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bog people
by Peter HumphreysI have seen
said the woman
a life of endless struggle
of children dead
before their time
of land unyielding in
its fruit and in its
clime
unending
unforgiving, vast.
I have seen
said the boy,
the blackened faces
of my friends
toiling through the
long summer days
to harvest the dark
light, the winter
heat from
clagging, clawing,
fastness,
the cotton, waving at
sea in caressing breeze,
the skylark,
the rain, the fun.
I have seen,
said the man,
the streets of New York,
London
Birmingham,
the noisy, clattering
streets, the highness,
the lowness, the narrowness,
searching, searching
for work, for money,
for home, for life,
for a space of our own
for we are the bog people.
I am the darkness,
the whiteness, the wind,
the cold, the heat,
the life, the all-enveloping
mist, the swirling,
breathing all hearing,
dripping, sapping,
entombing vastness
called home.
07/13/2005 Posted on 07/13/2005
Copyright © 2024 Peter Humphreys
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Madeline Pestolesi on 07/13/05 at 10:09 PM Ohhh, nice work. I really enjoyed this. Welcome! |
| Posted by Paganini Jones on 07/14/05 at 07:04 AM Welcome to Pathetic.
This is a highly competant piece of work - the title forced me to read (perhaps as this is the first poem I have come across on this subject not written by me!) I particularly like your layering of images that are rapidly sketched. And phrases like "clagging, clawing fastness". Mmm an immediate favourite and POTD nomination. |
| Posted by Mary Ellen Smith on 07/15/05 at 06:41 PM the title grabbed me and you didn't let go til the very end...excellent work. |
| Posted by Christina Butcher on 07/16/05 at 04:06 PM i love it love it love it love it love it. this poem is great, and i think you did a wonderful job on making sure that it just rolled off the tongue when you read it. nice work, and i'll be looking for more of yours. post, please! |
| Posted by Michelle Angelini on 07/17/05 at 08:04 AM Peter, Welcome to Pathetic! I didn't know what to expect from the title, but after reading it countless times, I received more than I imagined. I agree with Paganini about the poem's comptence. In addition, you use every one of the senses, so that I'm not just reading the poem, I'm in it too. The ending stanza encapsulates all the previous stanzas, because ultimately, the bog ties the people to it - in daily life, sadness, and death. I, too, would love to see this as POTD. Please, write more...
~Chelle~ |
| Posted by Bradd Howard on 07/19/05 at 04:17 PM such a powerful gripping poem... about the everyday struggles we must all face... great word choice and use of the senses... thank you for your words and welcome to pathetic! |
| Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 11/08/05 at 03:33 AM breathtaking....such is the past of Ireland's peoples...will their future ever be any different. |
| Posted by Melissa Arel on 04/21/06 at 01:32 PM Wow Peter.. I have such a love for your country and this poem brings them even closer to my heart. A sad yet telling tale of Ireland's people.. Excellent work! |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 01/27/16 at 03:48 PM What a brilliant piece, moving, well constructed. Congrats on POTD! |
| Posted by Rob Littler on 01/27/16 at 05:55 PM :::::::::::::::::sigh:::::::::::::::::::
thanks for sending me into an immediate state of bliss, i am making this poem my Mantra du jour. Here's to exercising long-term memory, and joining you... |
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