Posted 03.06.11 in Writing
See that space there in my hand.
And that space there on the floor.
That space, just like the space,
Exploding from my eyes.
Space here is abundant,
Space for me to hide,
There is always space.
To much space.
So me, they’ll never find.
And yet with this much space,
There seems so little room,
Doors are closed and locks in place,
And I am swamped with gloom.
For fleeing from my town,
The trees, the leaves, the damned,
Is easier than fleeing from,
The guns. Those awful sounds.
Those hideous sharp figures, that smash into you chest, and invade every corner. And brake. And infest. Your womb a pearly harbour, storing up their crime. A beating is the punishment for stepping out of line. A thousand rotten images, bombarding in your head; the faces, the hands, the knives, the pain. The tears the blood and lives lost in vein. The broken, the weak, the tortured and maimed, A million haunting memories of events so inhumane.
This space here in this room,
Still space enough for me,
For my vacant flesh to hide,
As forget what I can see.
Kerry Thomas wrote Space in response to Joelle Taylor’s ‘No Man’s’ Land’ Challenge
Joelle Taylor says: What struck me immediately about the poem was the way the line spacing echoed the meaning of the poem – and you could even develop that further at the start and the close of the piece. You use contradiction very well to embed the idea that a person can hide in emptiness and in the Great Nothing. It interested me that space could explode from eyes; and I suppose it really can. You continue the piece with a physical awareness in form of the lack of space that the central character experiences – he/she is imprisoned in a sense by space. This is the real character speaking, and so the words are hurried and cramped together – like on the back of a lorry driven over the border at midnight. Your line “womb like a pearly harbour” is magnificent on two levels – echoes of the surprise attack on America at the start of their involvement in World War Two, and the use of the pearl itself as formed from grit and dirt that develops into something rare and beautiful. You seem at times a little bound by rhyme though – you do not need always to stick to the same form, especially if you find yourself scrabbling for the right rhyme. Free yourself, free verse! All in all a great attempt Kerry, and I look forward to following your work online. Well done.
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