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Abattoirs Poems

Note: The forms for these poems were selected by the poet. Often poems are assigned the wrong form. Please confirm the accuracy of the poetic form before referencing the poem.

List of New Poems

PMPoem TitlePoetFormFormCategories  
STOLEN ILLUMINATION OF THE STAR Albert E. Audi Narrative Narrative abattoirs, political,
UPON NIGER BRIDGE Bolaji Kingsley Ogunbiyi Lyric Lyric abattoirs, anger,
Where blood is not enough Solomon Ochwo-Oburu Epic Epic abattoirs, allegory, destiny, heartbroken, humanity,
Reality john scott Rhyme Rhyme abattoirs, wisdom,
MY VALENTINE RITUALS Alayande Stephen Free verse Free verse abattoirs, addiction, anniversary, corruption, fear,
The Face of the Buddha L. J. Carber Free verse Free verse abattoirs, angst, bereavement, betrayal, corruption,
The Coming steve madden Free verse Free verse abattoirs, visionary,
The Last Of Summer Tony Bush Verse Verse abattoirs, allegory, death, history, life,

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Above are examples of poems about abattoirs. This list of poems is composed of the works of modern international poet members of PoetrySoup. Read short, long, best, famous, and modern examples of abattoirs poetry. This list of works is an excellent resource for examples of these types of poems.

Abattoirs Poem Example

The Face of the Buddha

( This poem is about the ' Killing Fields' of Cambodia, 1975-79,  where as many as 2 million people were murdered by the communist Khmer Rouge. I taught in Phnom-Penh from '73-74, and never met a people I liked more.)

They haunt me still, the brown children laughing,
always laughing, The women voluptuous,
languid, their movement an invitation....

Even the traffic policeman, crisp, clean in uniform,
moving with ballerina grace as hordes of cyclos and mopeds
and the occasional automobile pirouette endlessly about him,
impatient bees made quiescent by surreal beauty of white-gloved arms
cutting through thick tropical air....

Everywhere was grace, gentleness: temples incandescent at dawn,
with ant trails of orange-robed monks cradling their pot-belly begging bowls,
The patient women standing by the road to lump rice into the begging bowls,
the monks always staring blankly ahead as the women bowed low in reverence,
grateful their gift of life was taken....

And how wondrous it was: an accident in the street, yet no anger,
no bile--forgiveness, felt before thought, thought before uttered.

How could such a people murder?
No, not murder-- slaughter!
Their mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles,
teachers, priests, friends and children too.
Change temples of peace into charnel-houses?
Schools of knowledge into abattoirs?

They photographed every butchered lamb,
like the devil's children on holiday,
and decorated the classroom walls,
a show-and-tell of horror and despair.

Why? Why? Why such pain on such gentle people?
Why did God hide His face while the world turned its back?

Forty,forty,forty years and still...still they haunt me. 


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