Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains,--but the best is lost.

The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,
They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
 -  Edna St. Vincent Millay
 
 
 

In the howling wind comes a stinging rain
See it driving nails
Into the souls on the tree of pain
From the firefly, a red orange glow
See the face of fear
Running scared in the valley below
 

Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue
Bullet the blue
 

In the locust wind comes a rattle and hum
Jacob wrestled the angel
And the angel was overcome
You plant a demon seed
You raise a flower of fire
See them burning crosses
See the flames higher and higher
 

Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue sky
Bullet the blue
Bullet the blue
 

This guy comes up to me
His face red like a rose on a thorn bush
Like all the colors of a royal flush
And he's peeling off those dollar bills
Slapping them down
One hundred, two hundred
And I can see those fighter planes
And I can see those fighter planes
Across the mud huts where the children sleep
Through the alleys of a quiet city street
You take the staircase to the first floor
Turn the key and slowly unlock the door
As a man breathes into a saxophone
And through the walls you hear the city groan
Outside is America
Outside is America
 

Across the field you see the sky ripped open
See the rain through a gaping wound
Pounding on the women and children
Who run
Into the arms
Of America
 - U2
 
 

So, if you've read this far... this is about September 11th. I know probably about a billion spillion people have put up aol webpages regarding the events of that date... but somehow I still want to say something. I'd like to talk about the poem and the song I've put up here. The poem I've known since 6th grade, when I read it in a book called Baby by Patricia McLachlan. The character who read the poem in the book read it to help her live through the death of her brother. I've always loved the poem... but now, it just seems more appropriate than it's ever been. The song is a U2 song off of The Joshua Tree, and it was the first song I heard on the radio on September 11th after I came home from school and turned on the computer and the radio... they had been playing news but I guess they took a break from that and started playing music... and they played Bullet the Blue Sky. I immidiately was struck by appropriateness of the title, and of the song... "see the face of fear running scared in the valley below" haunts me every time I hear it. So that song has become a very strong memory for me. I think that in the wake of the attacks, people have been struggling to find something that makes it real to them, helps them to process the shock and relate to the pain... this is what i found. Dirge Without Music and Bullet the Blue Sky serve to remind me that this isn't a nightmare, it's very real... that's important when all you see on the news is osama bin laden ashcroft reservists being called up the taliban george w bush the world trade center the pentagon, over and over again... your mind numbs to it. Poetry and songs have always made people feel real. Now, more than ever, being real is crucial. I hope reading the quotage above has affected you in some way. thanks for reading.