Adam’s story

warning: adult material

How I came upon Adam, the first adopted.


 

The rain fell in sheets through the day.

At night the thin canvas drenched, ripped.

Adam could not sleep, the shifting clay

Of his dreams turned to terror,

And curled into my curve he lay

Shivering, reliving the horror;

 

The earth watered by blood, his parents’ –

Skin stripped, wrapped in their own entrails,

Hanging a bait for the ancients,

Vultures wheeling, wings wind filled sails,

Waiting for the crossing, death’s sigh

To release the tormented soul’s I –

 

I found him lashed to a barbed post,

A note nailed proclaiming his life

Had sprung not from the pure, the host

Living inside The Book, its pages rife

With judgements for those people lost,

Their fate delivered with a dull knife.

 

I carried him back to my torn tent

Pegged among hundreds, all innocent,

Their stories twittering the internet

A moment’s distraction, briefly

Engaging, killed immediately

By posts of puppies which clearly

 

Matter more than an orphaned boy.

Above us skies weep, breasts broken.

He rests folded into my folds.

© PilgermannBM 2021
Views: 264
critique and comments welcome.
Subscribe
Notify of
6 Comments
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
Ifyouplease

I have to say something about this poem, which as you say is autobiographical. Skinning anything alive is a process not fast enough to kill almost everyone in a village and go to another and continue the killing. Partly skinning may be fast enough such as scalping. Of course I have questions, this skinning alive doesn’t happen often, where did all these happen? What was the reason for such a fanatic hatred towards the inhabitants of this village or town? Why did they still live near such fanatic hordes without effective self-defence? Who trained these hordes? Who left the people… Read more »

Last edited 2 months ago by ifyouplease
Ifyouplease

Syria. As you know I am Greek and my country this place is the crossroad, there are thousands of stories and the fight hasn’t stopped, stories from the Ottoman occupation and prior to that the Crusades which brought at least as horrendous atrocities as the things you describe here. But what I ask right now is should we all grow with such stories and learn to listen to them, as conversations with our folks, tv or radio and newspapers and so on? I am sure you can imagine this scenario. You wake up make yourself a cup of coffee turn… Read more »

Ifyouplease

to give you an example which is autobiographical too, I used to live in fear more than now, I still live in fear I try to control it and rationalize it, analyze it, then I met one of the older cousins of my husband, a woman, back then in her late thirties and she was the celibate cousin, the fat cousin, though you could see she was very beautiful, if she tried a bit to lose weight and all the things we women (mostly) do and she is also bright, but failed to finish highschool, or something like that and… Read more »

Last edited 2 months ago by ifyouplease
Bhi

I remember you saying “we are all complicit” – there are many of us working for change. This is a bloody reminder of the evils humans visit upon each other, but do not lose hope.

Flag Content