How could I have forgotten
The miles of old whining telegraph wires
That stretched across the land
Sending good news and bad –
Of course that’s all gone now,
Down the worm-hole of time –
We forget what the world was like back then…
I walked down a lane plastered
With red, white and blue flags –
People like ants applauded and threw confetti
I wore my green jeans and matching shoes
(My first fashion collection was
Based upon this memory
— Remember …
The green feathers in Martha’s hair?)
Now we could rest – after the sight
Of the shell-shocked soldiers with their
Loose minds and knife creased pants.
The war was over ...
While we were dining, father spoke of the war.
(That night
I dreamt of Japanese soldiers rattling
Bolted doors and bayonetting wounded soldiers,
The sight roiled my stomach but I couldn’t wake-up
And I ran afraid as the fronds hit my face –
It was something I wanted to forget)
Something I’ll never forget –
He told us that he was in the jungle
Running lost and scared –
And heard the whining of mosquitoes
Like telegraph lines
Back home,
They used to cross the land.
© G.s.k. ‘16
Note: This is a poem about memories … most of the memories aren’t my own actually, but things I remember hearing other people say … except for the dream … I had that dream and it was very vivid, when I was 5 years old, after my father told us about his war experience in the Philippines, where we’d just come to live. What has always intrigued me was the clarity of the dream … I’d never seen Japanese soldiers nor how they were dressed … but I remember seeing them in my dream and remembering their uniforms – which I only saw a few years later in a film.
NaPoWriMo: Day 17 Smorgasbord Sunday
Sunday’s Whirligig: Wordle #55
The Sunday Whirligig
green, blue, red, shoes, loose, pants,
dining, ants, good, news, miles, whining
The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #247
The Sunday Whirl
forget, stretch, rest, left, hole, lost,
sight, first, shell, feathers, rattle, old
I love the way you have woven your dream into your memory of your father’s memories!
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That dream has haunted me for years … as I was writing the poem, using the stream of consciousness method of writing free verse … it wove itself into the story as soon as the words father spoke of the war were written … I’m happy you liked the result!
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What a remarkable piece of writing this is. Telling in your own words the memories of those long ago times that affected so many in so many ways.
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Thanks very much Robin .. I was trying to see what would come out just by writing whatever the words brought to mind as I was writing … after 64 years on this Earth there are a lot of strings hanging about I guess which are useful for weaving tales. 😉
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I love how this marches full circle like a message passed around a telegraph wire – open to our own interpretation, imagination and understanding but still true – how nice it would to think that these things would never happen again..but it seems war may never be over
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Alas, so it would seem … it’s very sad we aren’t able to coordinate our world in a better way.
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Loved the line “down the worm-hole of time”!
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Thanks for commenting PM … and excuse my tardiness in replying here – unfortunately I was taken ill …
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It’s National Poetry month…a reply at all is a plus! 🙂 Hope you’re feeling better!! ~Paula
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I’m beginning t feel a lot better .. the cramps have calmed down quite a bit …. thanks 🙂 Georgia.
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Good to hear!
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For me too … 😉
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