other.

After I posted this piece, I had two responses from poets who have been influenced by Bob Dylan's "Blowin' in the Wind." The first poet told me that he and what sounds like an impromptu band on a cruise ship won a shipboard contest, with the poet singing "Blowin' in the Wind." The second poet, Seamus Cassidy, sent me the poem below. It's title was inspired by the song:

 

Choosing Not to Look Away

I walk by in back of the strip mall
almost not noticing his dumpster condo next to the junior high school's sports field.
Wearing a faded baseball cap,
his head propped against
the trunk of a cottonwood tree,
the man moves his lips spasmodically,
but keeps fixing his eyes
on the page he's reading.

...

Sweats dry in lockers
where small jock straps and
training bras hang
on metal hooks.
Boys and girls doze together through last period pre-algebra--
hypnotized by Mrs. 50-Plus,
who paces back and forth
monotoning on
that "both sides of
the equation are equal."

...

He turns another crumpled page
of his paperback and thinks
he now knows why Rome
fell to the "barbarians at the gate."

...

Math blockers understand
they understand nothing
except the looming Hell
of Summer School's repeat failure.

...

Twenty assorted tones of pigeon
share the shade with the homeless
dropout cramming there for finals.

...

Dismissal bell wakes the dozefellows
to the handwriting on the chalkboard--
tonight's ration of dirty 30 problems
even a president and his whole council
of advisors couldn't solve.

....

The birds, scared off
by a children's army retreating in disorder
across the green battlefield, abandon
their positions, leaving the reader
alone. The battalion passes by
the sentry without noticing
how he's subverted the divine order
of their universe.

Copyright Seamus Cassidy



They say good things come in threes, and this page started with three poems, and it has already struck a chord with three THT poets: myself, an anonymous poet/singer, and Seamus Cassidy. If it strikes a chord with you, please feel free to join in the discussion or add your contribution or anecdote to the page.

Mike Burch
Editor, The HyperTexts
www.thehypertexts.com

PS – You can find wonderful testimonials to our troops on the “Thanksgiving” section of The HyperTexts, and messages of peace and goodwill on our “Grace Notes,” “For Darfur,” “Mysterious Ways” and “In Peace’s Arms” pages.