
THE CURSE OF WAR
Let the wars be only in them
and let only they bleed to exhaustion
but to survive and celebrate victory
over themselves
let their wars keep them alive
and let the riots disturb them at all times
and let the riots boil them into sick brains
like hungry birds pecking grains
and let him quench his bloody thirst
such as quenching quicklime
let them eat their flesh
and because of defeats and victories to exhaustion
and let the war never cease in them
until they destroy themselves
on a day that will not be reminiscent of other victims
so, fight you to whom wars are sacred
you have eaten our meat enough
taste your own now
fight within yourself and drink from your womb
and the poisoned wombs of your mothers
who renounce you in death
and curse the days when they gave birth to you
therefore, worship your shadows today
because tomorrow no one will worship them
if my curse reaches you
you will be saved from new bloodshed
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Ibraham Honjo’s “The Curse of War” is a bitter denunciation of those who set off conflicts, and then watch from the sidelines. He says, “let war never cease in them/ until they destroy themselves.” He’d like to see warmongers “taste your own, now,” and promises that “if my curse reaches you,/ you will be saved from new bloodshed.” This poem is one small voice confronting destruction.