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Stories / Stories / Esther SP. Buhrman / Text 20 of 25 / Solitary Confinement (Poem)

"Solitary Confinement (Poem)" by Esther SP. Buhrman

SciFi/Fantasy text 20 out of 25 by Esther SP. Buhrman. ←Previous - Next→

This poem was written as an exercise given by James K. Bowers - using four words: aim, decay, wise and boon. It is inspired by a deeply affecting visit to Port Arthur , Tasmania (in Australia) which used to be a penal colony back in the 1800s for convicts (whose crimes were often petty like stealing a loaf of bread etc.) When physical punishment such as flogging (with a whip called the cat-o-nine tails) on a wooden triangle failed to reform rebelling convicts, a ‘Separate’ prison was built to psychologically break and ‘reform’ the convict using total sensory deprivation. Convicts were imprisoned in total isolation; 23 hours a day in pitch black, sound-proof cells. They had to adhere to a strict code of absolute silence 24 hours a day. Not a sound and any act of communication was given to them and not allowed by them. As a result of this, convicts often went insane and an asylum was eventually built beside the prison. To maintain sanity, some convicts were known to continually count the buttons on their uniform…This poem is dedicated in memory of those individuals that suffered greatly.

←- The Pumpkin Prince* | Pure Song (poem) -→

Solitary Confinement

My callused fingers fumble in the dark
Prying the ten buttons from my grimy uniform
A lost soul
To hang from the last vestiges of a crumbling mind
Blindly I lay them down and voiceless
Count

One… Two… Three…
I laughed when the cat-o-nine tails took its aim
And ate my flesh on a rough wooden platter
So they cast me from the sight of the burning sun
And upon the mercy of a silence
Reigning in mocking smile
Condemned me to eternal night
And a choking gag of darkness
Within these thick sandstone walls

Four… Five… Six…
Silence my mad companion to enforce
Not a sound in this anechoic chamber
No whispered word
Or prayer for a boon to trail the musty air
Nor tap of finger on numb stone
Feet encased in felt slippers
To maintain the quiet
And defeat a fading existence

Seven… Eight… Nine…T…
Loneliness pounds a dirge in my head
Weeps in a shadowed heart
Aching for things that can never be
The darkness closes in and silence
Claims my fallen soul
Weary I rest
Blindly I see
What once was wise
Decay
And collapse
Within me

←- The Pumpkin Prince* | Pure Song (poem) -→

Date	Name	Comment
9 Sep 2001	James K Bowers	Loading... Hello, Esther! I'm meandering through the woods on Amsel's "Nasty Piece of Work" tour, enjoying myself immensely... Even though I've read this poem several times now, it still retains the uncanny ability to tug at one's heart and mind and soul... Such an empathic burst of imagery and emotion...
29 Feb 2004	James K Bowers	Loading... After almost two years, I’ve been considering resuscitating “The Project” -- if so, would you be interested? I expect it would again operate in the same fashion as the earlier editions, and I will attempt to gather a group consisting of former contributors as well as “newbies”… If this sounds like “fun” to you, email me (or just drop by my Wyverns shelf) to let me know! Esther, I hope you'll consider this an opportunity for you to showcase your talent once more - a talent that has rasped against raw nerves, soothed the soul, elicited delight or horror at your slightest whim... a talent that has always seemed too enormous to be confined to mere words, one proof of which is the poem above...
28 Jun 2004	Electra	Loading... Hey I'm an AUSSIE to!! yeah lovely to read such deep stuff!! it wasn't gory but it made think gory throughts. i love that it shows true talent. KEEP WRITING!!
20 Nov 2005	Patricia M. D´Angelo	Loading... Very strong poem. We can sense the madness descending. This is a well written piece.
20 Nov 2005	Deborah Cullins Smith	Loading... This is still my very favorite piece from Project 1, Esther! (You got my vote in the HP polls!) Hauntingly beautiful work. You brought to life the horror of that era. Bravo, Esther, Bravo!
3 Mar 2006	Ashley R. Wynn	Loading... Yay! A poem that doesn't rhyme! I really like the atmosphere of this one. It's very... solitary.
14 May 2006	Alexandru Moisi	Loading... Brrr. there are some poems that just...brrr. This one just hit's you. Great job, great job. I have absolutely no critical comments on it except that it's dark and scary.pulls blanket over his head
22 May 2006	James K Bowers	Loading... Hi, Esther! It was a great feeling to find a comment from you on my page after such a long, long time... As many times as I have read this poem, you might think I'd tire of it... But you'd be wrong... So, I thought this would be the most appropriate place for me to leave a comment in return... Jim
24 Oct 2007	Sherri Leigh Pincince	Loading... ok I read it but never found the word wise..... that however does NOT in any way detract from the somber and dark quality you bring out... this is a great poem!
13 Jul 2008	Anon	Loading... eat through the walls! You’ve got forever to do it anyways, you’ll get through in about fifty or so years...
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'Solitary Confinement (Poem)':

• Created by:

Esther SP. Buhrman
• Copyright: ©Esther SP. Buhrman. All rights reserved!

• Keywords: Confinement, Convicts, Solitary
• Categories: Romance, Emotion, Love
• Views: 3270

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