Source:
Adults
Author:
Stuart Johnson
Title:
Hohenschonhausen
Hidden amongst East Berlin sprawl The epitomy of static stealth A prison walled-off from a city That was walled-off from the world Through breathless, vice-grip summers Through biting, howling winters For year upon uniformed year No knowledge of her existence It was only the birds that knew Only the birds that flew Above her heavy unmarked roofs And swooped into her shingle yard The people clasped in ignorance Plodding streets with no route in In a city of streets with no way out And where curiosity was sin Her Gun-grey octagonal watch-towers And high barbed concrete walls Could hardly raise suspicion In a time and place where basic trust Had become a fabled act of fiction
Boom gates, road-blocks, sentry guards Preserved her from detection Whilst incarcerated deep within Screamed the plotters of defection Sat on hard, cold, milking stools With spot-lamps trained like prowling dogs On their brave defiant expressionless faces Eyes burnt red from sleep deprivation And from stern, pragmatic interrogation Repeated questions, blackmails, threats " Your chance to see the light of day " " Strike a deal with us, the only way " This was where the files were opened Where steel doors slammed and locked Where buckled souls would curl and weep Their hopes of freedoms clocked and blocked Broken wills in Stasi torture chambers Black and dank, the smell of fear Ice cold waters to the neck Barefoot agonies on sharp-ridged floors And walk-cages, circuit after circuit One man cracks and pounds the walls Sliding to the blood and vomit-stained floors " Never....get....out " " Never....get....out! " Still standing post-Wall, post-regime A museum now, a testimony But somewhere in the Mitte district Ex Stasi Officer sits haunted by his phone Plays back the message again and again Computerised voice chills him to the bone With poetic reminder of the life he led back then
' We the besieged are reopening doors To blackened holes with sharpened claws These lives are scarred, and you shall learn As we lie in wait for your return Where the air is thick with vengeful spores Unanswered questions and unsettled scores We the faceless are reopening doors To blackened holes with shapened claws. '
Published on writebuzz®:
Adults
> Poetry
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