this diary is dedicated to all who suffer because of war
we love and support our troops, just as we love and support the Iraqi people - without exception, or precondition, or judgment
we have no sympathy for the devil.
we acknowledge the power to act that is in us
image and poem below the fold
(RubDMC's daily intro)
An Afghan widow and beggar pours herself a cup of tea on a roadside in Kabul on December 21, 2006. (REUTERS/Stringer/afghanistan)
British soldiers from 63 Squadron of the Royal Air Force Regiment drive past children scavenging in refuse as they patrol in the northern suburbs of the southern Iraqi city of Basra, 07 January 2007. (AFP/File/Dave Clark)
A man sifts through the rubble of a destroyed house after Tuesday's clashes in Haifa Street in Baghdad, January 10, 2007. (Stringer/Reuters)
Beat! Beat! Drums!
by Walt Whitman
Beat! beat! drums! - blow! bugles! blow!
Through the windows - through doors - burst like a ruthless force,
Into the solemn church, and scatter the congregation,
Into the school where the scholar is studying;
Leave not the bridegroom quiet - no happiness must he have now with his bride,
Nor the peaceful farmer any peace, ploughing his field or gathering his grain,
So fierce you whirr and pound you drums - so shrill you bugles blow.
Beat! beat! drums! - blow! bugles! blow!
Over the traffic of cities - over the rumble of wheels in the streets;
Are beds prepared for sleepers at night in the houses? no sleepers must sleep in those beds,
No bargainers' bargains by day - no brokers or speculators - would they continue?
Would the talkers be talking? would the singer attempt to sing?
Would the lawyer rise in the court to state his case before the judge?
Then rattle quicker, heavier drums - you bugles wilder blow.
Beat! beat! drums! - blow! bugles! blow!
Make no parley - stop for no expostulation,
Mind not the timid - mind not the weeper or prayer,
Mind not the old man beseeching the young man,
Let not the child's voice be heard, nor the mother's entreaties,
Make even the trestles to shake the dead where they lie awaiting the hearses,
So strong you thump O terrible drums - so loud you bugles blow.
Note: anniethena’s diary from yesterday is here. anniethena and I are alternating in posting this diary daily until RubDMCreturns on January 14, so look for one by anniethena tomorrow.