s/o Art Responses to the War in Ukraine

[regentrude]

I did not want to put this in the Ukraine discussion thread, so here's a spin-off.

Many of us are deeply affected by the war - even if we are a safe distance away. We feel disoriented, powerless, afraid. We may turn to Art to process, to bear witness, to share experience, to hold space. I invite you here to share art (yours or that of others) to respond and reflects.

Today I attended a two hour long Zoom reading by Ukrainian poets and their translators. There were over 800 people from all over the world attending! You can listen to this amazing reading here:

https://www.facebook.com/jkolch/videos/472028897991103/?__cft__[0]=AZVbVrJSGsLPdttIJrZVVnPnXPl5_akJspdgv5oigJaMEyDVBKrWE_qTgDULkG3rbu-t3txbDKU05eMxt2BH4XIpNg17kO3MlztAFtUFsnWUR1C8SFtdh7ry0ultWZjz0udv3Ttdd4mKEztGVFda458p&__tn__=-UK-R

Edited March 1, 2022 by regentrude

[Spy Car]

A freshly painted mural in Paris:

Bill

 

[regentrude]

And I'll also share one of my own poems, written on Friday.

We have seen it coming

We have seen the boulder roll down the mountain in slow motion.
We have seen the parallels.
We have seen history repeating itself.
We have had the nightmares.

           My mother’s memories are unhealed by therapy. She was too little to understand why they were hiding in bomb shelters.
           Years later, she still flinches at the sound of an airplane. At eighty, she is afraid. The monster has been hiding under her bed all these years.

We have prayed for peace before.
We have lit candles.
We have chanted. And wondered all the while:
when has a candle ever saved a life?

         The tips of the hyacinths show green in the snow. I curl in my chair in my warm house. I close my eyes.

I see children huddled in basements.
I see women carrying babies, bundles of possessions tied to their backs.
I see my grandmother fleeing across Europe. My aunt is sixteen, flirts with the soldiers. They invite her into their compartment. That’s how grandma and mom get on the train.

         I remember the onion domes of the cave monastery in Kyiv, golden
         in the February snow.
         I weep.

[Spy Car]

In Cardiff, UK:

 

Bill

 

[Spy Car]

Lidiya Zhuravlyova, a Ukrainian performance artist, takes part in an anti-war protest in Bangkok on February 27

 

[lmrich]

This speaks to me so loudly!! Thank you for sharing. I am going to rewrite my lesson plans for tomorrow to include Ukranian poetry. 

[regentrude]

41 minutes ago, lmrich said:

This speaks to me so loudly!! Thank you for sharing. I am going to rewrite my lesson plans for tomorrow to include Ukranian poetry. 

Here are a few links from poets who contributed to this reading:

http://l.academicstudiespress.com/borderlines/poem/decomposition_ukr

https://lareviewofbooks.org/short-takes/ukrainian-poems-of-war-khersonsky-kiva-makhno

 

 

[mommyoffive]

I love the art Spy Car!

[lmrich]

1 hour ago, regentrude said:

Here are a few links from poets who contributed to this reading:

http://l.academicstudiespress.com/borderlines/poem/decomposition_ukr

https://lareviewofbooks.org/short-takes/ukrainian-poems-of-war-khersonsky-kiva-makhno

 

 

thank you!!

[Melissa Louise]

Oh, I've got one too, but more diffuse - natural disaster + nuclear war. Will add when I'm on my laptop. Thank you Regentrude for sharing!

[Condessa]

An artist on Facebook under the name of “I draw childhood cancer.” made this for the sick kids still stuck in the basement of the children’s hospital in Kharkiv, now with no power.

[Mrs Tiggywinkle]

On 3/1/2022 at 5:24 PM, regentrude said:

And I'll also share one of my own poems, written on Friday.

We have seen it coming

We have seen the boulder roll down the mountain in slow motion.
We have seen the parallels.
We have seen history repeating itself.
We have had the nightmares.

           My mother’s memories are unhealed by therapy. She was too little to understand why they were hiding in bomb shelters.
           Years later, she still flinches at the sound of an airplane. At eighty, she is afraid. The monster has been hiding under her bed all these years.

We have prayed for peace before.
We have lit candles.
We have chanted. And wondered all the while:
when has a candle ever saved a life?

         The tips of the hyacinths show green in the snow. I curl in my chair in my warm house. I close my eyes.

I see children huddled in basements.
I see women carrying babies, bundles of possessions tied to their backs.
I see my grandmother fleeing across Europe. My aunt is sixteen, flirts with the soldiers. They invite her into their compartment. That’s how grandma and mom get on the train.

         I remember the onion domes of the cave monastery in Kyiv, golden
         in the February snow.
         I weep.

I love this. Would you mind PM’ing the names of our poetry collections so I can read more?

[regentrude]

46 minutes ago, Mrs Tiggywinkle said:

I love this. Would you mind PM’ing the names of our poetry collections so I can read more?

PM sent. Thank you so much. JUST had a new book come out 🙂

Edited March 3, 2022 by regentrude

[Faith-manor]

48 minutes ago, Mrs Tiggywinkle said:

I love this. Would you mind PM’ing the names of our poetry collections so I can read more?

I would also like to read more as well! I would be thrilled to buy your new book.

[El...]

20 minutes ago, regentrude said:

PM sent. Thank you so much. JUST had a new book come out 🙂

Me too, please!

[Hannah]

@regentrude  Your poem is very powerful!  Me too please for details of your books.