Monday, February 18, 2013

Antebellum Ghosts

Wind of History by Jacek Yerka

Antebellum stares
with broken glass eyes
at the flooded bones
of yesterday littering
the front lawn.

Moss etches an epitaph
into the crumbling sentries
of pillar and stone that attempted
to defend slavery’s bastion
from the onslaught of freedom.

Centuries lie in rusted amnesia
bleeding its forgotten lessons
into the soil once fertile with rebirth.

Gone with the wind is the grace
of what could have been leaving
ghosts to haunt with agony’s remorse.



©Susie Clevenger 2013

27 comments:

Berowne said...

Ingenious, vivid and highly original take on the prompt...

Sue said...

Love the "antebellum" take on this prompt.

Well done!

=)

anthonynorth said...

You create a great atmosphere in this.

Jinksy said...

And you captured the time of 'gone with the wind' very well...

Laurie Kolp said...

I just love the way you set the mood from the very start... that first stanza is amazing, Susie.

Anonymous said...

Atmospheric. A memory of history.

Gerry@Strummed Words said...

Atmospheric. Recapturing the past. Nice take on the prompt.

Mary said...

Very clever. You gave the house a story!

Lisa Williams said...

"centuries lie in the rusted amnesia bleeding its forgotten lessons"...This is truly a remarkable poem, beautiful!

Yvonne Osborne said...

I love "broken glass eyes" and your antebellum take on this.

Helen said...

Susie, love how you connected the architecture of the home with the South, slavery and freedom. Really lovely.

Mama Zen said...

Gorgeous! That second stanza is breathtaking.

Eusebia Philotes said...

I'm dwelling on "broken glass eyes" and all the possibilities they offer relative to the rest of the poem - and enjoying it. Thanks, Susie.

Sharp Little Pencil said...

Susie, this is a strong poem. The aftermath of slavery and the scars that still remain are reflected here. It's interesting that the image seems to be a lovely facade, which contributes well to the poem, as the "South Will Rise Again" drumbeat still thumps. Peace, Amy
http://sharplittlepencil.com/2013/02/18/599-wheres-my-pencil/

Tatius T. Darksong said...

each line speaks so much in itself, very good Susie

Abin Chakraborty said...

this has all the charm of a true gothic.great stuff.

Kutamun said...

Brava!, very clever

Herotomost said...

This speaks heavily to the other side of the coin through the appropriate side of the coin. I often get shit from people when I talk about the fine line of human existence and the reasons for our thoughts and actions. If I was raised by the same people in an earlier time, I may have been right there in the inappropriate mix of things...and truly believed that I was right. Thank the stars that I wasn't, an open mind comes the ability to decipher the codes of the universe as they were written (for the heart) not as they are inked by others. Truly some good stuff here Susie...you are on a roll lately, and I am so happy to see that.

Kerry O'Connor said...

The opening stanza is just amazing, Susie. I was hooked!

Margaret said...

yes, you captured it... the south's shame, the amnesia that seeps into the earth.

I love touring and seeing the southern cities and plantations... but it really wasn't charming at all, was it?

razzamadazzle said...

This is great. It fits the prompt perfectly!

Hannah said...

Susie!! This is all great...

I love this:

"Centuries lie in rusted amnesia
bleeding its forgotten lessons"

Sherry Blue Sky said...

What a wonderfully brooding, atmospheric response to the prompt. I can feel the musty interior, the cobwebs, the haunting emptiness.

Tess Kincaid said...

Just watched Gone With The Wind on TCM...love your take...

Ginny Brannan said...

"...and Tara cried."

Love where you took this, Susie. Into the annals of history; memories and epitaphs etched in more than one kind of stone. Excellent capture!

Carrie Burtt said...

"rusted amnesia".....what an amazing line Susie! :-)

zongrik said...

gorgeous, i like the allusion to gone with the wind, and how it flows into losing grace. the grace was all superficial.