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Writing poetry into a headwind of thuggery

 

Writing poetry into a headwind of thuggery

 

It’s got really hard writing poetry into a headwind of thuggery

It’s throws good people off their centre

It brings fear into the home

& I am reminded of Ginsberg’s poem “America”:

“I won’t write my poem until I’m in my right mind”

Music loses its rhythm when it’s locked in to a marching beat

The war beat has no place in poetry

But this headwind of thuggery

Is beating up on the weak & oppressed

& so what do we do? Forget beauty? Nature? The person?

That’s what it wants us to do

Then how do I write a beautiful line

When violence is coming upon us?

Think of your loved ones, the muse suggests

But I can barely see them now

Shrouded in the fog of war

& so I write a desperate tune

Of a vulnerable soul

I’m so heavily medicated

My ‘prison sentence’

Yet I am needed regardless, to fight

Battle weary I will regather whatever strength is in me

Having determined never to turn myself into a monster

I will if push comes to shove

 


Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

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