Saving Grace 2.0 ( A Modern Poem)

SaigonDeManila By SaigonDeManila, 23rd Jan 2015 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Fictional Verse

The concluding story of girl who lived on odds with life and found solace and eventual good fortune from a rag doll who witness and accompanied her hurdles to decent life she deserves. \

Opening Senryu

surreal urban scene
crawling life and struggling norms
wish I'd never known .

-from the original draft 5/15/13

"smoke and fire"

Watching from the hilltop,
the observer notices little difference
from factory cloths, the glint of the needles,
the clatter of shuttles, the snip of scissors...
the collection of cottons in so many colors...
the boxes of buttons, all sorted and spilled...
the workers like bees between aisles of machines.
The buzz of work, people pollinating the shrubs of cloth,
the petals of metal, the blooming hillocks of rainbowed
spillages, notice little difference if you rule out money
rule out disease, political unease notice little
difference ruling out comfort, or shelter
or wealth education, good health,
notice little difference from
the grace of the girl,
the doll,
The dump truck roars, announcing its return, slowly marching into the moonlit dregs.
To a kingdom ruled next to filth, they’ll burn on a beautiful wistful night under an
elegant moon that’s unusually light, a doll in her hand on a dreamy night.
The observer stands to yawn, to stretch in the forgetting of time
and place, to notice the sketch of a new moon, no half scythe
swinging in the sky and gone is the sun, all seamless
are the dyes of color, all one, but tiny bits try
tiredly to force a moonlit wink.
Bones ache from sitting idly
on a distant hill watching
the workers and reminiscing,
the in-distinctive dull rag mounds, the footpath’s
trail looks altogether a dreamy landscape route under
a sky where watchful stars do hang and shoot to make rubbish look
like dark boxed jewels, and scavengers, as slow as shadows now, huddled
up like dark carved dolls or cardboard shepherds for the nativity, pushed by
a Prometheus hand along the path...the hamster wheel...eternity...infinity?
turns away.
Leaves the hill,
its silhouettes, which
almost scare him half to death,
to walk another path, just another,
with regrets, but hope for Grace, lest he for one forgets in haste.
"smoke and fire.."

time and place
was rearranged and on
the hill she stood so very still,
the sirens shrilling, women shouting,
men swarming, she kneel to something
strange horizon ranged,beyond the noise
against the acrid odor of poverty, smoke and fire
so overpowering, monster orange,a beast's identity,
as fear engulfs, the impoverished sea like a disturbed
ant of humanity. A night of chaos, a silent sob, a rag companion
to blot out the mob, speechless heart bleeding emotion on fire!
Unaware of eyes across the dust, the media and t.v crews,
as the pink dawn broke it threw a light over the burning
smoking sight, it became apparent that their plight
was far from over. The sanctuary they had always
known was a charred shell,no longer a home.
When the media showed the face of the girl
Holding Grace in the smoking swirl...
Pity reached out across the world,
to save the girl ..
from running
wild a scavenging child.
Surreal urban scene it all came
to be crawling life and struggling norms
wish I'd never known as the clearing was shown under the
rubble of the burnt domain charred bodies over turned revealed as Grace’s
parents, press cover in a frenzy for Grace's sympathy. The observer, in a
distant place, saw the tragic news, remembered Grace the girl and
doll, and as a poet, declared as he sat down with his family to a
meal, ' My homage to your smiling innocence, dear Grace!
Your beautiful bravery, My homage to your freedom
from behind the bars
of my barefoot,

"burnt domain"

©All rights reserved
by:SaigondeManila, Maria Disley, Karen Newell

-Keep Writing, Keep Sharing

Art Credit: "Filther Feeders" by Paul Hilario,
Image: WIkicommons

Source: Discussion Thread

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Dolls, Drama, Literature, Poetic Devices, Poetic Justice, Poetic License, Poetic Prose, Poetic Verse, Poetical Form, Poetical Musings, Poetry, Poverty, Social Issues, Successs, Triumph

Meet the author

author avatar SaigonDeManila
Dear friends and foes: I am a teacher, a poet, an artist, self-published author on art & poetry, CSN Life Skill coach and an international marketer.

See my archives @

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author avatar Carol Roach
23rd Jan 2015 (#)

that medical inventory was amazing you are so good as a poet. Are you published

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author avatar SaigonDeManila
24th Jan 2015 (#)

this haven't published yet ..but we have previous collaborated poetry book which I "reviewed" (short of promoting) as my first article here in Wikinut.

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author avatar Utah Jay
23rd Jan 2015 (#)

Simply wonderful. Such enjoyment in reading this...And I thought I was a poet.

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author avatar SaigonDeManila
24th Jan 2015 (#)

Lexicon Comrade Utah Jay, you made my day on that compliments hahaha! I share the honor with my co-authors who we extraordinarily created this poem when I throw the Painting that served as inspiration,one verse after the other without script or theme. It could go on and on until we realized it's a near epic proportion!

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author avatar Fern Mc Costigan
27th Jan 2015 (#)

Wonderful piece of work and poetry as well mate, cheers!

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author avatar SaigonDeManila
27th Jan 2015 (#)

Cheers to you as well for discovering my pages this far!

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