fields of loss

Hello, field of loss. You’ve been a story of so much waste.

*
from “A Theory of Windows” by Jessica Bixel

I was inspired by the lines from the above poem (and some pretty wild thoughts). This is a prompt from the Bibliomancy Oracle. It can work in heart-breaking ways.

pencil sketch by dsnake1



fields of loss


cat excavators are lifting soil and
bones and gun cartridges
teeth and fragments of clothing
workers are measuring the ditch
they wrap bandanas over their noses

this field
this field where the grass now grows over
slick with dew
this field where the dust is blown from
the bombed houses
it is cold when it rains
it is colder then when the men
and women
were mowed down
like grass.

their names whispered in anguish
like a cursed chant
auschwitz wounded knee babi yar my lai
the tears like rain could not
stop on cheeks to grass
the rain slipping off fatigues
the rain dripping off rifle muzzles
the terrified gaze of those
about to embrace the

earth

so long, fields of loss
you are a story of so many excuses
you are the mouth of so many lies
you are the child who knows no love


28/05/2021
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Rosemary at Poets and Storytellers United would like us to "to share something of your own landscape with us". I wouldn't know if the above poem can qualify as a "landscape". What also prompted this poem is a historical marker erected at the side of my former work place. It marks a massacre and mass grave site of civilians during the Second World War.

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Dragon's Dogma : Dark Arisen -- Main Title Theme

Dragon's Dogma is a copyrighted video game published by Capcom.

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

when angels fall

do we understand one's inhumanity to another, because of race, religion or beliefs?

photo by Comfreak at pixabay



when angels fall



If the rain that fall
are the tears of heaven
then it falls on the grasses
in the ravine at Babi Yar
on the ashes and bones that are
the herded naked
men women children
to the abattoir
and it falls on the barbed wires
and light towers at Auschwitz
on the pleas and screams
from locked chambers
the choking and
the gassed
and it splatters
on the blood-stained walls
at Tuol Sleng
screams in the corridors
as fingernails are pulled out
then the abused bodies hung on walls
where now row upon rows of
portraits of the dead stare back
their dead eyes
dead
mournful
and the rain
it is falling
on the hobnail boots of the demons
that are trampling on
the corpses of the angels...


21/04/2018
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"If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face - forever."

-George Orwell

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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2020