Many times I cannot face another day;
I cannot get out of bed.
I just wish that I and my
Children were all dead.
If only we could die
And get it over with,
We would all be so much better.
I pull the shades down and close them tight,
I lock the door.
I and my children sit in a darken corner
Of the room to hide from the day.
The only thing I am confident about
Is that the future holds absolutely nothing for me.
Every night I cry myself to sleep.
Anguish is my way of life forevermore.
Suffering will be my children’s
Way of life likewise.
All of us are condemned to this horrible world,
Where I abhor every wakening moment
Of my wretched life.
It all becomes so vibrant to me
Whenever I close my eyes,
My horrifying future and that of my children.
My nightmares are nothing more than the
Destruction,
Bodies floating,
Decay,
Death.
New Orleans after Katrina
Do you sit in judgment of me?
My home has been devastated.
All of my belongings are vanished.
My family, friends and my neighbors
Are now gone forever, never ever to return.
I am transported between one run down shelter
To another run down shelter.
I have given up all hope,
The neighborhood will never be rebuilt,
It will never return to normal again.
Never again.
17th Street Canal New Orleans after Katrina
Not an easy subject to tackle – bravely done.
I was trying to show how it must feel, like if I know. It was using a psychological profile of patients. I know tornados and such are very ruff too, and people move everyday, but in Katrina they lost their entire social support network by moving everyone out and around the country when they needed that stable support the most. Thank you very much, I appreciate your words.
The sea level of the Gulf has always been a fickle nature with no compassion for those that insist on rebuilding in her path. New Orleans was told over fifty years ago that she would enter their door – yet, they left that problem to the future generations that live today. My neighbors in the South have critical planning to do. Their salvation can only happen when the economy returns to a thriving level, allowing them to move to safer ground and become aware their first line of defense is themselves. All the compassion in my heart cannot solve this problem for them. I seem to remember a story somewhere about building on a solid foundation…but, the trend is to disregard the sources of ideas like that.
Randall, if you should ever offer all your poems in a book, I would buy one for each of my kids and grandchildren. I realize you can’t do that now, because your work is not finished yet.
Unfortunately relying on a bunch of broken levees did not work. So many prophecies they would not, but very few listened. I would like to write a book. I guess you could consider this my trial area to write the poems, post them, and then see what the reaction will be. If not good, scrape it, if liked, keep it. Thank you for your kind support. I love knowing that I have at least one customer.
Randall,
This is a mavelously written poem and well worth inclusion in your book!!
The Catholic Church that I went to school at from 1st to 8th grade did a huge drive back then for clothing, furniture and money. I helped my mom some and so did my husband (and he’s not even Catholic,lol.) I got to talk to some of the evacuated refugees that were being housed locally and it was so sad and heartbreaking to hear their stories. I wished that I could do more but we are pretty poor and so I did the best I could. One elderly black gentleman was a Catholic and so I, being a beadworker, hand made him a rosary and he almost cried when he got it. It made me feel really good that he was so touched by such a small gesture
Blessings, peace and love, Terri
I truly appreciate your insight into this story. When you lose everything, usually any kind of gesture is of immense importance to people. We must remember this and try our best when helping them. Thank you so very much for your story and your helping such victims.
It ‘s not only a tough subject, but one that’s been replaced in mainstream media by more immediate news, and so, largely forgotten. Thanks for using your voice and your platform for reminding us that their plight didn’t end when the news coverage died down.
There are still so many displaced and so much of the city in ruins. Thank you very much for stopping by and sharing your comment. I appreciate it.
Ilike the way you write, interesting and important subjects and strong story telling through your peoms.
kind thoughts
Kate
Thank you for your kind comment and for stopping by.
I remember seeing the devastation of Katrina in a news bulletin when it happened, and afterwards Katrina, and the American government’s (lack of) response to it seemed to become a weapon to be used in the presidential elections; the focus veered away from the people who were displaced by it, the people of New Orleans whose lives were forever changed, and that, to me, was the continuing tragedy of Katrina. I’m not American, but it is possible to empathise across thousands of miles because of the shared human connection.
You liked my post in my blog and I couldn’t resist coming to look at yours. I’m glad I did.
-A
It seems here (in this country) everyone quickly gets thrown aside then it gets to politics while the sufferers are then thrown under the bus and ignored. Thank you so much for checking my blog and commenting.
I am not an inhalant of New Orleans – or even the U.S. – but I know the sub-personality described so accurately and movingly here. Kudos! You now have a new follower.
Thank you so much for coming by and commenting. I means a lot to me.
Wow. This is way heavy. I felt it very much, truly. How awfully weighted down we are some days. It is just too much to move. Yet we do, and then again. Let’s just make it for a worthwhile purpose, then.
Loved your post.
Sometimes things can just get to much. Thank you so much for your visit and comment. I really appreciate.
I’m keeping an eye on your site, you’ve lots of interesting ideas,I thought the first few lines encapsulated depression extremely well.
So many had such enormous problems following the storm. Of course their lives had been destroyed. Thank you so much for stopping by and commenting. Appreciate it very much.
Wow powerful, brutal. I love your work, your writings about reality, like this one, are daring, powerful, and accurate. It’s impressive
Thank you so much. I try for accuracy on these reality poems.
A very moving, heart-wrenching poem! It reminds me of one I wrote a decade ago. I posted it on my other blog a year or so ago:
http://theeducationcafe.wordpress.com/2010/01/29/and-the-storm-came/
Thanks for stopping by Delana’s World today and commenting on the below post:
http://delanasworld.wordpress.com/2011/10/21/the-beauty-of-an-aging-mind/
Blessings!
Thank you for stopping by here.
A truly beautiful and moving poem -thank you for sharing this with us
Thank you for stopping by and commenting.
What a good job you did of “getting inside” the psyche of one who has lost so much and has so little support compared to their previous “world.” Judging only that more “inner” stories like this are what will help shape the tomorrows for all of us as we help one another on whatever floods or fires we walk through on earth. Reminds me of a short short fiction piece I wrote years ago, if I can find it, I’ll post it, was about an immigrant woman who throws her children off a bridge and then hurls herself after them… because she could see no light at all, there was no one to hear her and no one to call… Powerful piece, Randall
What you said about the women who through her children off the bridge reminds me of stories of so many of the Japanese civilians when Americans come to their islands in WW II, they were so afraid of us, that they killed their children then themselves instead of surrendering. So very sad.