Morning had Risen
Morning had risen, now the long drive home
Thinking of the night just ended, futile
Futility, chasing demons away
Rats crawled on his skin, up and down his legs
Love of country made him brave but what for
Night after night sleep came in small pieces
Awake for hours, solitary thoughts
Reeking damp hole, months were years, days no end
He'd stopped and wretched his gutty green again
Like in the night last night, drinks were too much
Empty his soul, get rid of those monsters
Made him bleed and cry. And yell, days of old
War had ended but not over for him
The why of last night. Liquor was flowing
Loud music to make ones forget their day
It didn't work for him, the rats still crawled
.
.
- - - -
Photos and Poem Copyright, © 2015 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
.
Tonight I'm writing for Heaven at
- There she told of the African poet, Wole Soyinka. Soyinka was an activist in the fight against Nigerian tyrannical rule after their independence from Britain.
In 1967 he was arrested for writings sympathetic to secessionist Biafra and was imprisoned for twenty-two months.
- We were to read a poem, or more, of his and write what came to mind. Soyinka's poem, "In the Wee Hours" (link), and "Dedication" (link) were fodder for what I wrote. Also Wikipedia and Heaven's write-up about Wole Soyinka gave me more insight.
- You might wish to read a little his works or more about him from these links.
- Dr. Leeds is 80 years old and has written and taught for most of his life. He holds honorary doctorates from Leeds, Harvard, and Princeton. In 1986 Soyinka was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature.
- Another 'Brief Bio' and links to a couple other of his poems are here.
.
Labels: Personal-Challenge-2015, Poem, Real Toads, Syllabic Form, Tuesday Platform
12 Comments:
Sadly for these soldiers, trauma continues that not even the drinks can cure. That ending line gave me the creeps. Thanks for linking up Jim and wishing you happy weekend.
Night after night sleep came in small pieces ... and the ending.... makes me think of when my son came back from Iraq. I'm so thankful he made it through the anger and hurt to where he is today.
Thanks, Jim--a favorite of yours--if a very sad one--my stepson back from Afghanistan--all very difficult, though he is a strong person. Thanks. k. (Manicddaily)
The rats crawling - what a disturbing pictures.. War is a terrible companion through the night, and numbness from the booze is not the best.
This has an unsettling effect...written well!
What a chilling poem. Very well done.
This is a moving portrait, one that is becoming increasingly familiar as so many men are impelled into combat. This, I think, is my favourite of your poems. It really spoke to me.
Beautiful rendering of a dark subject
"the rats still crawled"---ooooh, that is such a haunting ending....the kind that just stays with you!
War never ends it seems for those who've seen its horror. A powerful piece written for an unfortunate truth.
Sad truth but we have to face it.
The wrenching effects of wars. Sad!
Post a Comment
<< Home