Survivors

Survivors

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Bones


by Steve King
© 2015

and then, you see,
when they came to break your bones
you learned to tell them things

some of it was true I know
but other parts could make no sense at all

I wondered if they knew the difference
wondered at the sounds I made
a chorus of dark music
echoing a distant tongue

much felt like a dream
the darkness
and the sudden light
the inversions
the cold
the darkness
and the hearthless heat
day and night at once
no element of sky or earth
or grace of wakening beyond
the mind left strangely free in flights
to ease hardening bonds

darkness
just as if a dream
where only strangers meet

do no harm I thought
but could not think
I did not think

save for one small thing

there comes that moment when one hopes
that he has finally known it all
will never stir to see another face

and yet 
he chooses still to name it hope

 

24 comments:

  1. Agh. I read this as from the mind of someone in a terrible captivity--either on our side - rendition--or the other--though sides don't matter for purposes of the poem-- it is very moving--you do not have the physical details of this captivity and torture (it sounds like) but enough in the dark and light, the nuanced mental description, to make it quite terrifying, haunting, sad--the close in which hope describes both end and, of necessity, continuity is very striking. A breathtaking piece, Steve. Thanks. k.

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  3. I liked the poem. I know this may sound trite but I thought the first three staNZAS WERE THE BEST AND REALLY MAKE YOUR POINT. >kb

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  4. I like how you went from "and when they come to break your bones" to ending with hope, or at least something you could call hope.

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  5. " I wonder if they new the difference" Great question. When someone gives information under duress who knows if its valid... This was a thought provoking write. Thanks for sharing.

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  6. Is there a time where seems totally useless? I think this would be it... break my bones and I'll tell you my life story and give you bank info as well... yikes. Quite thrilling this is, I dig it!

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  7. Such intense & vivid images here. Well penned!

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  8. A powerful diatribe, a paean to pain, to chaos; liked the sinews, the emotional power, but did have a little trouble as you leaped from "one" or "you" to "I". For me the piece works best if it is completely in the first person; stronger, much more focused.

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  9. a journey and a choice - well said.

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  10. What a great opening:
    "and when they come to break your bones
    you learn to tell them things"

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  11. The opening lines are very eye-catching Steve ~ there is much darkness and light and through it all, I want to cling to that hope in the end ~

    Grace

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  12. Hope in the face of utter darkness... nicely done!

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  13. This poem was... dark. But I like the hope at the end, despite the dire situation.

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  14. Wonderful imagery. Light in the darkness.

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  15. "...you learn to tell them things." Indeed! This was wonderfully woven.

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  16. Will to survive.. snake brain..
    core to existence.. a
    savior even
    when Hope
    leaves
    home..
    my greaTest
    gift.. the reptile
    of my soul..
    SURVIVAL..:)

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  17. It seems that this piece speaks from a very dark place. Even hope in the end is questioned. A powerful write.

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  18. A very interesting ascend from darkness to hope - very well done.

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  19. "save for one small thing"---yes! That hope at the end. Very powerful piece.

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  20. Your opening lines really capture my attention (sorry, very bad pun). Starting there, with so much unknown, going through the this very dark, tortourous place I did not expect to end up with hope. This is a remarkable piece. Your opening and closing lines are stong, grabbing, and I also really like the following:

    no element of sky or earth
    or grace of wakening beyond
    the mind left strangely free in flights
    to ease hardening bonds

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  21. I often wonder about the use of torture as a means of obtaining information and how the person only says what they want to hear just to make them go away. Very interesting poem. Hayes Spencer is Kanzensakura

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  22. Wow. Imagery of Auschwitz, or any pretty much any POW camp are well captured in your words. The last 5 lines really grabbed me:

    "there comes that moment when one hopes
    that he has finally known it all
    will never stir to see another face

    and yet
    he chooses still to name it hope"

    It is amazing what the body can endure, and yet there must come a moment of teetering between the thought of more torture or final peace. And still that glimmer of hope.
    So good to read your writing again, my friend. I have been checking in as I have time to see if there is something new. So glad I checked tonight!

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  23. Hey Steve, I was almost afraid to re-visit this one as it is so dark (in the best of ways), but you know what I mean--it leads to thinking of things one tries to blot out sometimes. I was struck this time through at the changes in person--from you to I to one to he--this works very well with the profile of the speaker, the disassociation of self that is described in places and that one imagines. Hope all well (and very far from this.) k.

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  24. PS - I wonder if you have revisited your long poem--? k.

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