my burg

I've enjoyed reading and pondering these two poems by the Irish poet, William Butler Yeats (1865--1939) ...  THE VALLEY OF THE BLACK PIG The dews drop slowly and dreams gather: unknown spears  Suddenly hurtle before my dream-awakened eyes,  And then the clash of fallen horsemen and the cries  Of unknown perishing armies beat about my ears.  We who still labour by the cromlech on the shore,  The grey cairn on the hill, when day sinks drowned in dew,  Being weary of the world's empires, bow down to you,  Master of the still stars and of the flaming door. Here is a brief analysis .  THE LOVER TELLS OF THE ROSE IN HIS HEART  All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old,  The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering cart,  The heavy steps of the ploughman, splashing the wintry mould,  Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.  The wrong of unshapely things is a wro...

It was the spring of 1970 and the war in Vietnam was in full swing, as were the protests around the country.   In April of that year, U.S. and South Vietnamese forces expanded military operations into Cambodia, and students on campuses across our nation erupted in protest. On May 4, the Ohio National Guard, called out to disperse a crowd on the Kent State University campus, opened fire upon the student gathering, killing four and wounding nine. Campus protests across the country responded with more violence.  It was a serious and intense time. Young people were being killed both in the jungles of Vietnam and on American campuses.  At Virginia Tech, an academic building, Williams Hall, was occupied by protestors. I was there, and I was supportive, though I was not in the building at the time the arrests were made. When the police arrived (in full riot gear) I was at the front door of the building and was told to move, which I did not do. An officer got behind me and w...