memory fails to
stop enduring grief
face death alone
In 2015, when this post originally appeared, the New York Times published a chart explaining some of the ways civilians have died in the Syrian War. A little research online shows that in modern warfare it is estimated that 85-90% of all casualties are civilians (June 2014 American Journal of Public Health). War also wreaks havoc on the environment, leading to more death.
A Hard Rain
has fallen shadowed
by endless endings, ghosts both
multiplied and lost
Some estimates of civilians killed in recent and ongoing conflicts:
Syria 200, 000
Sierra Leone 70,000
These numbers have only increased since 2015.
There are not enough tears to encompass all this sorrow.
Bjorn at dVerse asked us to write poems of war. I decided to repost some of my headline haiku embroideries–I did a number of them from 2015-2017 when war was in the headlines every day. Now we’ve moved on to other things, but lest we forget, civilians and soldiers are still losing both their lives and homes every single day all over the world
and eyes refuse sight.
can be posed,
nor answers given. Light is
erased. Dust and blood.
on deaf ears
what’s going on?
for the truth?
the empty streets
Watch it and weep.
Inspired by Phil Gomm’s “Metropolis” prompt, I’ve revived Headline Haiku for a New York pandemic collage. I originally did a series of these current event newspaper artworks on methodtwomadness, the blog I do with Nina (who is on an extended break), but I haven’t done one in a long time.
It also fits my current supply situation–most everything I own is in storage, and I do not have many collage materials in my temporary apartment. But I do get the NY Times delivered, and I cut them up for what I’m working on as needed.
I took two of the obituary pages from last Sunday’s paper and collaged it with images and headline haiku collected from the last month’s papers.
(read the story accompanying this headline here)
My city is hurting. It’s uncertain when anything will return and what form it will take.
But the lifeblood of the city is its people, and something will always grow and thrive among them.
I spent my childhood in Ohio and Maryland but I never put roots down in either place. NYC is my hometown. And aside from one apartment, I’ve always lived and worked either on, or within walking distance, of Broadway.
For the last 10 years, I’ve been able to walk to Yankee Stadium from my residences…and many’s the time I’ve started home to the accompaniment of Frank Sinatra after a game.
New York has been a city of immigrants for its entire existence. And it will continue to draw strength from its diversity as it comes back to life.
New York, New York…a metropolis in which to imagine a new world.