Someone had literally stolen the peeling yellow paint
Off of the walls, which reeked of goats and sickness,
This was supposed to be a veterinary clinic,
But the soldiers had blocked off the roads
And Graceful Maryam needed to have the baby.
Youssef tried to clean up the afterbirth and wait for
The bombardment to stop, the sting to recede, and the world to right itself
Of course, humanity has ruined itself irrepairably
We burn the wick, and we have little time before...
He looked at his illegitimate son, Maryam, full of Grace,
Trying to provide his child mother's milk
Before the cruciform bombers took the child
As a casuality of the sins of the world
A contest entry
- Words for the Few by SurelyWritten.
390 points, ended May 3, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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This is a very powerful poem... I like how you have interpreted the wordbank - this tells a story in such a creative way
good luck in the contest!
Keep writing
Polly
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To me, this is more like prose than poetry- Although I like that it told a story, related it to the "here and now" and used all the words from the contest...
I have given this a lot of thought, and I am torn, because it doesn't seem to be poetry- But I have nothing against prose- Maybe if you expanded on this you could turn it into a short prose...
Just a thought, thanks for entering, very well done,
Shirley
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