Thread: Bip the Clown

Nineteen-Forty France danced and sang
in its out-door’s Strasbourg cabaret
where a young Jew boy spoke.
Spoke with a wind gust
before his people were bovine-porcine,
herded by goose steppers to Herr Wolfsk’s kitchen.
His big black ovens birthing death.
Big belly’s of white smoke pushed into a sky, shut eyed.
“Ouch, ouch Auschwitz!”
jeered the fair haired Hitlerjugends,
clean slates, neat, watching thin meat
eaten customarily by monumental infernos
while hearing Wagner’s “Tan Hauser”
within a spit, spit, spiting distance.
Marcel, the young boy, who spoke
before the wrong camp, knew the reek
of his tatinka, a kosher butcher, put on the slab
before the combustion. Before the putrid sin.
Oh, sweet silence.
Oh, sweet shield.
The boy will murder his voice
before it’s stolen by the last lethal lullaby.
Quiet - saving when leading little ones to Switzerland.
Young father, teacher of mime.
No voice will save a child.
Little hands moving around round faces,
cupping pink ears, tongues stirring overtime,
eyelids stretched down before the herder child,
who’d become the man with the white face,
wearing a striped pull over and a be-flowered silk opera hat.
Bip the Clown, outfitted to underline life's fragility.
Giant, generous gestures on stage,
his only words,
making us laugh like pink eared children.
Master of L’art du Silence.
He went to a leading school.

In Memory of Marcel Marceau

Had to look this one up. I'm wondering what brought this on...

I dare say this is your best piece. The Auschwitz imagery is brave and rendered perfectly. It's chilling, yet soft - as if it were written in quiet reflection. I think that's appropriate. Your command of sound on the line is exceptional here, as is your occasional rhyme. And the end line is just... it! Heh - can't describe it. You don't wrap this in a bow - you simply present it as is - no frills, no fancy. Such art is only practiced by the most accomplished hands.

It's not often I am blown away. Well done.

I very nearly agree with Squalid, there were a couple of minor niggles for me,

in its outdoor’s Strasbourg cabaret

would be "in its out-door Strasbourg cabaret"

clean slates, neat, watching thin meat
eaten greedily by monumental infernos
while hearing Wagner’s “Tan Hauser”
within a spit, spit, spiting distance.

Here I felt the reader should be able to supply the middle two lines, they are almost cliché. I would like to see,
"clean slates, neat, watching thin meat
Upon a spit, spit, spiting distance."

But that's me, and it's not my poem; and it's a tiny part of a whole I loved.

Laurie,

As Squalid Glass said, this is a chilling piece. What sparked this? You tell one of the most horrific tales of our time in a gentle, yet unwavering style.

Cindy

Glass and Cindy, I’m glad you both asked what incited this piece. Strange things happen. I was standing in front of my bookcase scanning for a certain book and spotted my trilogy of “The Gulag Archipelago” remembering my heartbreak and fury during the reading years ago. Now, who wants to think of the Holocaust on a Friday night? I put it out of my mind and in came Marcel Marceau, wondering what brought about his box bit. I look him up and to my great shock I discovered that he was a survivor of Auschwitz. Coincidence? I don’t know but a poem had to be written. Yes Glass, I wrote it with restraint. Everyone knows the atrocities. Why go over them again? Though, holding back did take the stuffing out of me.

Really, thank you both for your generous comments and that question!

PS Now I understand the box bit. His captivity. He made that box so real. No mystery, now.


Olly, thank you for your comments regarding this poem. I do agree that
eaten greedily by monumental infernos is rather a cliche. I changed it to
eaten customarily by monumental infernos.

out-door is also correct and I think I'll employ it.

It's rare that you visit, so I'm especially honored that you took time out of your schedule to critique my poem, making it a better one. Again, thank you so much. Laurie

I know nothing historically on the specific details, but this reads very rich - and all the details are artfully woven together, and really seem you know what you are talking about, or read up and absorbed quite a lot - I like the paradoxes, and the alliterations- "ouch ouch Aucshwitz" stands out to me
---todd

"Ouch, Ouch Aucshwitz" was the beginning of a poem I wrote years ago (a very poor one) It's meant to be a very gross understatement of the horrific. I'm pleased you liked it, toddm. Yes, there is quite a bit of history here. I've read up years ago and then the recent research on Marceau. Thank you.

You never fail to astound me, Laurie.

I like your poem. It is rich and sharp and evocative.

I have just returned from a holiday near Limoges and a visit to Oradour-sur-Glane where the Nazi's massacred over 600 men, women and children one afternoon. But more pertinently, a year or so ago I visited Auschwitz and it was your descriptions of the furnaces which I found particularly poignant and descriptive.

"His big black ovens birthing death". is a mixed-metaphor but all the more chilling (sorry I cant find a better word) for that. I have stood in the entrance to the ovens which are now flattened, and been inside one which was not destroyed.

"fair haired Hitlerjugends, clean slates, neat, watching thin meat eaten customarily by monumental infernos" is a remarkable and accurate description of how one group of human beings could see another group as sub-human. And of course it was the Nazi's who were sub-human. I wrote a long piece of prose after I visited Auschwitz, as I could not find a verse or words to express how I felt afterwards. I think you have, as well as it is possible to even start to describe the sickening nightmare of the place and what happened there.

My only comment on the rest of your poem is that it does necessitate a visit to Wikipedia, ae said and rememberednd I wonder if breaking it into verses would have helped? Thanks for posting this. These things need to be said and remembered.

Celest, how great that you dropped in. What a wonderful compliment but believe me I push myself...

Ravel, I will borrow Celeste's word "astounding". Astounding in that you actually stood in front of the wire gates of hell. I would love to read your prose about your experience. I think that genre is a much more challenging one than writing about it in verse.

I wonder if breaking it into verses would have helped?

Ravel, I'm laughing because most all my poems are broken down in verse with this exception and maybe two more. I wanted it to be read as a kind of story while keeping taps on the lyrical. But now you have me thinking. I might re-work it into stanzas and see which is more effective. Thanks.

These things need to be said and remembered

They certainly do. And to think that there are those who say it never happened. I'm at a loss for words concerning this.

That you visited Auschwitz and say here that I've done a good job with this piece is a magnificent compliment. I thank you. Laurie

Laurie - thanks for your kind response. I would be happy to share my written thoughts on Auschwitz - however inadequate they felt. Where would it be appropriate to share this on the site (or elsewhere) ?

I visited with my daughter - and we have also been to Amsterdam (to see Anne Franks House) and Berlin (including the Wall and the Jewish museum). Add to this last week's visit to Oradour-sur-Glane . . . there are evidences and records of appalling atrocities everywhere across Europe. And all within the last 75 years. It's impossible to imagine or comprehend. And those who spoke out (if we can use that word for Marceau) showed amazing courage. "For evil to prosper all it needs is for good people to do nothing".

PS - apologies for my shabby typing in my note above - I only just noticed !

Hi, Ravel. I would post your prose in Fiction. As a writer, I doubt you'll just be stating facts but will be using creative licenses. When I first joined WF I posted a memoir excerpt in Non-Fiction and the responses were very harsh. I suppose because they deal with "facts" exclusively. Go take a look at both Forums and see how you feel about it. This is just my suggestion. You may want to bring this subject up with one of the Moderators in Fiction. I'm very anxious to read about your experiences which had to leave a monumental impact on you.

Anne Frank's home, the wall and the museum? You certainly did cover allot of intense territory. I applaud you for taking on the writing of the criminal which must weigh heavy on you.


Again, looking very much forward to the read. Laurie

Thanks Laurie - I am unable to post yet as my accounts is "awaiting activation". So I shall await that I guess I am wondering of this is linked to the "10 replies before you post" ethic.

Non-fiction does seem to be the place for "essays" . . . so maybe I will risk the harsh responses.

I am not sure I could ever get inside a criminal's head - for those who acted "under orders" to kill others, I can only assume they did so out of their own fear, which over-rode any human pity or decency.

Go where you feel it's right for you! And don't forget to let us know when it's posted.