Wednesday, 17 April 2013

(Day 17) The day Nicolae Ceausescu died

Everybody was stood there
And waited in silence
In a nervous excitement
As they heard them both led outside
With their hands strapped
Firmly behind their backs.

Some had marched
From villages nobody had heard off
And others had been at Timisoara Square
Watching the tanks
Crunch across the pavements
Like splinters in oceans.

Some wanted to cheer afterwards
But were hushed quiet
By their superiors
And whispered to show respect
While others simply
Spat in the snow.

Some had experienced
The food rationing
And grew up with the blackouts
Accepting the suffering
For the ultimate good.

Hundreds had volunteered
And most barely
Kept a straight face
When the shots laced round the side
Colliding almost un-noticed
In the night breeze,

Buried in small change

Blood soaked in the drops
Of a rising snow storm,

A revolution whispered in the past,

A reality still tapping on the doors
Of lessons not yet learnt. 

(This piece came inspired by Scott Walker's last album 'Bish Bosh'
which featured a song called ' the day the Conducator died. 
Interested I chose to read up on Nicolae Ceausescu, who was 
put to death in by all accounts a botched trial on Christmas Day
and this piece sort of told itself)

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