All Day Permanent Red [to Welcome Hector To His Death]

o welcome Hector to his death
God sent a rolling thunderclap across the sky
The city and the sea
And momentarily—
The breezes playing with the sunlit dust—
On either slope a silence fell.

Think of a raked sky-wide Venetian blind.
Add the receding traction of its slats
Of its slats of its slats as a hand draws it up.
Hear the Greek army getting to its feet.

Then of a stadium when many boards are raised
And many faces change to one vast face.
So, where there were so many masks,
Now one Greek mask glittered from strip to ridge.
Already swift
Boy Lutie took Prince Hector's nod
And fired his whip that right and left
Signalled to Ilium's wheels to fire their own,
And to the Wall-wide nodding plumes of Trojan infantry—

Screeching above the grave percussion of their feet
Shouting how they will force the savage Greeks
Back up the slope over the ridge, downplain
And slaughter them beside their ships—

Add the reverberation of their hooves: and
'Reach for your oars. . .'
T'lesspiax, his yard at 60°, sending it
Across the radiant air as Ilium swept
Onto the strip
Into the Greeks
Over the venue where
Two hours ago all present prayed for peace.
And carried Greece
Back up the slope that leads
Via its ridge
Onto the windy plain.

by Christopher Logue

Comments (9)

what? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? /
I can’t figure this out HELP
soke fart on butt? ok.
soke fart on butt? okay.
Last night I had a dream. I won't bore you with a description of the entire dream, but during my dream, I was on a boat in the sea. It seamed like an old sail boat. On the boat with me were two women. I was sitting close to the two women overhearing their conversation. One woman said to the other (what sounded like to me) , I sawed the moor, I'm not doing that again. When I awoke in the morning, this small detail of my entire dream was stuck in my head. The statement of the woman in my dream wasn't extremely odd in itself. But the reason I remembered her statement when I awoke was that I realized I had no idea what she was talking about. I didn't know what saw a moor meant. I can honestly say that before this dream, I have never (consciously) ever heard or read the line saw a moor. I was perplexed. I thought, if my dream is created by my brain, how could such a specific statement, that I have never experienced, show up in my dream? For a few hours that morning I still didn't know what saw a moor meant. I figured it must have something to do with sailing. Later that day I googled the words and was surprised to come across Emily Dickinson's poem. I cannot remember ever reading or hearing of this poem. Until I googled it, I didn't even know what a moor was. The message of the poem was a pleasant surprise and I've taken it as a small reminder of the importance of faith.
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