The Tangled Branch Discussion Forums

In cute dinosaur socks,
a child dies on a gurney,
his inconsolable mother
buckling at her knees.

The columns and crowds
of displaced and terrified,
pack platforms in stations
which no trains can leave.

A baby’s mitten, a child’s glove,
another, all dropped in the rush,
reach up from the sludge,
as if the Earth is raising its hands.

Hunkered in bitter forests
Russian boys with frozen rifles
make tearful videos on mobile phones.
Uninformed, misled, poorly planned.

The man with polonium eyes,
anti-socially distant and small,
so small, sits in a vast white room
like a maggot in a fridge.

His ridiculous table will never
be long enough to bear all the names
of the bodies in the graves he alone,
with bare hands and buckled knees, should dig.

Not a great poem, i know, but I needed to blurt something out about the horror in Ukraine

Marc

This gives a decent sense of the situation. Maybe not a great poem, but it's certainly a good one.
I like the 'buckled knee' connect between the first and last stanzas.  
Favourite line, like a maggot in a fridge 

Hi Marco,

It does have something, though. Start with the man with polonium eyes, I think, then the columns, the forests, the table. Leave out the mitten verse. Structuring it this way would then make the dinosaur socks verse feel a bit more original, placed after all these disparate images.

Hope this helps,

Trev

We have certainly all been there having to vent deep emotions and perhaps not hitting the poetic sweet-spot. Nevertheless, a necessary and life affirming deed. Yesterday, as I watched the news and caught myself despairing and feeling sick, it brought it home to me how much of a luxury that is to be able to know and see and to turn off or away and imagine my own unhappiness when that pales before the horror of the reality there. Thank you for posting as it one of the millions of necessary signals that need to be transmitted constantly out into the world affirming the values we hold dear.
Dave
 

Marc, yes, we are all writing about what's going on. I turn my back on the TV now to mitigate the horror of the spoken message.   

I especially like your beautifully vivid first three stanzas, and as you revise this I hope you keep them. From that point your anger starts creeping in, and much as the aggressor deserves it in my view, I don't think (also my view) insulting him benefits your poem.

Thank you for posting this

Jackie

Hi Marc, Visual and descriptive work. Like that 'maggot in the fridge line."
I do think that less would more here though. A careful edit would make the message stronger.
Nevertheless enjoyed the read.