woefully remiss

So, I didn't actually post too many poems for National Poetry Month after all.

I just started rereading my favorite epic poem, so I will conclude the month with the first few lines of Homer's Iliad (the Lattimore translation):

"Sing, goddess, the anger of Peleus' son Achilleus
and its devastation, which put pains thousandfold upon the Achaians,
hurled in their multitudes to the house of Hades strong souls
of heroes, but gave their bodies to be the delicate feasting
of dogs, of all birds, and the will of Zeus was accomplished
since that time when first there stood in division of conflict
Atreus' son the lord of men and brilliant Achilleus."

Y'know, having typed that, I have to wonder -- not for the first time -- how it is that I, a woman who believes so strongly in peace can love this bloody bit of warfare poetry so passionately... As ever, when faced with this conundrum, I shall smile and quote Whitman, "Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes."

So, there.