The first time I saw him
he was using a walker,
moving as if every step was pure torture,,
defiantly headed for the gym's weight machines,
not willing to let the car accident that nearly claimed his life
keep him from fighting back.
Just as he had done all his life,
during his seventy three years,
possessing stern almond eyes
registering their determination and secrets,
shared later when we became friends.
As child, during World War II, memories retold in vivid tales
about Arizona Japanese Internment Camp.
Never letting its scars
cripple his soul from rising out of despair's abyss.
Molded in his parent's spirit
inside there was such stalwart steal resolve
to face and conquer circumstance's walls.
The power of his heritage fueled his heart with such fire
so as an adult he worked any job he could find
until he was able to restore family fortunes
lost during resettlement crisis.
I watched him every day among the different exercise machines,
pain his lips refused to share or speak,
silently bearing each adversity without complaint.
Despite his age, two years of brutal and agonizing recovery,
enabled him to walk without any help.
His laurel of victory
found in the sweat of sacrifice,
haggard, weary face
expressing the crown from a smile
of doing
what doctors said was impossible.
A contest entry
- "he's got sand" (true grit) by james119.
800 points, ended July 19, 7 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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Knowing of such a family myself, I can appreciate the folk of Japanese decent who went through such humiliation and loss. Those who rose above it deserve much more recognition than they have gotten to date.
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awesome write....
the closer one is to being that age the clearer the victory of his accomplishment shines...good luck in the contest
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fantastic poem full of great encouragement and emotions of strenth
Never letting its scars cripple his soul from rising Despite his age, two years of brutal and agonizing recovery,enabled him to walk without any help.His laurel of victory found in the sweat of sacrifice, haggard, weary face expressing the crown from a smile of doing
what doctors said was impossible.out of despair's abyss.
good luck in the contest
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This absolutely touches the heart and soul to read it. I can't even explain the emotions that have rolled through me. Wonderful job on this!
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What a marvelous work, from the Japanese interment camp as a child, to mold his soul as the samauri sword, hammered steel where smoked mist in the blade shows it strength. Determined life without complaint to conquer the world that had taken family wealth. Brings a body from fragile and unable to walk without assistance. Doctors impossible task to walk is the crown in his smile. The is riveting, the images are clear and evoke the mind to accept and greet his victory with cheers. This is compelling and strong descriptions leave the reader satisified with the ending.Good luck with the contest
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This is a man to admire!
The prose is very direct and explicit, rather like an eulogy with a poetic end.
I like the lines:
'His laurel of victory
found in the sweat of sacrifice,'
Thank you for entering.
I will read each entry again before judging
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