i would like to recommend these people's writing

A. Frances Johnson – “Microaviary”

The man from PR has a brow
like a furrowed dune.
These are unmanned drones
he says in unmanned couplets
that surveil and kill.
He introduces me to a gifted man-child
building wings
that replicate the hovering skills of the hawkmoth.
Tested at 4500 metres
over Helmund province,
it has no smalltalk.
Nor does he.

Full poem here.

For Remembrance Day.

i would like to recommend these people's writing, lines I wish I'd written, poems

“…a ruck of other soldiers died around them.”

                                                       Now Amarinceus’ son
Diores – fate shackled Diores fast and a jagged rock
struck him against his right shin, beside the ankle.
Pirous son of Imbrasus winged it hard and true,
the Thracian chief who had sailed across from Aenus…
the ruthless rock striking the bones and tendons
crushed them to pulp – he landed flat on his back,
slaming the dust, both arms flung out to his comrades,
gasping out his life. Pirous who heaved the rock
came rushing in and speared him up the navel –
his bowels uncoiled, spilling lose on the ground
and the dark came swirling down across his eyes.
                                                                                          But Pirous –
Aetolian Thoas speared him as he swerved and sprang away,
the lancehead piercing his chest above the nipple
plunged deep in his lung, and Thoas, running up,
wrenched the heavy spear from the man’s chest,
drew his blade, ripped him across the belly,
took his life but he could not strip his armour.
Look, there were Pirous’ cohorts bunched in a ring,
Thracians, topknots waving, clutching their long pikes
and rugged, strong and proud as the Trojan Thoas was,
they shoved him back – he gave ground, staggering, reeling.
And so the two lay stretched in the dust, side-by-side,
a lord of Thrace, a lord of Epeans armed in bronze
and a ruck of other soldiers died around them.
                                                                                     And now
no man who waded into that work could scorn it any longer,
anyone still not speared or stabbed by tearing bronze
who whirled into the heart of all that slaughter –
not even if great Athena led him by the hand,
flicking away the weapons hailing down against him.
That day ranks of Trojans, ranks of Achaean fighers
sprawled there side-by-side, facedown in the dust.

– Homer, The Iliad (trans. Robert Fagles, 1990), Book IV, 599-630.

For Remembrance Day.

i would like to recommend these people's writing

W.D. Snodgrass: After Experience Taught Me…

After experience taught me that all the ordinary
Surroundings of social life are futile and vain;

         I’m going to show you something very
         Ugly: someday, it might save your life.
Happy Remembrance Day.

i would like to recommend these people's writing

AD Hope: Inscription for a War

“Stranger, go tell the Spartans we died here obedient to their commands.”
— Inscription at Thermopylae

Linger not, stranger. Shed no tear.
Go back to those who sent us here.

We are the young they drafted out
To wars their folly brought about.

Go tell those old men, safe in bed,
We took their orders and are dead.

 
Happy Remembrance Day.