Sunday, 5 October 2014

Original Poem Series - Fading photo

Fading photo

The battleground lay,

Scattered with men

Like a field of dull ridged leaves.

The hollow, flaky,

Forgotten bodies

Stain the lifeless ground.

Killer clouds and flying bullets

Have swiped their lives away.

Many lay

Clutching their necks,

Searching

For God, for help



This is my story,

My frozen story

That will eventually

Fade away.

The soldiers will haze

And the massacre ground will pale.

But all should pass on

me spiritually

to your children.

And all should keep my forever message;

Remembering is a must,

Remembering is a responsibility.

Thursday, 2 October 2014

ANNOTATED POEM - FREE SHOES

Free shoes

The free pair of shoes stand in rows,

polished and black like coffins for small pets,

Lined with white.The evacuated children

Sit in rows eyeing the pairs,

Child after child after child, no parents

Anywhere near. When it's their turn,

They get a pair of new shoes

And the old ones are taken away.




Of course it is kind of the nice people

To give them the shoes. Of course it is better

To be here than where buildings

Explode and hurl down pieces of children.

Of course, of course. This life that has been

Given them like a task! This life, This love-

Black bright narrow broken-in shoe.


ANNOTATED POEM - Remembering is our Duty

Remembering is our duty

Let no one take the memories we cherish

Let no one break the cycle of remembrance

The trivial, the everyday

These fragments that make up our lives

Let no one taint the memories we cherish


Let's celebrate the art of not forgetting

Let's celebrate the art of total recall

The past that makes up our present

The present that's our future

Let's celebrate the art of not forgetting




ANNOTATED POEM - Children in wartime

Children in wartime

Sirens ripped open

The warm silk of sleep


We ricocheted to the shelter


Moalted by streets


That ran with darkness.


People said it was a storm,


But flak


Had not the right sound


For rain;


Thunder left such huge craters


Of silence,


We knew this was no giant


playing bowls.


And later,


When I saw the jars of glass,


Where once had hung My window spun with stars;


It seemed the clear sky


Lay broken on the floor.