In A Time Of Endless War Poem by Gary Corseri

I write for the men of a thousand years hence—
And the women—and their healthy children.
And if they are suffering, if night is day,
Then I will drink the cup of despair with them,
For I have tasted of despair.

And if they are happy and wise,
May my words animate their limbs; may they dance
As I danced in the spring of my days.
In their dancing, my words will come again
Even as they came from the Old Ones long ago
To fill my cup with dreams and desire.

From the grunting in the caves,
From the maker of the paintings
And from the approving utterance of their critics,
These words crystallized over lifetimes come again.
Outside, howling winds; inside, the fire.

And if you have kept the flame of comradeship
In spite of arrows and explosions—
I send salutations from a blood-drenched past.

But…, if the blood has drowned your best
And you find these strange and faded words,
Then you have fulfilled the worst of us,
Then may you swallow them;
May they die in your entrails
For they and you have dwelt enough in darkness.
Enmity and gall and fear have hollowed us all.
Then…, let the words fester inside you and burn like a star.

My son, my daughter: We could not shake free of
The chrysalis of war, entombing us,
Still-birthing you. …

Never forgive us!


(first published/posted at Hollywood Progressive,2015)