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Saturday, 22 October 2011

Killing Gaddafi

He was not found, as we all suppose,
beneath a road in a concrete drain,
but on our square, where scooters scoot
(and shooters have been known to shoot),
where holes are now for a water main
and pipes are plastic, a snake's head wide -
Exactly right for a rat to hide,
now dead and bloodied from head to toes.

And he was not thrown in the back of a truck,
but tied to a scooter, bound and chained,
not shot in the head as our screens proclaimed,
but done to death by a digging machine
(the one they had used to dig the holes),
its bucket cracking Gaddafi's head -
well, that's what his murderer up and said.
I heard all this as I cut the grass.

They buried the body back in the hole
and filled it in with tar and dirt
(recall, this didn't occur in Sirte),
the concrete mix having set too hard.
All this was yesterday. And now they choose
the government they want to rule. The boy
who cracked Gaddafi's head, bags
he's in line to be Prime Minister.

Some say it's kicking off again...

13 comments:

Leatherdykeuk said...

Fabulous rhythm, Dave.

sunny said...

Hi Mr Dave,you always bring something new.this poem is based on reality,very good idea,we mostly forget that God is up there,Who is monitoring everyting.if we think of that, we will never take wrong turn

Eileen T O'Neill ..... said...

Dave,

You have both uncoverd and said it all.
The story of history simply repeating itself.............

Eileen

kaykuala said...

Dave,
Finally history made a complete circle. As a 27 yr Captain he staged a coup against the Libyan King. Promoted and called himself just a Colonel Gaddafi and ruled as a dictator for more than 40 years. His mistake was heading a country that is rich in oil. That was the problem!
Brilliant verse!

Rachel Cotterill said...

Powerful stuff. It has been such an odd year for news where "death = good"...

JeannetteLS said...

My heart hurts when I read the news or listen. This poem, Dave. This poem. Sorry. I am not sure how to say more than it hit the core. Truly outstanding.

Mary said...

This poem paints the scene vividly. As for me, I tried not to watch the brutal scene on television. For me, it is enough to know he is dead.

Tommaso Gervasutti said...

Dear Dave, your visionary power has "transmuted" a scene that has got all the impressive brutality of real "history". And I really agree with Eileen's comment.

Windsmoke. said...

Now Gaddafi is gone the Libyan people are free from his brutal oppression and now have to rebuild their country with all the billions of dollars that he was hiding in banks around the world. Bonza poem that says it all :-).

Isabel Doyle said...

I admire you for composing and posting a poem that deftly observes our contradictions and fallacies. Well done.
Now for tomorrow ...

maekitso said...

I don't mind if it's not true
to history. It's got a heartbeat:
so it sounds great
in my head, to my mind.

Dave King said...

Leatherdykeuk
Thank you. Much appreciated.

sunny
Yes, the reality was in the children's play. Thanks for your response.

Eileen
Thank you very much. What struck me about the children's play was the play of reality and truth, like that of sunshine and shadow beneath a tree. Neither being supreme.

kaykuala
Yes, that may well have been a tactical error!

Rachel
I take your point. Celebrating a death - any death - leaves me feeling very uneasy.

Jeanette
I don't see how any one could say more than that. It's what poetry should be about. No need to apologise. More than I could have hoped.

Mary
I agree completely. I did see the T.V. scenes, but would have been happier not to.

Tommaso
From base metal perhaps, but not into gold. Many thanks for this comment, though.

Windsmoke
Yes, an exact summary and very many thanks.

Isabel
Ah, tomorrow... I almost dare not think. Opportunities surpassed only by the dangers, perhaps.

Maekitso
Thank you so much. That's all anyone can hope for.
It's true as a retelling of the tale the children told.

Nicholas V. said...

Violence begets violence, and you have expressed the horrible events in Libya well...
I like the irony expressed int he last stanza.