Open Poetry #49 |
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The Stick Man |
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Cari Member Posts 411 Englnand |
The Stick Man * * I found a feast today In a bin, discarded No maggots to share with I can live for days Careful now, tread softly ~ Next to me She talks But says nothing Women are not for real They’re the stuff of dreams ~ Yet I feel her warmth beside me If I reached for her She would vanish Like before ~ Is this death Do I look into Hell, Through a window? Where are the others Where are the stick men? * * * This poem was inspired by an old uncle of mine, a prisoner of the Japanese on the Burma railroad. Though he survived he remained a figure in the shadows. For the rest of his short life he would scavenge in waste bins and hide the scraps of food he found there. * * If you find the title confusing then look up the pictures of the few survivors of the Japanese prisoner camps. |
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
Not confusing at all to me, Cari. I also had an uncle who survived (barely) the Bataan Death March and then was taken to Japan and imprisoned there until the end of the war. He was not the same uncle when he came home as the one he was when he left. He died, alone and forsaken in an old folks home. |
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DaysofView Member
since 2014-04-01
Posts 433Just A Slice Of The Pie |
That's terrible sad Jerrypat and Cari! How those men suffered! Very sad to read but skillfully done to be sure! If I were more than I am, I'd see things differently instead of the same all the time. |
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ice Member Elite
since 2003-05-17
Posts 3404Pennsylvania |
"This poem was inspired by an old uncle of mine, a prisoner of the Japanese on the Burma railroad." I too, had an uncle like this..was told he was captured by the Japanese military during WW2. I lived with him, and other uncles, aunts, and cousins in a huge old farmhouse. He was always grumpy-we kids (9 of us) wondered why, when he came home from work he would stare out of the kitchen window-just stare (never speaking) until dinner time, after which he would go to his room, and dissapear until the next work day. Your poem has instilled in me the thought that he might have been seeing stick men out in the yard? Excellent poetry, as always. "Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance." Carl Sandburg |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
a nice poem of substance...james |
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Ari Squire Member Posts 488 In The Phallus Lane |
What men do to men when given the opportunity. A uniform and some form of allegiance or another to occupy ones' mind. "Just followed orders", the perps say with a deadpan expression. Keep those blood-soaked flags of nations waving to show how proud we are of our differences. More feelings and fewer words please |
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Cari Member Posts 411 Englnand |
Thank you everyone. Have you seen the old man Outside the Seaman's Mission Memory fading with the medal ribbons that he wears In our winter city, The rain cries a little pity For one more forgotten hero And a world that doesn't care Ralph McTell - Streets Of London * Says it all. * * |
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