He wrote a book
to stay alive
one page at a time
in his mind
when the ash
fell like hot snow
on his bones -
he would remember
the burn
wear the skin
of the numbered
and tell the story
of millions
to a little girl
under a willow tree
on a soft yellow blanket
Author notes
Prompt: Ashes
a Holocaust survivor - my Grandfather
In a list
A contest entry
- Ash with AJ Morelli by Cat.
2550 points, ended September 2, 17 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 28 of 28
-
this is so great.
helen~
-
Harvey,
I missed this one. I'm catching up with going thru your
works.This is so very good. I wish I knew your secret for finding the right words to write. ~wear the skin
of the numbered~ That says so much.
Very good poetry.
Joe
-
-
I am semi-seriously considering a tatoo- and I hate tatoos- of Louis Van tyn's, a survivor of Aushwitz, the crude arm numbers. Because soon there will be no more. Do you remember the first time you saw the arm tatoos?
His wife, Rose, still does public speaking, and is my friend. I wrote a poem for her- I'll get it. -
The small number of words makes each so much more poignant; I can taste them with every reread. Powerful and deeply emotional in a very subtle way...
-
i like this, especially the very wistful and personal close... when i was a kid i hung out at a candy store owned by two holocaust survivors, to this day i remember just how the numbers where tatooed on their forearms, chilling... morris and natasha were their names, thank you for taking me back there and for this very touching piece...
al -
Lane, this is one of your best...a beautiful poem.
-
Being Jewish; knowing many people who went through the Holocaust, studying its history and reading the stories, this poem hit home.
I wasn't clear on what these few lines were referencing and would love if you'd take the time to explain:
"when the ash
fell like hot snow
on his bones -"
Is this referring to flashbacks after the war (which is what I would have assumed) or still during the war (as the words seem to portray.)
It's a story of a generation lost, and one that needs to be told so it is not forgotten. Nice write.
-
after several reads i have some specific thoughts on this piece
and i hope you don't mind me expounding on them just a tad
My first and most blatant thought is that i was grateful you explored something solid like this piece {i know that you have been doing that alot lately and it's good to see it in our contest too}
for me- the end of this poem is the strength of the poem
the small detail of soft yellow blanket creates a visual that takes the reader's mind
to the storytelling at hand-
i don't know how well i will be able to explain my thoughts on the rest of the piece- but i'm going to try- what i (as just one reader's opinion) think
is that it tries to be too much-
if the strength lies in the small, soft detail at the end
then for me- the rest would be strengthened by using that approach- i think
sometimes as writers we tend to overexplain that which the reader already knows-
for example- we know what the ashes are
so you can say ash
without over explaining (of humanity)
he remembered the burn
of ashes falling like hot snow
he didn't have to tell the story of millions (because we the reader knows there were millions) he just needs to tell his story
the two versions
the self story
and the story of millions would be profoundly different poetry- and the strength of this particular poem
lies in the soft yellow blanket and the moment
shared by a grandfather and a daughter-
i hope this makes sense-
i think this subject is worth exploring again and again and writing moments of his memories as very personal moments.
thanks so much
mary
-
-
you're right about the "humanity" thing...I took it out and it does look better...
thank you so much for taking the time to give me some good advise - i never really get any critiques, so this is VERY appreciated.
Love, Lane
-
-
You never cease to suprise and amaze, you create another world with each word you write. This was fascinating. Best to you
-
Gold.
You're poetry is WAY above average.
Paul
-
-
so is yours
-
-
Wow Lane, your grandfather would be so proud!
Meg~
-
stunning.
-
-
Thank you, Lady
It is good to see you here. Love, Lane
-
-
My Lady
You have the singular ability to strike me dumb.
-
Powerful stuff, this.
That blanket, that soft yellow blanket puts this bit of history in the moment.
Nicely done.
-
yes, your powerful words can make people rise from the ashes and narrate the stories to the next generation...
-
Lanie you have a gift that very few possess and that is the ability to awaken the sometimes dorment shades of the soul in the reader . . . This you do to me with damn near ever read I am lucky enough to catch as it floats by my computer screen . . . If I had the financial wherewithall at my disposal I'D PUBLISH THAT BOOK FOR YOU WITHOUT HESITATION!!!!!! Keep your pen flowing girl . . .
love, Marc
-
I swear, I will try very hard to think of a prompt that inspires you to write something like this.
Your poetry freaking amazes me.
"He wrote a book
to stay alive"
Now this makes me think of poets/authors in general.
"ashes of humanity"
Awesome & poignant phrase.
"fell like hot snow
on his bones -
he would remember
the burn"
Okay, kick-ass jux. with snow & "the burn"...hot snow, what an awesome, original idea that's so befitting.
"wear the skin
of the numbered"
So powerful...wow, how the hell do you do that in so few words?
"to a little girl
under a willow tree
on a soft yellow blanket"
Is the color yellow relevant here??
Methinks the girl is you...obvious observation.
I love it
,
Jessica
-
Like Mairi, I don't know what to say either. Maybe I'll just say... Thank you!
-
Everyone is saying wow. What is there left for me to say?
-
Stunning Lane and I too heard the stories as a boy, from my great Uncle and Grandfather, both of whom served in WWII. I also remember seeing pictures of the camps that my Grandfather took himself. He was an ambulance driver/medic in Europe and my great Uncle was an infantryman fighting for Ireland.
All the best,
With much love,
mj.
-
WOW......
-
Never forget what humankind is capable of..
Of course that can go two ways.
Thank you for sharing this with us.
-
beautifull and strong especially this:w
ear the skin
of the numbered
and tell the story
of millions
to a little girl
under a willow tree
on a soft yellow blanket -
Wow!
What an avalanche of images and pain. In your panoply of great poems, this is a brilliant star.
Adding your comment:
1 - 28 of 28
