Requiem For A Refugee
When the wind
drives low
from the east
in gentle wafts ..
The sound
of so very many
infant children,
each crying
in some remote
bombed out
and distant ruin
or drowning
in some dubious,
foul-fitted
and sinking craft,
may yet still
be heard yelling,
or moaning ..
The fact is though,
the first time
that I heard them,
I was busy
working on one of
my last alibis ..
When most likely
by chance,
an unexpected
gust came
from nowhere
and it
casually blew me
clean away ..
And whereas we
all know
that kind of thing
should
never really
happen ..
You can bet your
life that it
surely does happen
and every single day ..
-
Author:
Neville (
Offline) - Published: March 7th, 2025 03:55
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence, Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments11
There is a sadness running across with the lines. Most moving. 🙏🏻🕊
Thank you for seeing it my way and for reading between those lines my friend .. .. Neville
An east wind, that of destruction, or so it is believed from Bible to present comes. You paint such a picture of devastation and need yet how easily we are diverted from help. Now the question that remains in my mind is that that gust that blows us away while working on our alibis, was that a wind of diversion or one of destruction. Either way this poem draws attention to the fact that we go through our lives not paying attention to the destruction around us. Very nice Neville
Thanks a billion sorenbarrett .. I am again glad you came by here today my friend .. Neville
Good write N. I of course go through life paying no attention to the destruction around me - cos I married KP! lol.
I can imagine .. you are a bit like a war zone ..
A very touching and sad write around the destruction around us and the destruction we cause and are part of, great write
Many thanks PL ..
You are very welcome
Neville,Your poem revolves around the fragility of human existence and the haunting presence of suffering, particularly that of children affected by war and displacement. The poem contrasts the mundane preoccupations of daily life with the stark reality of those in distress, emphasizing how easily one can be swept away from their own concerns by the harrowing cries of the vulnerable.
How very kind of you my friend .. and both your visit and consideration of this particular little scribble are muchly appreciated .. Kindest regards, Neville
Apologies right now... 'infant children' - Problem intractable given the nature of human rabbits and their habits....
OK - I know your heart is in the right place, Neville.
Thanks awfully Dave .. 😉👍
No need to thank me, I was born in war - 1941 London's East End.
A fine write, Neville. Childhood lost– Ghost of Tomorrow blowing on the wind. I am enjoying your latest book.
You just made my day Jez .. thank you so very much, that means an awful lot to me & my three little charities .. kindest regards and best wishes to you n yours sir .. Neville 😎👍
Great write Nevilie
Blimey, thanks Tony .. 😎👍
You're welcome
Powerful work, my friend.
Thank you Thomas .. Neville
True words Neville, it is such an awful state of affairs in this world that this is happening.
Andy
Absolutely dreadful .. Neville
Well, well, lemme see whether I understood correctly... weary with all the miniature howling, the wind proved a veritable friend and took you off elsewhere, eh? After that, what with the notice of an alibi added to the fray, I'm uncertain how to think, you rascal you. Gorgeously rendered with nigh exquisite imagery and an eerily haunting poignancy, we thanks thee very much for sharing, left to chew on it all like some piece of leather.
Sometimes I get tired of just chewing, particularly with so much suffering going on around me .. Sometimes I need to tear into something and make my gums bleed .. Cheers Missy
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.