Red World Poem by Sandy Player

Red World



The Children make a change of clothing;
Tightening up red scarves
And displaying hats as if helmets.
Their grandparents stay inside as they gear up.
Perhaps another tea for now,
Bought with more silver, steel and Chinese blood.

Iron petals of snowflakes fall like an industrial revolution,
Overnight the land is levelled wearing the same rich bridal dress
Which covers over townhalls, churches and houses
With a white satiny mutiny that the Children exclusively claim.

Their hob-nail foot prints sit in the snow;
Landmines wiring up with time into an icy field.
Print on print, whether following or stamping out,
Crushing the milk-white powder until it is unwalkable,
The sanguine red blood of those who slip on it
Staining the uniform gloss.

The remnants glance from behind their iron curtains
And smile with their cynical screwed lips
On the salt with which they litter the ex-snow, now ice row.
The old colours return; those classic divides.
They re-open their shops.

Rain taps on the doors, the memory of the snow
Moaning for a place to exist. Cuba's too hot.
It smatters on dead trees and the wide-eyed dead crow underneath.
The ants and the wolf won't eat it;
They died because of the freeze too.
Not even the fox made it.

The ice turned the world into a gulag
And blood coloured it red.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Ruth Walters 12 March 2013

snow melts but this memory burns and won't go away, it remains, the ashes glued to your mind so that in the end there is nothing for it but to write it in poetry.....you are a talented player, keep playing.....I love it...

0 0 Reply
Bri Edwards 18 February 2013

is mark challenger and sandy player one person? ? someone gave this a 5 rating. i would give it more, especially, i think, if it were clearer for me to understand. but even without understanding i enjoyed it for creativity with words, rhyming, and what i call flow. check spelling of 7th word in 7th line. is it a typo? ...(and[sic]) this has to have something to do with commies (what some of us americans called them in my youth, during the cold war) . right? i liked several of your images such as Crushing the milk-white powder until it is unwalkable, and the ex-snow, now ice row. thanks for sharing. i found you from a comment you left on someone else's poem. thanks for sharing. i think i'll add this to mypoemlist.

0 1 Reply
Yours Forever X 04 February 2013

wow thats very powerful and i love the way you make snow, which most see as beautiful, seem like something which causes trauma. well done, you're a great poet. xx

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