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Thursday, October 18, 2012 A grey cigarette haze lingered
above the bed like gun smoke
over a battlefield and we,
the casualties of war,
lay beneath. When we kissed
I tasted on her lips
and she said she could see
Manzanar in my eyes.
At times love is a negotiation
between desire and history.

The clock on the bedside table
flashed in dim red numbers
as the battery was nearly spent.
After the passion runs low
there are not many choices;
a long march in the Philippine sun,
a desert cage of spiral concertina wire
or a one last bloddy conflict that ends
with the squeeze of a trigger.

Posted by Steven Marty Grant at 11:26 PM Labels: Bataan, Desert, History, Japan, Japan Earthquake Images, loss, Love, Manzanar, Romance screamin'ian said...

"or the final squeeze..."
felt that.

March 4, 2011 at 4:15 PM 
Astonishing - a striking read. The last line, powerful.

March 4, 2011 at 5:44 PM 
A war of internment. Very clever, and thought provoking write, I'm not sure about my American history, but I'm unsure whether relations between the Americans and the Japanese ever lay comfortably after WW2. Great as always x

March 8, 2011 at 5:33 PM dustus said...

Harrowing depth. Your references are perceptive, literally in sight and taste. Damn good

March 8, 2011 at 5:53 PM Brian Miller said...

whew...yeah when loves battlefield starts leaving casualities or taking hostages...it becomes a tough decision...

March 8, 2011 at 5:55 PM Corbie said...

The battlefield of love, truly a place of loss. Great word choice. I really enjoyed it. Thank you for sharing!

March 8, 2011 at 6:41 PM Steve Isaak said...

Love this kind of writing, where history is EXPERIENCED - via your excellent wordsmithing - rather than talked about.

Great work.

March 8, 2011 at 7:15 PM signed...bkm said...

wonderful historic write Steven...I worked with ladies from the Phillipines...one said her father as a little boy saw his mother shot...they still have not forgotten...war always last much longer than the years outlined in history books....nice writing...bkm

March 8, 2011 at 9:01 PM 
Sweet, I get it now.

March 9, 2011 at 3:14 AM Pete Marshall said...

great read, great write, great descriptions, and a great way of showing how poetry can be written... seriously good poem...pete

March 9, 2011 at 9:33 AM Kim Nelson said...

Melodic and evocative. I particularly like: "At times love is a negotiation
between desire and history."

March 9, 2011 at 11:48 AM Claudia said...

you made something abstract personal..gave war a face and a taste..great write steven..loved the line whenlove is a negotiation
between desire and history..

March 9, 2011 at 12:33 PM Mama Zen said...

This is really impressive. Just a fantastic piece.

March 9, 2011 at 3:30 PM kenny said...

Fabulous. Absolutely. And very well written.

Reminds me of something I read by an Australian, thought I'd send it;


March 9, 2011 at 6:02 PM Beachanny said...

I was "in" it. You damn sure don't "tell". Maybe nothing is fair in love and war. Actually that seems to be what life has taught me. Who said we could have guns and butter anyway?

This is riveting and as everyone else has said your mastery of the language and the metaphor is sensational! (I think you knew that though, didn't you?) Really excellent piece! Gay

March 9, 2011 at 6:50 PM violet said...

Strong beginning - it yanked me into the poem and I couldn't get away. I love this kind of extended metaphor.


March 9, 2011 at 11:42 PM Shashi said...

Its a great one shot. I liked you last line so much. Thanks for sharing...

ॐ नमः शिवाय
Om Namah Shivaya
At Twitter @VerseEveryDay

March 12, 2011 at 7:13 AM amyeverett said...

Very powerful as well. I see how love can be so powerful and strong

October 1, 2011 at 11:28 PM Iremonger Marty JacoBus Quinlan Pickens said...


April 28, 2015 at 5:30 PM Anne Emerson Sharp Block Bloomberg said...

frightful and tense.

April 28, 2015 at 6:08 PM 
powerful account.

May 7, 2015 at 12:36 PM 
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