Lincoln Memorial Poem by Saiom Shriver
Lincoln Memorial
Our father led us up the steps
of the Lincoln Memorial,
reverentially, as if entering
a sacred shrine.
He then began to read to us
the Gettysburg Address and the Second
Inaugural Address as though they were the two
scriptures selected for the service.
He had earlier lose his Ivy League law school degree,
disbarred for having in the 1930's been the first
lawyer in his city to sue the police department
for the beating of black prisoners.
His father had died of malaria in the Spanish American War.
He would go on to lose his only sibling in a freak
boating accident. The Japanese encephalitis shot
compulsory for US soldiers in the late 40's would
erupt into a fullblown Parkinson's Disease, after
generating in him a temperature of 107 degrees.
The following 20 years were spent in increasing
rigidity and for much of it he was bedridden, unable to move his
neck, unable to walk, unable to speak except in a whisper, his
muscles constantly shaking.
The experimental operation to offset Parkinson's
by injecting alcohol directly into brain cells
would take away for awhile his ability
to think at all.
I learned that difference of opinions (on peace and war, e.g.)
has nothing to do with Love.
He ignited his loved ones with his love for Lincoln,
for Jesus, and for the poor and the refugee,
and with the courage to witness for the spiritual
equality of every human being, each
child of the One Parent God.
***************
Footnote:
The carnage of the war, for humans and animals, the hanging of draft resisters,
and many other wartime events have caused endless diversity of opinion on this
war. But in my humble opinion, Lincoln was a great man, a holy man.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 10:16:59 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I really like this poem. It's genuine, authentic, passionate. The simplicity of the opening lines is quite eloquent. Our father led us up the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, reverentially, as if entering a sacred shrine. He then began to read to us the Gettysburg Address and the Second Inaugural Address as though they were the two scriptures selected for the service. Notice I have intentionally recast your lines. I think the poem could be improved immensely by a more carefully ordering of lines. You have a natural rhythm, which your line enjambments don't alway capture. Listen for the rhythm of your breathing. But, all in all, this is simply a splendid poem. Two other suggestions: you might consider revising line 9 to read He had earlier lost his Ivy League degree, Presently it's a bit too long, and the next line makes it clear that it's a law degree. I think, also, you might omit the last three lines. Not that they are ineffective, but they somehow lose their punch. To conclude simply He ignited his loved ones with his love for Lincoln, for Jesus, and for the poor and the refugee, Man, is that not dramatic! I look forward to reading other of your poems. And, oh yes, you too ignite your reader with admiration for your father.