Saturday, December 12, 2015

Hope, Despair ~~ A bit of "Micro Poetry" (and history)


Jailed man picture: Nicolas Fouquet and replica prison cell in the
Vaux-le-Vicomte cellar. (see below—
click on picture to enlarge)

Click here (my 2010 blog post) for the story of Nicolas Fouquet

Hope and Despair
 
Through the grains of sand I peer 
Freedom's not far, though I fear 
For sure it won't be escape, 
unless. A saw in my cake 

Grains of sand, where is my gem 
Shackles and chains, crime's emblem 
Fortunes were made, came prestige 
All I have, here, loathed vestige 

Friends are gone, won't loosen chains 
Hope is nill, not in these grains 
_ _ _ _ 
Poem and Photo Copyright © 2015 and 2010 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
Sandgrains picture below from Kerry's post, click on her name below:

I'm linked with 
To see the world in a grain of sand...
William Blake

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13 Comments:

At Saturday, December 12, 2015 4:34:00 PM, Blogger brudberg said...

What despair in that prison cell.. I could feel the weight of all those grains on top of his despair.

 
At Saturday, December 12, 2015 6:59:00 PM, Blogger Debi Swim said...

You do describe the picture well - what hopelessness.

 
At Sunday, December 13, 2015 7:31:00 AM, Blogger Yvonne Osborne said...

Oh dismal life. How can anyone work in a prison? I'd rather work in a coal mine.

 
At Sunday, December 13, 2015 7:44:00 AM, Blogger Kerry O'Connor said...

Excellent narrative, Jim. I especially like the closing couplet.

 
At Sunday, December 13, 2015 8:24:00 AM, Blogger kaykuala said...

So much drama of despair for those behind bars. One may not feel the traumatic experience unless in their shoes.

Hank

 
At Sunday, December 13, 2015 8:32:00 AM, Blogger Magaly Guerrero said...

The moment I read of "sand" so close to food (cake), I thought of crunchy eggs... There is always dried and dusty (and haunting) about food in the field.

 
At Sunday, December 13, 2015 1:40:00 PM, Blogger Sherry Blue Sky said...

What a story this is! I cant imagine the spirit it takes to endure such circumstances. And yet, people do.

 
At Sunday, December 13, 2015 3:32:00 PM, Blogger Hannah said...

Grim.

 
At Sunday, December 13, 2015 10:03:00 PM, OpenID purplepeninportland said...

I could feel the weight and despair in this poem. Every bar, a million grains of sand.

 
At Sunday, December 13, 2015 10:08:00 PM, Blogger Other Mary said...

What a dark tale. How does one keep hope alive in such circumstance?

 
At Monday, December 14, 2015 12:02:00 AM, Blogger Gillena Cox said...

to think, despair is, for many many a reality; well penned Jim

much love...

 
At Monday, December 14, 2015 1:00:00 AM, Blogger Margaret said...

... brought low after having so much. He has all the time in the world to count each speck on his cell wall. I can't even imagine the torture...

 
At Monday, December 14, 2015 7:03:00 AM, Blogger Outlawyer said...

Your tale is a legend told in ballad with the rhyme and meter--a precautionary tale. I used to love an old song called the prisoner's song when I was a child--so poignant. --agh. k .

 

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