The Lost Poems Of Fidel Castro Poem by Michael Philips
The Lost Poems Of Fidel Castro
From above, the desk has a home
in a row of identical desks,
an old high school yearbook rests in the middle,
and a mechanical pencil.
We would be underneath,
kneeling for bombs
but ready for games,
eyes synchronized in little caves.
We've only the faintest scars
to show for our suffering,
and ghostly scenes reflected in old windows,
to smile in sorrow or ignore for new ballads.
The iconic beard and green hat,
like something from the attic,
like the Stones or a Kennedy,
or a warning of a cold front moving in.
I really like how this poem reveals itself, and its place in history. -chuck
This little piece of history is a detailed observation of frightening days. Rather than getting caught in the emotion, you chose to focus on the details, the desks, the yearbook, the children more ready for games than the serious preparation into which they were forced. Your closing stanza, bringing in Fidel Castro, the Stones, the Kennedys brought it all together...'The Lost Poems of Fidel Castro.' Loved the title. Raynette
Gawd, it's good to see you here again. I've always loved your work. I too remember the 'duck and cover' exercises...thankfully our kids don't, huh? And hopefully, they never will. I love the way this moves, Michael...softly, urgently. Thanks for sharing.
How perfectly I remember being under the desk, not knowing whether to be afraid of the 'bombs' or excited about the release from the regular classwork, and how well you have brought back this memory...the things that we think we have forgotten until something (or someone!) triggers the memory for us. Welcome back.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/19/2024 1:36:17 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Echoic, haunting, and leaving this reader hungry for more...