Evacuee

Evacuee  

 

Like shadows

We slip into

Sidings with

Luftwaffe

Shaped edges

Mid rubble

And shrapnel

And carnage

Clipped hedges

 

Sea foamed

And salted

Tho ever so

Lightly

Sun kissed

And polished

Till she

Shone more

Than brightly

 

Tears deep

Shed and truly

As guts spill

Onto the floor

From a table

With no room

To maneuver mid

Mountains of copper

And mildew departed

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

war torn, or storm torn....we leave our homes and come back to nothing...
just devastation and the daunting task of rebuilding...
can't imagine who hard it was after the Civil War for the reconstruction to happen...and after the hurricanes, the Bahamas...to rebuilt?
and now the states if Dorian decides...again...no room to maneuver, just flee to safety.
Mother Nature is not happy with us...and she had declared war.
j.

[Neville]

Bless you jacob my friend.. I do declare that again I suspect you are write...

[Robert Trakofler]

okay have come to this write numerous times now and 'm gonna take my shake at the define... I see this as a scene of a person in a slap dash hospital surgery in a war torn setting but not just of the scene but the scene as a part of her war torn and turned as well but in it a sense of beauty. The flow and feel of this write is an extraordinary heartfelt and palpable expression even for the standards that is Nev

[Neville]

Blimey Robert my good friend.. I think you have seen write through the smokescreen and landed wholly in the shell hole.. top marks for interpretation and having a heart as big as a planet...

[kitty]

Woeful dilemma some are caught up in. God/Nature is sending a stark message, with all these disasters and what is happening. To coin a phrase,'The world's gone mad!' Your words are true to form on the status quo.

[Neville]

Thank you Kitty...

[kitty]

Don't mention!

[barleygirl]

Your poem reminds me of a young lady poet who was at the cafe for a brief time while also living thru extreme bombing in Syria 2 yrs ago or so. I was stunned to my core by the amazingly beautiful poetry she created while being under such extreme conditions & danger. Your poem reminds me becuz of the way you blend the harsh reality with some bits of sweetness, immersing the reader in a sensory way (((SLUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Neville]

Cor blimey Margie what a lovely thing to share with me here..... (DOODLE-BUGS) fondly & true...

[Rhayne]

Being an East Coast resident of NC and to read this one today, scares me. Luckily, we still have power and Dorian has lost most of it's punch. Lived on the coast of NC and SC all my life and you never get used to the big storms, I don't care what some say. They're idiots to ever let their guard down. Storms and war, too similar to define. It's evacuate willingly or not; stand and fight, either way the results are always sad for most. Your talent to use and combine words to draw a mind's picture is awesome.

[Neville]

You are far too generous Rhayne but your encouraging comments and positivity are always welcome here and true... Neville

[emmajoy]

What an incredibly moving poem, Neville.. written in your inevitable brevity that somehow could fill a tome. You know how I love darling ancients, have sadly but willingly listened to their living history. Have heard so many tales, ones that could have erased hope from weaker minds. Our granny W. was sent to Suffolk, had a hard time up there which unknowingly hit her for life. As she aged she was a right rebel, never settled, explored life to the nth.. we called her crazy gran tho actually she did so much good with and in her adult life. It was that generation, male/female that set this country into a different set of thought, as history shows.

Your sensitivity really shines in this writing.. years on -so much in the interim. Would be easy enough to turn away from the less war-like goings on of WWII but you haven't. Such well refined poetry. Thank you. (Just thought of the hordes of small German children sent over here and I believe,to Sweden.. feel bad but can't remember what they were called)

[Neville]

Thank you kindly emmajoy.. yes those were tough times indeed.. aint we lucky these days, or relatively speaking aint we.... Bless ya and true N

[emmajoy]

Had to find out the word for the German littlies sent over here.. how disrespectful to have forgotten: Kindertransport. I know it doesnt apply to your words, but. those children were hit by Man's inhumanity to Man too.

[Neville]

they were indeed and in a big way.. I never knew that term until now.. thank you..

[Chris Shaw]

My Dad and my aunt were evacuated to Minehead during the war. My Dad thrived on it and loved the experience but his sister couldn't settle, pined for her parents and I can tell even now, how damaging it was for her. She has never gotten over those feelings of separation. My mum stayed in London and did much better because she had her mum and dad with her. I can't begin to imagine how awul it must have been to wave your children off at the station, not knowing whether you would ever see them again. Your poem conjures up many different situations about evacuation and being an evacuee, both in the past and in any situation of conflict. Nicely done Neville.

Chris

[Neville]

thank you Chris.. I agree entirely.. we have an awful lot to be thankful for.

Neville

[Lorry]

My parents were evacuated to Ireland during the war, which no doubt saved my future bacon. Those pesky gerries bombed the s**t out of clydebank. Only seven houses were left intact in the end. They bombed all along the Clyde to take out shipyards and factories.
They were made of sterner stuff than I, that generation. Make do and mend, Sunday best and can make anything with a bag of spuds and a tin of corned beef. Made for some weird birthday presents, let me tell you.
And we don't even realise how cushy we have it in comparison.
If it were my generation it happened to, we'd be commenting in German right now.
And what did they get in thanks? Tripe for dinner if they were lucky. And they were grateful for it!
The backbone of the country, one and all.

[Neville]

and everything was different when or if they eventually returned... Christmases were never the same... and all we got one year was the little metal key to that tin o corned boef you lot got....Often wondered if ya ever managed to open it before Easter... now there's another thing....

[Lorry]

Luxury. We used to stay in a discarded corned beef tin at the side of the road. All nine of us.
read moreLuxury. We used to stay in a discarded corned beef tin at the side of the road. All nine of us.
Sorry, couldn't help a bit of month python,😀

[Neville]

we were down pit... livin on the dark side of a shovel.... I mean the shovel...

[Lorry]

And try telling the youth of today that, and they'll be highly dubious. 😀

[Neville]

most would probably not know a spade or a shovel if it hit them in the forelock.... and I bet none would be able to tell them apart..

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

My mind and heart are so torn with those people screaming out in agony and fear....the sounds dont let me rest....

[Neville]

I just knew you would pick up on the sounds of panic... thanks my Queen for checking in.. tis much appreciated and true..

[Fay Slimm]

"Carnage-clipped hedges" set the scene of the hiding as evacuee meets with more than space needed - a beguiling finalé to this war-time drama which you quill with sad flow that stays after the read.

[Neville]

Bless you dear Fay.. I was reminded of my mother being evacuated from Plymouth during a recent conversation with my brother...

[Fay Slimm]

Ah - those must have been quite scary days when places like Plymouth got a hounding from skies thick with hate...... your evacuee Mom would always have remembered it well methinks Nev.

[Neville]

she did mention it occasionally... :)