Cursed Tomahawks
an antiwar poem
Towering on the graves of Sand Creek,
Raytheon forms bone-grey
Tomahawk missiles,
from massacred mandibles.
Blood of these women and children
fuel the rocket propelled axe
that erupts from the sea,
like the flamed phoenix,
a rebirth —
a new life in fiery flight.
Resurrected, they soar like golden eagles
once revered —
soar over life-giving pure water,
back into mud brick homes
of native women and children —
burying the cursed hatchet,
awaiting its future blood-fuel.
Source: wikipedia
“missiles / from massacred mandibles” You always do such a great job of pairing sound with emotion! I particularly liked those lines in te opening. The tone was kept up very well throughout!
You’re a master of ambient audio. Really like the panning effect. Coming back to this poem and hearing the commercialization and nonchalance of American bloodthirst in the audio makes it even more compelling and disturbing. Hopefully one day anti-war writing won’t be so relevant.