An
elegy written after the terrible events in the USA on September 11th 2001.
This poem has now been chosen for next year’s national anthology but may not be printed as the editor wants to Bowdlerise the line ‘Holy shit…’. He wants to substitute ‘Holy s**t’. I have written to him twice now stating that if it is not printed as written, then not to print it at all.
This poem has now been chosen for next year’s national anthology but may not be printed as the editor wants to Bowdlerise the line ‘Holy shit…’. He wants to substitute ‘Holy s**t’. I have written to him twice now stating that if it is not printed as written, then not to print it at all.
Elegy
for Love
The
flames of hate burn deeply into my unbelieving mind
My
soul in search of love amongst the fire.
The
heavens, raped by the screaming phallic firebombs of hell
Spewing
the loveless venom of the false messiah.
'Holy
shit', the New York voice succinctly cries
As
the violence of virginal violation painfully dawns.
The
maidenhead once breached can never again be mended.
For
this enforced change of life humanity mourns.
Though
love lies bleeding its incorruptible flowers will bloom again.
Its
roots fixed firmly in freedom's fertile soil,
Our
tears as initial irrigation, nurtured with our souls.
Love
and peace and freedom are worthy of our toil.
© Bill Healey
13 Sept 2001
Twelve
months on from this tragedy, I wrote a performance piece called, ‘The
War on Iraq’, which you might like to read.
What a difference a year makes!
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