In Justice
by pete marshall
Cobbled stones that lead unto
a granite wall & iron rails,
death would walk 'mongst weeping cries
beyond the gates of Bodmin gaol.
A smile that pulls past ragged teeth
bestows a child with ashen hair
who walks past rows of sullen homes,
dampened cells & stifled air.
Rights are called on bastard thieves
who stole a hunk from bakers fayre.
Alone she sat beyond reproach
yet fairies brought her food to share.
For troubled times begin to brew
as torches burn in hate filled streets,
the hangman bows upon a door
that opens forth past 13 feet.
************
Having just returned from visiting so many wonderful sites in Cornwall, this poem has been inspired after my first ever visit to Bodmin Gaol, and perhaps the troubled times we are currently envisaging.
This is also shared with Dverse
image courtesy creative commons flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/dennyboy/
30 comments:
Second poem tonight I've read that's given me the heebie Jeebies, it's such an atmospheric place, bodmin jail, so many stories of injustice. Nice to see you 'round Pete!
Haunting feel to this one, Pete. Glad to see one of your poems.
You really weave a haunting emotion in this piece. It lingers of the consequence of corruption to the innocents. Inspired write Pete! ~ Rose
woohoo - pete is in the house...now have to read the poem...but was just so glad to see you that i thought i'd say hello before reading..smiles
great to hear you had a good and inspiring time in cornwall - i like your poem a lot...happens often to me as well when i'm in such historical spots and think about the things that happened there years and years ago..inhaling history...good and bad stories and when reading it i thought about the troubled times of the happenings in england just now as well...great bridge from past to presence...
yay great to see you brother! this is def a haunting piece...the hangman in particular...i imagine it to be like walking through alcatraz knowing what all went on there...great piece man!
I enjoyed the read. Thanks for your thoughts tonight.
A trip back to a time colder and more clear than our own, but i think so less harsh and brutal. we just disguise and hide it better. Haunting describes this one well.
stark and vivid images.
i like these lines:
"For troubled times begin to brew
as torches burn in hate filled streets,
the hangman bows upon a door
that opens forth past 13 feet."
great to read your work ~
Typo--that should be NO less harsh and brutal. sorry.
Vivid images - so atmospheric - fantastic flow
A wonderful piece, sort of a feeling of past stakes being sharpened with present circumstances.
Without reading your annotation, I got the feeling it was about the London fire/riots.
it has a lovely rhythm to it...
Strong lines in your poem. Great you stopped by...
Hi Pete - I loved Cornwall. Did you see Tintagel (there are no pirates in Penzance, did they tell you? I looked everywhere for 'em). But it's lovely especially the train ride down to Land's End.
Great poem. Heartbreaking to me that there's violence there. The Rodney King riots were going on in L.A. the first time I was in Britain. Everyone was horrified that such thing would happen here; never dreamed such could happen there. I cry for it, and these times. Sad days, sad days - and your tail was haunting.
Praying for cooler and calmer days and seas ahead.
Love your way, friend!
Ha - I meant tale of course - don't think that racy thing about me!
..this was haunting but i like it.. everything that goes here truly volumes deeply.. i enjoyed the read sir.. thank you!
How nice to see you here :) You did a wonderful job of helping us to imagine the past with you. The whole thing is quite chilling, and this also made me think of recent events.
This has a feeling of both past and present, so easily connected to one another; flows easily, nice poem, although a sad situation.
I love this poem! Of course I love all things England, and to hear about the cobbled stones and the old gaol was marvellous. Simply written and yet 'weighty' in content. This is my favourite of yours thus far.
Certainly feel some real world inspiration in this write, Pete. and yes, perhaps a few goosebumps have risen as well! No matter, your always flawless style still leaves me with a smile! (unintentional rhyme there!) Write on!
So good to see you posting Pete. This place has a fascinating history, I can't imagine how eerie it would have been to walk around a gaol that was actually rebuilt by the prisoners themselves, many of whom would have been imprisoned in such harsh conditions for petty crime, some committed purely to survive. Interesting that you've pulled a thread from the history of such an austere place and knitted it seamlessly with the troubles plaguing some of our cities over the last few days.
I only found out recently that a hangman's noose has thirteen knots, there were usually thirteen steps up to the gallows and the guillotine fell from thirteen feet. Coincidence?
A smile that pulls past ragged teeth - great line.
You lyrically weave the threads connecting current events to historical precedent. Neither pedantic nor accusatory, you lead the reader to understanding. Love it!
This has the feel of a poem from the Romantic era of British poetry, yet has up to the minute references which makes it so relevant. Protest poetry at its best.
Well you did both past and present true justice here..in your poem - loved that the fairies still did share..hope you and family are safe from all the turmoil there...bkm
Hi Pete,
I once holidayed in Bodmin - so i could really connect with you poem.
Although your picture sets a great tone anyway.
I think your piece is absolutely fine - a real stand out story delivered with skill and deft word choice...what a great poem
hi, pete. I missed this one at dverse and just now caught it while catching up on blog subscriptions. Great poem but even greater to see you actively writing :) Cheers!
This is so impeccably structured and flavored with language of the time when this gaol was "alive." Very cool juxtaposition with current unrest, which is also about the crying out of the downtrodden. My fav stanza:
A smile that pulls past ragged teeth
bestows a child with ashen hair
who walks past rows of sullen homes,
dampened cells & stifled air.
I see that child, the ashen hair haunts me...
There is an energy about this old historic spots.
Enjoyed your fine, fine poem much. Thanks, Pete, for posting it and the photograph. (Likely I won't get there! ) :-)
Poem on ...
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