She had listened one too many times
to the voice of God with an empty stomach.
And in the cold and crumbling block of stone
that some called home, co-habiting with the
ghosts of a Mother, Father, Sister, daughter,
still smiling through the lies into an afterlife of
sweet uncertainty, beneath the polished frames
of father, son - fingers barely lithe enough to
clasp a bowl of boiled grass, raw from picking
scraps of corn and fallen grain, too weak in fact
to kiss the arse of this mockery-life a minute longer.
Beneath the blanket that had covered their bones,
watching the fire envelop the last of her diplomas
she suddenly decided to live; packed a bag,
closed a door, found a train (easier said than done),
tried not to flag or wane or trip over the bodies
of the broken and the dead that lined the streets
as if waiting for the parade that never came -
wrapped herself in those around who stuffed
the carriages and moved about from place
to place in search of anything to stave the dread
of standing still and hoping for a brighter sky.
Crossed the border, bribed her guide with
silver and a smile, made her feet move,
exhausted found a farm and dreamed a bowl
of steamed white rice upon the floor;
barking somewhere near – teeth drawn, lights
and open doors; closed the gate with just enough
time to spare – but understood: Chinese dogs
are better fed than the people of North Korea.
Comments
Rhiannonw | November 1, 2011 - 14:24
Getting out is even more difficult than it was for the American slaves on the underground railway, isn't it. Is this from a particular account? Rh
Highhat | November 1, 2011 - 15:28
It's very difficult getting IN too. Very well captured FB. A desolate picture you paint here.
;)Pia
fatboy74 | November 1, 2011 - 15:59
Many months ago I read Barbara Demick's book Nothing to Envy and this poem is a mish mash of many of the accounts from there - I believe very few ever get away and no-one from the outside gets beyond Pyongyang. Thanks for reading Rhiannon and Pia - I've not read any comp entries yet so will check out yours later. ATB fb
Silver Spun Sand | November 1, 2011 - 18:23
fb - as Pia says, you capture the desolation and hopelessness so very well with your words.
I wish you every success in the competition, and feel richer for having read this, but can't help thinking, how much better - the world, if words, such as yours and Barbara Demick's, didn't ever have occasion to be written.
Tina;-)
rjnewlyn | November 1, 2011 - 23:20
Yes, very good - the broken up sentences work well. You're right I think - very few get out.
Rob
fatboy74 | November 1, 2011 - 23:56
Many thanks for reading Tina - it is a harrowing book and if the accounts are true, what is happening there is quite unbelievable.
fatboy74 | November 2, 2011 - 00:02
I don't know why I chose this format but it seemed the right one. Good to hear from you Rob hope you are well.
Kilb50 | November 2, 2011 - 08:12
Interesting structure, fb, and you've certainly captured the desolation and hopelessness of North Korean escapees. Sue-Lloyd Roberts presented a series of films on Newsnight from inside North Korea last year for which, I think, she recently won an award...some of the images from her films stayed with me for quite a while...a fascinating subject....I'll def. try and hunt out Demick's book. Good luck in the comp!
skinner_jennifer | November 2, 2011 - 09:59
Hi FB,
a very well structured piece of writing. I've never
read the book, but you have captured some really
scarey stuff in this piece.
A very interesting read and I wish you all the luck
with the competition.
Jenny.
SundaysChild | November 2, 2011 - 15:57
I agree- very well structured. Good luck with the comp :)
fatboy74 | November 2, 2011 - 17:20
I'm sorry I missed that Kilb - i wonder if it's knocking about somewhere on iplayer, I'll have to see. Many thanks for reading and feedback. :-)
Many thanks for reading Jenny and your best wishes, hope you're well. :-)
Cheers Sundays great to hear from you. :-)