Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write about wondering what “future archaeologists, whether human or from an alien civilization, will make of us . . . exploring a particular object or place from the point of view of some far-off, future scientist.” Thanks to Michael of last week’s Tale Weavers from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie who provided a prompt about the moon. As well for A to Z Challenge for a GoodRead’s quote the letter today is the letter W.
” . . . All that is now / [a]ll that is gone/ [a]ll that’s to come / and everything under the sun is in tune/ but the sun is eclipsed by the moon.
“There is no dark side of the moon really. Matter of fact it’s all dark.” — Roger Waters
Gazing into the future, ‘neath a pale moon gleaming bright,
Hard to believe, people who were, saw the same moon’s shining light.
They had houses, electricity.
So many ethnicities.
It’s different now, the gene pool changed,
Those who look unique all estranged.
All look like us, all brown eyes, dark hair, and medium skin too.
I can scarce picture blond, red-haired, green eyes, or eyes so blue.
Genetic defects they called them, so now we’re all plain, the same,
It’s weird to think, they dyed their hair, all colors, none went gray.
How was it to be individual,
Not for the whole good — sacrificial.
What makes a person now is,
Incredibly different knowing this —
Society of people who fell as those before left their cities,
Frames of what once was, rusted metal, not all that pretty.
Their language full of slang, we cannot pin down lingiustics,
Cannot find words, spoken globally, their lyrics I sing.
But their music is strange, listened —
To some and our technology it fits.
Technology they had weird, but we —
Discover strange things, sound gleaned.
Words not understandable but melodies clear and bright,
Music is forbidden, I sing in secrecy to ancient tunes light.
Some days we watch their stories, their films, when the moon is round.
My favorite days, those brilliant plays, words with lovely sound.
And we find little toys, scrapbooks, phones,
While in the distance the guns drone.
Each man, each woman a soldier,
Controlled by who knows? With no souls.
No hope as those gone far ago had, of a war ending soon,
Gazing into the future, we lived under the same moon.
Oh, little lamb so marked for slaughter, with downy wool and bleating softly. Why do you release your life so easily, so innocent, not knowing you are meant to eat. Oh, silent babes, I understand now — it’s not you who die but the GoodShepard who lays down his life for his sheep; his flock he knows and marks them well, his own blood the price paid, the enemy felled.
For Day 5, the NaPoWriMo poetry prompt is ” to write a poem that is based in the natural world: it could be about a particular plant, animal, or a particular landscape. But it should be a slice of the natural world that you have personally experienced and optimally, one that you have experienced often.” The accompanying A to Z Challenge today starts with a GoodRead’s author’s quote, with a name beginning with the letter E.
“I’d rather have roses on my table than diamonds on my neck.” ― Emma Goldman
Down the path of foliage, between all the trees,
It’s where I find my space, my home sweet home.
There’s something about crisp green leaves,
Wet after the rain, while the dew clings, not letting go.
With road passing through, steps to eternity,
Enthrall me in summer’s breath, the scent of the morning,
Let me stay in mother nature, her security.
Tree branches entwining, limbs gripped with passion,
Used to the presence of parallel lovers.
They’re completely attached, unwilling to let go,
Nymphs holding fast, enraptured with each other,
With the road passing through, steps to eternity,
Absorbing the thrill of the mid-summer fairy dance.
Let me stay in mother nature, her security.
Some brilliant reckless person crafted this road,
Travelers speeding through trees, guarding the sacred path.
Some pause knowing they’ve discovered sanctuary,
Freedoms breeze, they’ll stop to admire the sentinels guarding.
With the road passing through, steps to eternity,
A place where verdant nature, holds a secret prosperity.
Let me stay in mother nature, her security.
For hours I’ve wandered through lush trees,
Delicate roses growing, shadowed by dripping leaves.
Overcome am I, by epic beauty, of roses sweetly pink,
Crushing them in my hands, to absorb the memories.
With the road passing through, steps to eternity.
Inhaling the fragrance of aspiring life, in roses soft,
Steve walked into English 311 wearing a toga and a gold spray-painted crown of leaves.
Dr. Lawerence, their English Professor, laughed at the front of the room along with some of the other students.
“Why is what Steve wearing funny?” Ambrose asked Jen, “Its not like this is some party.”
“I think it might have something to do with Julius Caesar. What about you?” Jen said dryly.
“The play we’re studying?” Ambrose’s asked. His friend, sitting behind him tittered. “Shut up, Dan,” he said.
Dan kept laughing, “How can you be reading Julius Caesar in English 311 and not understand why Steve is wearing that getup?”
Dr. Lawerence overheard his student’s conversation. He chuckled, ” ‘Beware the Ides of March,’ Ambrose. Remember what I said in Monday’s class?”
Ambrose shook his head, “Eyes of what now?”
The student’s around Ambrose and their professor laughed. Jen sighed. ” Caesar was assassinated on the ‘Ides of March.’ The seer in the play told him to ‘beware’ of it, but he was still stabbed and killed.”
“I thought Brutus murdered Caesar? Now you’re saying a seer did?”
Dr. Lawerence peered at Ambrose concerned, “Are you sure you want to major in English Literature, Ambrose?”
He looked up and shrugged. The professor sighed and returned to the front of the room. There was always one in every class.
” ‘Created by Emily Romano, the brevette consists of a subject (noun), verb, and object (noun), in this exact order. The verb shows an ongoing action – so the letters in the verb should be spaced out. There are only three words in the poem.
Each of the three words may have any number of syllables, but it is desirable that the poem have balance in the choice of these words. Unlike haiku, there are no other rules to follow.'”
“Wow, Dad. Look at that space suit. I want to wear it,” William said to Ben.
“Uh, no. Not happening.”
“This is major Tom to ground control / I’m stepping through the door/ [and] I’m floating in the most peculiar way.”
“Take the headphones from your ears and listen to your son,” Violet chided.
“I’m listening to William. He wants to wear the space suit and I said he can’t. What else can I say?” Ben asked.
“Just stop listening to your iPhone and be present,” Violet said rolling her eyes.
“But I have to finish this song. It’s a classic –the theme song to this museum moment.”
“What song Dad?” William asked curious.
“David Bowie’s ‘Space Oddity.”
“Oh, I love that song, turn it up. Take the headphones out,” Violet said. William nodded in agreement.
They chuckled before singing out loud: “For here am I sitting in a tin can / [far] above the world / [planet] earth is blue / [and] there’s nothing I can do . . .” until they reached the end of the song.
When they had finished the three of them looked up surprised to have everyone present at the museum’s space exhibit applauding their singing.
“Clementine anxiously waited for the 5:40 out of the city, wondering if he would be on board.” It head been two-years since she’d seen Philip. He’d been sent out to fight the Nazis in France. She’d faithfully written to him but Philip hadn’t been able to send many letters back.
After the harrowing footage she’d seen of soldiers fighting on the beaches of Normandy, Clementine wondered if her Philip would be himself; how could he? The train arrived and she continued waiting.
Seconds later Philip was holding her so tightly she couldn’t breath. He cried into her neck,”I thought I’d never see you again.”
“I had no doubt you would,” Clementine whispered back, stroking Philip’s hair as his tears dried.
It was almost as if he’d never been gone; in each other’s arms, they were both home.
Since the beginning of the campaign in the US for the final Republican and Democratic nominees, I haven’t been able to get this poem out of my head. Perhaps I had such a wonderful professor for American Poetry that Robert Frost’s “The Mending Wall,” made such an impression on me.
Thirteen years after I’ve graduated, I still think about this poem and what wisdom Frost imparts to people in his own time and ours. Mainly he suggests his poem is less about literal walls or fences, but about how neighbors should treat each other. Whether you’ve read the poem or not, you may find certain correlations between Frost’s poem and the current political situation in the US.
I think the biggest issue Frost’s poem highlights is why we build walls in the first place. The line at the beginning of the poem: “Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,” implies not all of us enjoy having walls between us and our neighbors (1). Frost isn’t merely talking about physical walls or fences but about the walls that exist in relationships between people.
It’s practical and helpful for to us to avoid petty arguments by having physical fences around our yards. But Frost suggests in “The Mending Wall,” it is not helpful at all, to have walls and distance between people and their relationships with one another. This can cause large rifts between people when they don’t agree or share a similar opinion. Communication and negotiation need to be encouraged, instead of building bigger walls. We forget many other people in this world are the same as us, going through similar trials. It doesn’t matter their religion or ethnicity, we’re all human.
Open communication and friendly communication is a necessary key to life. While physically we may have to “set the wall between us once again,” or have certain boundaries, I don’t recall stone walls every setting to right differences of opinion or thought (14). We can’t stop talking because we don’t agree, reaching for the best compromise available is vital.
Erecting a wall between the US and Mexico will affect US relationships with other nations, not only Mexico. It also makes the US government appear isolationist. Moreover, it affects other countries who would think it was okay to support their own selfish ideologies which are not democratic.
Isolationist countries and governments do not prosper in themselves or in helping their citizens prosper. In today’s world it is critical for us all to have open communication and at times compromise and not always get ‘our own way’ with other countries for the good of all; the current US government goes against this globalized view. Trump stands for himself and if you’re a lucky American who supports a view he does, he might stand for you too. But it’s not something I would count on in a person who is extremely unpredictable.
In Frost’s poem, the lines: “There where it is we do not need the wall: / He is all pine and I am apple orchard. / My apple trees will never get across / [and] eat the cones under his pines, I tell him,” show the utter absurdity of having such a thick solid wall between the narrator and his neighbor (23-27). Frost’s point in these lines is if the speaker and his neighbor acted neighborly, they wouldn’t require a fence between them. It’s absurd to have a wall between them because the narrator’s apples don’t eat his neighbor’s pine cones and vice versa. The neighbor lacks insight into the situation.
He is similar to Trump who wants a wall between the US and Mexico beyond the border which already exists. Trump is akin to the neighbor insisting ” . . . good fences make good neighbors.” Truly walls break down relations between people and invite people to spew hatred and feel they are entitled to act badly and Trump’s actions are encouraging this behavior (27). People have choices to act how their conscience tells them, but when the government decides on input-less actions that destroy relations with other parts of the world and with US citizens, this government is self-serving.
Frost’s speaker also wonders about this wall he and his neighbor always fix in spring. He asks “. . . why do [fences] make good neighbors . . . ” commenting that “[before] I built a wall I’d ask to know / [what] I was walling in or walling out, / [and] to whom I was like to offense” (32-34). For me, these lines are shockingly apt in current US politics.
In Robert Frost’s poem “The Mending Wall,” the wall is not only a physical wall/fence it’s symbolic of relations between neighbors and metaphorical walls between people, in a broader sense, all sovereign nations. Trump insists on building a wall because it will wall out drugs from entering the US. He also believes he is keeping out illegal immigrates as well as crime. I think Frost would say, Trump is missing the bigger picture.
To my knowledge, Obama never had outstanding issues with Mexico. Most of us are aware of the drugs going back and forth across the border from Mexico and the people who want to leave Mexico for a better life. I would argue as many have, one way or another, the immigrants who want to get through are going to find a way through.
We also know for a fact, there are already tunnels to bring drugs into the US. If Trump wants to stop drug cartels from selling drugs, maybe he should focus on his own citizens involved in the purchase and selling of drugs. If you take away the market, perhaps you stop drug trafficking; however, my hunch is if Mexico sells fewer drugs, those who want or need drugs, will find another source.
Additionally, Frost’s line about giving “offense” is relatable to Trump not caring what Mexico thinks about the wall (34). He wants to make them pay for it and he doesn’t care that their President refused. He offended Mexico and its citizens; hopefully, he doesn’t plan on vacationing there anytime soon as many US citizens like to do. He’s going to make it difficult for US citizens wanting to vacation in Mexico and other places around the world in general. I’ve meant many wonderful American citizens on vacations but I know there are places where they still have to wear a Canadain flag on their outfit, so they are not thought be Americans. I would hate for this to be worse because of current affairs.
He’s going to make it difficult for US citizens wanting to vacation in Mexico and other places around the world in general. I’ve met many wonderful American citizens on vacations but I know there are places where they still have to wear a Canadain flag on their outfit, so they are not thought be Americans because it would be dangerous to them or their cash supply. I would hate for this to be worse because of current affairs in the US.
As well, Trump offended the Mexican President who refused to visit the US after Trump announced the wall. He’s set back relations with his physical and symbolic wall with Mexico. I believe US dealings with other countries will suffer setbacks as well because I think other nations will see US actions and be less inclined to trust their government and Trump.
The most curious part to me is how one man can destroy relations with other countries around the word so quickly through his lack of diplomacy and unwillingness to cooperate. I don’t want the US, Canada, or anywhere to be larger targets for radical terrorists or desperate criminals because Trump is blocking people from migrating to the US from the Middle East. Many people there are like us, regular people who don’t deserve to be labeled terrorists due to their religion. Some of those people require help due to actual terrorists such as ISIS, who are making it difficult for them to meet their basic needs.
Frost also writes in his poem about those who don’t love walls and would like them down. His narrator sees no need for the wall and thinks he could tell his neighbor, “‘I could say “Elves” to him, / [but] it’s not elves exactly, and I’d rather / [he] said it for himself (35 – 38). Frost implies the neighbor needs to recognize for himself and ‘say’ for himself, that the physical and metaphorical wall between them is absurd.
I think the same principles apply to Trump and his wall. The wall is a thoughtless law as well as the symbolic breaking down of US relations with other countries such as Mexico and realistically, several others. The current US President won’t ever admit he is wrong.
In the end, I find the situation with Trump and the US government much the same as Frost describes the neighbour in his poem: “In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed./ He moves in darkness as it seems to me, / [not] of woods only and the shade of trees (40 – 42). To the narrator of Frost’s poem, rebuilding the wall between his neighbour and him is a game.
He even wonders if he could put “a notion” in his neighbours head and say “[elves]” made the stones fall out of place (29,37). But to the neighbour such as the US government, this is no game. While the rest of us mock Trump and have “mischief” in us as we read daily what Trump’s decided to do now, we are also somewhat afraid.
Trump walks around as Frost’s speaker’s neighbor, “an old-stone savage armed . . . [moving] in darkness . . . (40-41). This darkness is as an ignorance and not only of “woods . . . and the shade of trees (42).” I cannot imagine all the duties a President has; however, I do know about starting a new job as I’m sure many people can relate to.
Often, it is best to let things be done the way they have been done, to learn the experience and the wisdom behind the methods people use currently, before implementing massive change. At times, we think our own way of doing something is better. Then one day it hits us why something was done a certain way, how much easier it is to keep doing it that particular way. Once you learn how things are done, then changes can be implemented with reason and with experience behind that reasoning.
With US relations with its own citizens and the citizens of the world, we can only hope Trump ends his walk in darkness and ignorance. Perhaps one day he will step into the light and see why past Presidents acted how they did in certain matters? That he was elected by citizens and speaks and acts for them.
It’s my hope he searches beyond his own experience, what he’s been able to do freely as wealthy and powerful man. I hope he listens to the people who elected him and acts with discernment, that he learns to think before he acts. One encouraging thing about Trump I did hear was his admiration of Winston Churchill.
In conclusion, Frost calls his poem “The Mending Wall” because he hopes each year relations with his neighbour will improve, that eventually they won’t need a wall between them. Can we hope this much of the new US government? That they will not build walls to isolate their country? That they will not only think about themselves in this diverse, multicultural, and globalized world? I hope so. I’d hope Trump eventually learns to mend relations with his neighbours and not to snub them or God forbid, cause war. I hope he learns to see beyond the saying, ” . . . [good] fences make good neighbours” (45).