look at the dark subdued eyes
and grubby faces of three children
not a trace of a smile between them
pretty little girls who work at
the cannery shucking oysters from
shells prised open with knives
outside the factory gates
the year is 1911, the photographer
harvests hardship in monochrome
stark poverty stares back
lives drained in the same way the
photographic image is devoid of colour
smock dresses torn filthy and patched
ill fitting laced boots yet it’s their hands
those calloused little hands
wrapped in bandages, knotted ties
round small gashed fingers
that hurt and cry out most of all
-
Author:
Cassie58 (
Offline) - Published: November 28th, 2024 04:27
- Comment from author about the poem: How hard life was for eleven year olds.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 37
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, rin, Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments10
You know when I was 15 I worked in a fishmongers in Granville arcade in Brixton London, my hands were so ugly full of cuts from fish spines and black with the wrapping of the paper we used I used to clean fillet and wrap, even though my hands were terribly ugly I absolutely loved my job. I feel for those young souls who had such a job so young. 🌹
Hello Teddy, we all had jobs back then didn’t we:) As a schoolgirl I worked Saturdays in Woolworth’s. One Christmas it was so busy, I had blisters on my feet:) Hardwork, but we laughed. The kids in this photo were 11. It was a heartbreaker, but not uncommon in those days. Unkempt and ragged. Pour souls. Thank you dear Teddy. 🌹
There is no developed country where children are allowed to work, but this is a valuable picture that tells us that it was the same everywhere more than 100 years ago.
Even today, some developing countries still rely on child labor.
I think it is a very good poem. The choice of words also conveys to the reader in a straightforward manner.
Thanking you for the read rin. Fortunately we have made progress in many areas in the world, but not enough. Hard looking at those little faces and their calloused and cut hands and fingers.
My mother was one of five children. The family were fishermen and oyster farmers. Everyone works from the age of six. Not sure what a six year old does but they were trained well.
My mother bought seven properties with an oyster knife.
Tough life? Possibly but that's what they knew.
Thank you for your interesting share. So pleased that your mother was more fortunate than the little girls depicted in my poem. Yes, tough lives. Some have them. Whereabouts was your mother located at the time?
Hawkesbury River, born 1932
These kids were in the slums of London. Good things worked out for your Mother: Happy Thanksgiving.
That's true, wasn't the money though she gave most of it away.
I could only imagine though on one tropical holiday I was like Rambo by the Oceanside, sitting in the rocky beach hunting knife in hand shucking oysters and straight into the gullet, lunch al fresco. Got a few cuts as well, they are quite sharp, the shells and the rocks. So I can imagine a life of nothing but shucking could be quite shocking. I can feel the sharp stinging rawness of the cuts now… courtesy of part-hypochondriac and interactive memory. Solid poem here Cassie, a journey no less! 👍🏻👍🏻
Thanks for the smile. I hope Rambo enjoyed his Al fresco lunch. Never tried oysters, so I don’t know what it’s like to prise open the shells. The little girls had cuts. Sounds as though you suffered to. Pleased this came across as a solid poem.
It bought back learned images of boys up chimneys and the matchstick girls... glad we are more socially conscious today....now we just deny them proper shelter....
Good call, Cassie
What terribly hard lives those little kids had and then they had illnesses like TB to contend with. You are so right about the lack of housing today, it stinks. I have three grown up kids still at home. No sign of them going anywhere. Thanks Dave for stopping by.
Incredible ink Cassie .. I know I've said it before but if I had faves then this one would be very near the top .. Your pal me .. 💜
What a lovely review Neville. You couldn’t have said anything better. I am blushing. Thank you so much 💜
A really poignant and
touching poem and
sadly true happening! 😞
A hauntingly vivid
reminder, sadly
child labor still exists
in parts of the world
still today! 😢
Thanks for sharing poetess!
Best wishes 🍀🤗🌹🐦 Thad
Many thanks Thad, yes sadly you are right. Child labor still exists. The eleven year olds in my poem were from the slums in London. Always good to get a visit from you. All the best. Have a great day.
I found the poem to be visceral...crossed the bounds of cerebral and hit something beyond it. The line "the photographer
harvests hardship in monochrome " ... magical
Thank you so much for your visit. Pleased to know you found something magical in my writing. A lovely compliment. All good wishes.
It certainly was a hard life back then Cassie. When I was in senior school I used to work on Saturdays and my holidays in Victor Values, a supermarket back in the day, it was hard work but the staff and camaraderie was wonderful.
Andy
Andy I remember Victor Values from way back. My mum used to shop there. Thank you for the smile. Have a great day.
love this tells it own story
how used to be in days gone by
reminds a bit like the film oliver
and how different the world is now
tho poverty is still there
good read emotional and true
excellent write from a very talented writer
Thank you Jim, yes sad when you see how hard our youngsters had it years ago. Their poor little faces said it all. Yet even to this day, there is child labor in some parts of the world. I appreciate your support for my efforts. Hope you are having a good day.
enjoyed your poem great read
like you say it still goes on in some places
in the world. you are worth supporting
you are a very talented writer
dont ever stop. keep warm keep safe keep writing jim xx
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