Delmas 42;
Near the dump down the road
Or is it ‘dumps' since it is
Split by a road?
I, not too long landed home
Leaving untouched assignments
At my house,
But in 30 seconds that thought
Was long gone as much as a hundred thousand.
Driving through the familiar
Yet so unfamiliar road;
For this place had
A medical surgery
Which left it beyond recognition,
But you'd think that
After five years this place
Would look less like a campsite?
After six years,
Reuniting again
To send another one off.
After five years of agony
The job was completely done;
Such a bittersweet moment.
On that Wednesday,
Mommy was insupportable.
I wondered how it felt
To lose my mum?
It is funny how I didn't
Truly understand anything
Yet my heart was drowning;
Such a mockery.
For I don't have rather
Don't wish to have
The experience gained
On that Tuesday.
Left the building,
Up St Antoine.
Dirty hands
And me, in my thoughts,
‘Another one gone'.
Lea- Beima Dorestin
(L.B.D)
Type of Poem: Lament/Dirge
A great start with a nice poem, Lea B. You may like to read my poem, Love and Lust. Thanks
When friends ask what I am writing, these days, I tell them: elegies. Alas. Dreadfully wonderful, this ability to wrap shrouds. Well done.
After six years, Reuniting again To send another one off. After five years of agony The job was completely done; Such a bittersweet moment. suffering and death portrayed well with originality in thoughts and words.. thank you dear poet. tony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a very mourning poem, describing Delmas 42. I know exactly where you're talking about. You could have written the same thing about our once affluent places in Port-au-Prince: Turgeau, Canape Vert, Bois Verna, Paco, etc. Beautiful names which mean nothing these days. The realities of these places are appalling. Thank you for expressing the sad and mourning realities of Delmas 42. I encourage you not to stop using the words to embellish our thoughts.
Yes still beautiful places at heart. I wanted to express my grandmother's death also. It's a poem for both the country and myself. Thank you and I won't stop.