at this table
this quiet place
where they write
this flat surface
where poetry
spills
for the hungry ones
those
who wish to leave
their wars
behind
where recidivism
is high
where
eyes are glazed
stares penetrating
where
nothing is
given away
not even longing
empty bodies
hollowed
anger
in a
fog
they write
Copyright Liz Rice Sosne 09/30/2013
Dedicated to those veterans who saw combat and who were in my writing classes.
Placed at Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads for Open Link Monday.
noh where 
I can see that look in their eyes. It is in my son-in-law’s, who experienced captivity in Haiti. Great write, Liz, and wonderful that you had the privilege of doing writing workshops with veterans.
Such a moving poem. I am so glad you are there to help them write through the burdens they carry.
I’ve long admired your work with veterans, Liz. This poem contains genuine empathy, and knowledge of what it takes, sometimes, to pull stuff from deep inside self and write it on a page.
It is good to have such a release…too many attempt to hold all inside.
its got to be hard you know..processing all that happened for those veterans…i imagine writing is one way they can compress a bit and get it out…so cool that you do this….smiles.
I can’t imagine and I’m glad they have you there to help and support them.
You capture the reality of not only war fighters, but also of those locked away where they rather would not stay and people trapped in circumstance they cannot escape.
My son came home so angry… and not understanding the anger – he is better finally. Thank you for your work with veterans
Debi the VA system may have programs – even creative writing classes to assist veterans. I truly understand your son’s anger. Thank him please for his service.
This is very moving, Liz. I am sure many appreciated your work. Poetry CAN make a difference, I think.
Liz, I was very much moved by this. As one with long-standing PTSD (not from combat), I can see vets in art therapy around a table, trying to excise demons by writing them down, giving them voice, and setting them free. VERY strong write. Amy
Ooohhh…loved your title and all the words after it. Writing is how I often process lingering ptsd from childhood. You capture this so well. Thank you for sharing!
I generally cannot stand poems with short-short lines, but I think, given the subject matter and subjects, it works very well. It’s short, sharp lines for men who lived through short, sharp episodes.
This is a really interesting comment. Fist thank you. Then I have to tell you that I write a poem and often go back in and chop off all of the words that I deem unnecessary. Why do you dislike short lined poems?
Generally, I find that they are lined that way for no particular reason; it’s not to create pacing or create a sense of distractedness (which you have done here very nicely, indeed), but just to look a certain way rather than being done for a certain purpose.
Ah, sensible, thanks indeed. When I do it and I do so fairly often (I think -old and forgetful) I do it for a real reason.
Such pain. i can visualize it and feel it in your words, Liz.