*The images in this specific piece are granted
copyright privilege by: Public Domain, CCSAL, GNU Free Documentation
Licenses, Fair Use Under The United States Copyright Law, or given copyright
privilege by the copyright holder which is identified beneath the individual
photo.
**Some of the links will have to be copied and
then posted in your search engine in order to pull up properly
***This is the fifty-eighth in a never-ending series
called BACKSTORY OF THE POEM where the Chris Rice Cooper Blog (CRC)
focuses on one specific poem and how the poet wrote that specific poem.
All BACKSTORY OF THE POEM links are at the end of this
piece.
#58 Backstory of the
Poem
“BLOCKADE”
“BLOCKADE”
by Brian Burmeister
Can you go through the
step-by-step process of writing this poem from the moment the idea was first
conceived in your brain until final form?
I
started writing “Blockade” more than a decade ago. The humanitarian crisis in
Darfur was at a fever pitch at the time, and the work of New York Times reporter Nicholas Kristof, who widely covered the
situation on the ground, really opened my eyes. The more I learned, the more I
wanted to help.
I kept reading and reading.
Kristof’s articles became a gateway
for me: there were so many great books raising awareness—The Devil Came on Horseback by Brian Steidle and Not on Our Watch by Don Cheadle and John
Prendergast are incredible examples—and they all hit on the idea that the world doesn’t have to be like this. That was the first time I'd ever been moved to activism. And it was during that time I tried, also for the first time, using poetry as a
medium to raise awareness for crucial issues.
This
poem’s story is an amalgamation of many of the heartbreaking tales I’d heard or
read coming out of that region and in other war-torn places on the African
continent. It’s impossible, for instance, to watch Lisa F. Jackson’s
documentary The Greatest Silence
about the unfathomably widespread acceptance and application of rape as an
inherent spoil of war in the Congo, and not simultaneously hate our world while
still loving it so much you want to make it better. “Blockade” is very much
inspired by that film and the brave women who shared their stories in it.
Many
of the poems I wrote at that time tried to focus on one moment, one
interaction, to tell a bigger story. I definitely wasn’t always successful in
these aims, but my hope from the first word I typed of “Blockade” through the
entire editing process, and on to today, was that the poem could spotlight some
of the unforgivable systemic problems faced by victims around the world, while
also recognizing the incredible bravery and humanity of those who have had some
much taken from them yet still choose to risk even more in the name of justice. (Right: Brian Burmeister's writing space. Copyright permission granted by Brian Burmeister for this CRC Blog Post Only)
Were there any lines in
any of your rough drafts of this poem that were not in the final version? And can you share them with us? One of my original intentions with “Blockade” was to
have it function in an expository role at the start of a larger collection of
poems. To this end, the first iteration of “Blockade” consisted of a poem in
two halves: two distinct stories working in tandem to provide a foundation for
the types of tragedies that live on long past the perpetrated violence. As I
began assembling and arranging poems for what would become The Things We Did, All the Things that We Do, I made several tough
choices and saw my vision repeatedly change. Amidst the other poems, I no
longer felt the first half of “Blockade”—which was a found poem from the
documentary film Darfur Now—added any
content or themes which were missing elsewhere, and the immediate tone of
powerlessness in that section was one I ultimately decided against. What was
the first half of “Blockade” eventually became entirely removed from the poem.
The
following is how “Blockade” once began:
This humiliation was started by the government.
Now we’re
helpless.
I was shot.
I was shot in my
leg and went to the government seeking help.
White doctors
came to treat us
And the
government said,
“No.”
They came to
treat us and the government said,
“You cannot help
these people.”
Now,
Everything, all
Is between you
and your Creator.
That is too much.
What do you want readers of this poem to take from
this poem? My hope is that The Things We Did, All the Things that We Do helps not only raise
awareness of important issues, but raises funds to support those whose lives
have been permanently altered by war. To that end, I
have pledged to donate 100% of my proceeds from the book to the
World Food Programme, which did and continues to do
great work for displaced persons around
the world.
Has this poem been
published before? And if so where? Yes, “Blockade” originally appeared in Verse
Virtual alongside a few other poems in this series.
Anything you would like to add? I’d be remiss if I didn’t credit the influence and
impact of poet and activist Heather Derr-Smith on my work. She was an
invaluable mentor through the writing of “Blockade” and other poems in this
collection. Her first book, Each End of the World, which is largely set
in the aftermath of the Bosnian War and genocide, shaped my understanding of
how poems can simultaneously work for effect in isolation and collectively, as
well as awakened me to the power of poetry of witness.
BLOCKADE
We told the police what they did,
and the officers nodded,
smiled.
They ripped
our clothes,
we said. They made us walk
naked in front of
all their men.
Their
general smoked
as we walked,
and he smiled, too.
We told the police this,
kept talking,
said the things our mothers
told us not to say.
These men we told,
they nodded.
No questions.
Their
hands held paper,
and nothing would they write.
Thank you, they said and moved us
away.
But do you know our names?
They placed their hands on our backs, pushed us
away.
But do you know our names?
(“Blockade
is inspired by and contains words from the documentary The Greatest Silence)
Brian Burmeister is an educator living in Iowa.
While earning his MFA in Creative Writing and Environment from Iowa State
University, he was President of Ames-ISU for Darfur. His debut collection of
poetry, The Things We Did, All the Things
that We Do is currently available for preorders from Finishing Line Press. For more
information on him or his work, please visit his author website. He can be followed on Twitter @bdburmeister. (Left: Brian Burmeister in his writing space. January 10, 2019. Copyright permission granted by Brian Burmeister for this CRC Blog Post Only)
BACKSTORY OF THE POEM
LINKS
001 December 29, 2017
Margo
Berdeshevksy’s “12-24”
002 January 08, 2018
Alexis
Rhone Fancher’s “82 Miles From the Beach, We Order The Lobster At Clear Lake
Café”
003 January 12, 2018
Barbara
Crooker’s “Orange”
004 January 22, 2018
Sonia
Saikaley’s “Modern Matsushima”
005 January 29, 2018
Ellen
Foos’s “Side Yard”
006 February 03, 2018
Susan
Sundwall’s “The Ringmaster”
007 February 09, 2018
Leslea
Newman’s “That Night”
008 February 17, 2018
Alexis
Rhone Fancher “June Fairchild Isn’t Dead”
009 February 24, 2018
Charles
Clifford Brooks III “The Gift of the Year With Granny”
010 March 03, 2018
Scott
Thomas Outlar’s “The Natural Reflection of Your Palms”
011 March 10, 2018
Anya
Francesca Jenkins’s “After Diane Beatty’s Photograph “History Abandoned”
012 March 17, 2018
Angela
Narciso Torres’s “What I Learned This Week”
013 March 24, 2018
Jan
Steckel’s “Holiday On ICE”
014 March 31, 2018
Ibrahim
Honjo’s “Colors”
015 April 14, 2018
Marilyn
Kallett’s “Ode to Disappointment”
016 April 27, 2018
Beth
Copeland’s “Reliquary”
017 May 12, 2018
Marlon
L Fick’s “The Swallows of Barcelona”
018 May 25, 2018
Juliet
Cook’s “ARTERIAL DISCOMBOBULATION”
019 June 09, 2018
Alexis
Rhone Fancher’s “Stiletto Killer. . . A Surmise”
020 June 16, 2018
Charles
Rammelkamp’s “At Last I Can Start Suffering”
021 July 05, 2018
Marla
Shaw O’Neill’s “Wind Chimes”
022 July 13, 2018
Julia Gordon-Bramer’s
“Studying Ariel”
023 July 20, 2018
Bill Yarrow’s “Jesus
Zombie”
024 July 27, 2018
Telaina Eriksen’s “Brag
2016”
025 August 01, 2018
Seth Berg’s “It is only
Yourself that Bends – so Wake up!”
026 August 07, 2018
David Herrle’s “Devil In
the Details”
027 August 13, 2018
Gloria Mindock’s “Carmen
Polo, Lady Necklaces, 2017”
028 August 21, 2018
Connie Post’s “Two
Deaths”
029 August 30, 2018
Mary Harwell Sayler’s
“Faces in a Crowd”
030 September 16, 2018
Larry Jaffe’s “The
Risking Point”
031 September 24,
2018
Mark Lee Webb’s “After
We Drove”
032 October 04, 2018
Melissa Studdard’s
“Astral”
033 October 13, 2018
Robert Craven’s “I Have
A Bass Guitar Called Vanessa”
034 October 17, 2018
David Sullivan’s “Paper
Mache Peaches of Heaven”
035 October 23, 2018
Timothy Gager’s
“Sobriety”
036 October 30, 2018
Gary Glauber’s “The
Second Breakfast”
037 November 04, 2018
Heather Forbes-McKeon’s
“Melania’s Deaf Tone Jacket”
038 November 11, 2018
Andrena Zawinski’s
“Women of the Fields”
039 November 00, 2018
Gordon Hilger’s “Poe”
040 November 16, 2018
Rita Quillen’s “My
Children Question Me About Poetry” and “Deathbed Dreams”
041 November 20, 2018
Jonathan Kevin Rice’s
“Dog Sitting”
042 November 22, 2018
Haroldo Barbosa Filho’s
“Mountain”
043 November 27, 2018
Megan Merchant’s “Grief
Flowers”
044 November 30, 2018
Jonathan P Taylor’s
“This poem is too neat”
045 December 03, 2018
Ian Haight’s “Sungmyo
for our Dead Father-in-Law”
046 December 06, 2018
Nancy Dafoe’s “Poem in
the Throat”
047 December 11, 2018
Jeffrey Pearson’s
“Memorial Day”
048 December 14, 2018
Frank Paino’s “Laika”
049 December 15, 2018
Jennifer Martelli’s “Anniversary”
O50 December 19, 2018
Joseph Ross’s “For Gilberto Ramos, 15, Who Died in
the Texas Desert, June 2014”
051 December 23, 2018
“The Persistence of
Music”
by Anatoly Molotkov
052 December 27, 2018
“Under Surveillance”
by Michael Farry
053 December 28, 2018
“Grand Finale”
by Renuka Raghavan
054 December 29, 2018
“Aftermath”
by Gene Barry
055 January 2, 2019
“&”
by Larissa Shmailo
056 January 7, 2019
“The Seamstress:
by Len Kuntz
057 January 10, 2019
"Natural History"
by Camille T Dungy
058 January 11, 2019
“BLOCKADE”
by Brian Burmeister
