Warsaw, 1st September 1939
I am not supposed to be in here.
But this is the only chance I've had in a while.
I climb onto Papa's desk chair
and reach up to the shoebox
hibernating on the top shelf.
Carefully, take it down - place it
on the desk to peek inside.
Grandfather's journal. It smells bitter -
burnt wood; its cover - spread over the pages
like so much melted chocolate. His fountain pen -
his sixth finger. The spiked medal, brassy now;
a gift from the ‘Fatherland’. The coloured ribbon -
faded. I breathe in the scent. Reminds me
of the inside of his violin case.
I check I am still alone.
Yes. They are all in the other room, crowding
around the radio - cooing as if it were a baby!
They even pat it on the head when it brings good news;
huddle round it as one does a stove. I prefer to sit
across the room by the sunset of the dying fire - flames
retreating behind sandbags of coal.
I dream about a stand-off. Just me and the radio-god,
wanting to take an axe to its shiny wooden head
and gawping metal mouth, fixed into a mock gasp!
Even if I was to scream, "Heil Hitler!" it wouldn't catch
their attention. Having said that though, I once said,
"It's not Moses, you know?" and was sent to bed with no supper.
They tell me nothing - think I'm unaware of what they whisper about.
But inside my head, I hear swastika cogs, whirring and grinding
like four point stars - jealous of the one that outshines them.
Fat black clouds, like tanks, chug over the horizon. A plague
spreading across a late-summer sky.
Suddenly, Mama rushes in. I freeze. Grandmother, Papa,
and David, gather at the door - look at me kind of strangely
and I know I'm for it! Betrayed by the radio - guilty
of not attracting their attention for quite long enough.
Mama pulls me off of my chair - gathers me into her arms.
She is shaking and I am scared.
Comments
Curse of 222 | April 8, 2009 - 21:27
as usual, the imagery is amazing! does it ever get old hearing that? you've set well the setting and tone, and even though it's somber, the piece doesn't drag itself down.
good job, magic.
jason
Silver Spun Sand | April 9, 2009 - 08:27
I agree wholeheartedly with Jason. Again your poem is rich in imagery, Magic.
Particularly like:-
"Fat black clouds, like tanks, chug over the horizon. A plague spreading across a late-summer sky."
Well done, again;-)
Tina xxx
MistakenMagic | April 9, 2009 - 10:39
Thank you Jason! I could never get tired of hearing such positive comments - it's these reviews that keep me going ;)
Thanks Tina, that's one of my favourite lines too ;)
Magic xxx
luigi_pagano | April 9, 2009 - 11:27
Dear Rebecca, for one so young you seem to know history pretty well. I agree with the others that it is a powerful poem and I got the gist of it although I must confess that I was a bit confused by the last verse, especially the lines "Betrayed by the radio - guilty of not attracting their attention for quite long enough."
Perhaps I am reading wrong but weren't the relatives, and not the narrator, gathered in the other room listening to the radio? Quote: "They are all in the other room, crowding around the radio - cooing as if it were a baby!"
Sometimes, what's clear in the author's mind is not so clear in the reader's. As I said, it is possibly my understanding which is at fault and I must congratulate you on this skilfully crafted piece.
Luigi xxx
MistakenMagic | April 9, 2009 - 11:42
Thank you for your comment Luigi ;) Yes, history is a real passion of mine and I'm currently studying it at A level.
The lines you pointed out did cause some confusion in the editing process with Tina! What I'm trying to get across is the narrator was able to sneak into her father's office while the rest of the family were crowding around the radio. But the family have just receieved word from the radio about the invasion of Poland and have gone to find the narrator - and find her in the office where she isnlt supposed to be. So what she's saying is the radio didn't keep the relatives occupied for long enough so that she could sneak back out.
Hope that explains it :s
Thank you again for your input Luigi - it is much appreciated ;)
Magic xxx
threeleafshamrock | April 12, 2009 - 13:39
Powerful, strong piece. Just reading 'The Book Thief' (recommended by Nathan) and this piece fits in beautifully. Felt a shiver going down my spine. Great stuff!
Chris X
MistakenMagic | April 12, 2009 - 17:58
Thank you Chris ;) Yes, I remember Nathan recommending 'The Book Thief' - I really need to read it!
Magic xxx
Nathan Bednarek | April 21, 2009 - 19:06
'Yes. They are all in the other room, crowding
around the radio - cooing as if it were a baby!'
My favourite lines, but the whole poem is just wonderful.
I've noticed that you have a very good sense of atmosphere and mood that comes through your poetry so elegantly.
This is yet another atmospheric poem. It literally takes me back to the 'setting' of the story being told in this poem.
As always, well done.
Nathan xox
MistakenMagic | April 22, 2009 - 17:14
Thank you Nathan! Great to hear from you again ;)
Magic xxx