Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Paul Perry

GUNPOWDER VALENTINE

GUNPOWDER VALENTINE

GUNPOWDER VALENTINE

I.

I went there too
I did not have to go
I saw the best of men

clearing the villages was awful
we hated ourselves for that
in the streets we found

maddened cows dripping
with milk
bellowing in pain

it was something terrible
I saw a cat in a window
I thought it was an ornament

then I saw that it was alive
I killed the cat
I got used to killing

forgive us
we found notes nailed
to the doors of houses

be careful we’ll be back
don’t kill our cat
our house we are sorry

for leaving you
cold and alone
I came home

my wife was frightened
she insisted I throw my clothes away
I did that

all except for my hat
it had a badge on the front
and my son I knew would like it

he was proud of me
he went around wearing this hat
some nights he wore it in bed

one year after that time
he fell ill
it was a brain tumour

that was it
I can say
no more


II.

I dream about it every night
we arrived at 6 a.m.
we told them to leave everything

they cried
as if they knew
they would never return

they offered us moonshine
everything was negotiable
we bartered cattle

they were sold cheap
Nature was dying
the houses were like works of art

empty now
the shadow of madness
was on us all


III.

we lifted the topsoil

the burial grounds were open pits

we stripped the earth and orchards

do not have children they told us

at night we drank

we drank hard

we slept in beds of straw


IV.

we gathered at the train station
it was May
we had been chosen

our work was secret
the mood was fun
we were conscripts

and were called tourists
from the trains we saw the fields
change from green

to something more lunar
white dolomite sand covered
miles of field where the green

earth  had once been
we knew then something
was very wrong

the roofs had the names of women
Katya Natasha Anna
Marsha was the mad one

she was cut open like a wound
we stopped laughing
after we arrived in hell


V.

they bent to the water
but did not drink


VI.

the garden all dressed
in wedding white
my hives over there

under the apple trees
I said to Nina my wife
what? wrong

I put on my mask
and checked
they were there

sitting in the hives
not making a sound
there was no buzzing

so strange was their silence


VII.

the rain was black
and one by one the children fell
I will never forget the mornings

the girls had ribbons in their hair
the boys wore shorts
inside I am empty

I have seen and heard too much
I was happy once
the children came from love

our lives are a long winter
without Spring
we bury the children? clothes in dirt


VIII.

we came carrying birch and rowan

a storm broke

dust entered our mouths and eyes

like a black wing

we went on singing

the rivers are our enemies

picking strawberries is not allowed

or bluebells or daisies or mushrooms

the village is buried

in a bitter dream 
Close

GUNPOWDER VALENTINE

I.

I went there too
I did not have to go
I saw the best of men

clearing the villages was awful
we hated ourselves for that
in the streets we found

maddened cows dripping
with milk
bellowing in pain

it was something terrible
I saw a cat in a window
I thought it was an ornament

then I saw that it was alive
I killed the cat
I got used to killing

forgive us
we found notes nailed
to the doors of houses

be careful we’ll be back
don’t kill our cat
our house we are sorry

for leaving you
cold and alone
I came home

my wife was frightened
she insisted I throw my clothes away
I did that

all except for my hat
it had a badge on the front
and my son I knew would like it

he was proud of me
he went around wearing this hat
some nights he wore it in bed

one year after that time
he fell ill
it was a brain tumour

that was it
I can say
no more


II.

I dream about it every night
we arrived at 6 a.m.
we told them to leave everything

they cried
as if they knew
they would never return

they offered us moonshine
everything was negotiable
we bartered cattle

they were sold cheap
Nature was dying
the houses were like works of art

empty now
the shadow of madness
was on us all


III.

we lifted the topsoil

the burial grounds were open pits

we stripped the earth and orchards

do not have children they told us

at night we drank

we drank hard

we slept in beds of straw


IV.

we gathered at the train station
it was May
we had been chosen

our work was secret
the mood was fun
we were conscripts

and were called tourists
from the trains we saw the fields
change from green

to something more lunar
white dolomite sand covered
miles of field where the green

earth  had once been
we knew then something
was very wrong

the roofs had the names of women
Katya Natasha Anna
Marsha was the mad one

she was cut open like a wound
we stopped laughing
after we arrived in hell


V.

they bent to the water
but did not drink


VI.

the garden all dressed
in wedding white
my hives over there

under the apple trees
I said to Nina my wife
what? wrong

I put on my mask
and checked
they were there

sitting in the hives
not making a sound
there was no buzzing

so strange was their silence


VII.

the rain was black
and one by one the children fell
I will never forget the mornings

the girls had ribbons in their hair
the boys wore shorts
inside I am empty

I have seen and heard too much
I was happy once
the children came from love

our lives are a long winter
without Spring
we bury the children? clothes in dirt


VIII.

we came carrying birch and rowan

a storm broke

dust entered our mouths and eyes

like a black wing

we went on singing

the rivers are our enemies

picking strawberries is not allowed

or bluebells or daisies or mushrooms

the village is buried

in a bitter dream 

GUNPOWDER VALENTINE

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Nederlands Letterenfonds
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Lira fonds
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Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
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Veerhuis
VDM
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