BethAnne
Rebellious mystic from Alberta
So speak 100 words
The WonderArt Thread
- Thread starter Mendalla
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Hello
I'm new to this site but I posted infrequently on the original wondercafe. I have written for years, mostly poetry but some prose. Since I retired, I've also been dabbling in painting as well. This isn't a 100 word type of prose. It is something I wrote a while ago. Usually my poetry is uplifting but I wrote this feeling very angry. I live in a seniors retirement community and they asked us to put orange ribbons in front of our houses and shoes on our porches to honour the children of Kamploops. I didn't have any orange ribbon so I did this very quick painting instead. I'm not too technical so I hope it gets attached. Here is the poem.
Repeat Offenders
From the smooth lakes
Chortling rivers,
Forests deep,
Wide grassy plains
Rising hills
And quiet valleys
From mother, father,
Grandparents, cousins,
Aunts, uncles,
Brothers, sisters
Family and community
They were torn
Because
THE GOVERNMENT
THE CHURCH
KNEW WHAT WAS BEST
In their insatiable lust
For power and control
And because, they could
They stole the childhoods,
Of too many innocents
Taking the very essence
Of who each child was
Beating, abusing, raping,
Their body, mind, spirit,
Heart and soul
They murdered them
Some survived the horror
To become adults
At least outwardly
Often hiding their broken
Fear in anger, drugs and drink
Some tried to forget
Raising their own families
As best they could
Some went back to their land
And learned the old ways
Healing and trying to put
Themselves back together
So many did not
Grow up or go home
Not long ago
The PM apologized
The church too
For what was done
In the past
The schools are now
Museums, evidence
Of that brutal time
But the terror
Does not end
And at each discovery
Of further depravity
The wounds are ripped
Open to bleed once more
The news reports
Of the mass grave
In Kamloops
Brings shock to most
Memorials with
Teddy bears and tiny shoes
Flags at half mast
For 215 hours
Periods of silence in
Parliament and legislature
Everyone so revolted
That children died and disappeared
But it keeps happening
We haven’t learned the lessons
Of Nazi Germany, Bosnia,
Mei Lai, Congo, ……
What of the other children
Who lie in the ground
undiscovered?
What about their families,
Communities, who still
Mourn?
Why don’t we do something
To finally put an end to it?
The eagle weeps red tears,
The bear hangs her head
In sorrow
The turtle remains still
watching, remembering
And we keep repeating
Offending humanity and God June 1/21.
I'm new to this site but I posted infrequently on the original wondercafe. I have written for years, mostly poetry but some prose. Since I retired, I've also been dabbling in painting as well. This isn't a 100 word type of prose. It is something I wrote a while ago. Usually my poetry is uplifting but I wrote this feeling very angry. I live in a seniors retirement community and they asked us to put orange ribbons in front of our houses and shoes on our porches to honour the children of Kamploops. I didn't have any orange ribbon so I did this very quick painting instead. I'm not too technical so I hope it gets attached. Here is the poem.
Repeat Offenders
From the smooth lakes
Chortling rivers,
Forests deep,
Wide grassy plains
Rising hills
And quiet valleys
From mother, father,
Grandparents, cousins,
Aunts, uncles,
Brothers, sisters
Family and community
They were torn
Because
THE GOVERNMENT
THE CHURCH
KNEW WHAT WAS BEST
In their insatiable lust
For power and control
And because, they could
They stole the childhoods,
Of too many innocents
Taking the very essence
Of who each child was
Beating, abusing, raping,
Their body, mind, spirit,
Heart and soul
They murdered them
Some survived the horror
To become adults
At least outwardly
Often hiding their broken
Fear in anger, drugs and drink
Some tried to forget
Raising their own families
As best they could
Some went back to their land
And learned the old ways
Healing and trying to put
Themselves back together
So many did not
Grow up or go home
Not long ago
The PM apologized
The church too
For what was done
In the past
The schools are now
Museums, evidence
Of that brutal time
But the terror
Does not end
And at each discovery
Of further depravity
The wounds are ripped
Open to bleed once more
The news reports
Of the mass grave
In Kamloops
Brings shock to most
Memorials with
Teddy bears and tiny shoes
Flags at half mast
For 215 hours
Periods of silence in
Parliament and legislature
Everyone so revolted
That children died and disappeared
But it keeps happening
We haven’t learned the lessons
Of Nazi Germany, Bosnia,
Mei Lai, Congo, ……
What of the other children
Who lie in the ground
undiscovered?
What about their families,
Communities, who still
Mourn?
Why don’t we do something
To finally put an end to it?
The eagle weeps red tears,
The bear hangs her head
In sorrow
The turtle remains still
watching, remembering
And we keep repeating
Offending humanity and God June 1/21.
Attachments
KayTheCurler
Well-Known Member
Wow - just WOW!
Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for sharing.
Storybook Princess
The little girl sat on her bed ready to read her favourite book. It was late but she always had time to join the fantastical character of Lala as she maneuvered her way through a magical kingdom wearing her crown and carrying her sceptre waiting for her prince. She soon fell asleep with a smile and began her dream.
The next morning it was Lala who woke up in the little girls bed and as she leafed through the book she saw the little girl embedded inside....briefly she mourned.
Lala closed the book, and it was never opened again.
The little girl sat on her bed ready to read her favourite book. It was late but she always had time to join the fantastical character of Lala as she maneuvered her way through a magical kingdom wearing her crown and carrying her sceptre waiting for her prince. She soon fell asleep with a smile and began her dream.
The next morning it was Lala who woke up in the little girls bed and as she leafed through the book she saw the little girl embedded inside....briefly she mourned.
Lala closed the book, and it was never opened again.
Mendalla
Happy headbanging ape!!
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Posted this in Room for All, but it fits here, too. There's a new competition up at the writing site I frequent, Stories Space, so I'm posting information here for anyone who wants to join and take a shot at it. US$ prizes are involved and you've got a month to write 1001-5000 words. The regulars will recall that I won a first prize in the last competition on the site (story should be linked somewhere upthread).
www.storiesspace.com
A Survivor’s Story Competition
Sometimes things happen that are beyond our control. We want to hear about the survivor(s). The brave people that made it through despite all odds. It can be from Action to Thriller and everything in between. You can base it on your real-life experiences or it can be pure fiction. All...
Mendalla
Happy headbanging ape!!
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
This is the one that won.My latest scribbling is about a goddess who wants to have some fun. It's an entry in Stories Space's 10th anniversary competition for Flash-length stories (500-1000 words roughly) and getting some good responses.
JayneWonders
Administrator
- Pronouns
- She/Her/Her
JayneWonders
Administrator
- Pronouns
- She/Her/Her
BethAnne
Rebellious mystic from Alberta
You too!
Mendalla
Happy headbanging ape!!
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
SHould have a few of your sky pictures in here anyhow. Thanks for that.Oops...seem to have ventured out of Last Post
BethAnne
Rebellious mystic from Alberta
Mendalla
Happy headbanging ape!!
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
And my latest story is up. It's an entry in "A Survivor's Story", the latest competition over on Stories Space. A bit dark, but hopeful, is what I was aiming for. See if you think I hit the mark.
www.storiesspace.com
Us Survivors
A survivor of the streets takes a walk on a steamy, sleepless night
www.storiesspace.com