Poverty and Other Traumas

by nouriguess   Jul 3, 2021


You realize it’s been days
on canned soup, and
canned soup can’t always cradle
a dyspeptic stomach that will
bleat out “do something!”
all night long,
even when you
beg for forgiveness.

Your body doesn’t really forgive you.

Every single part of it
rebels, then.
Every muscle becomes elusive,
querulous, defiant. Bones
fret, breath rasps, heart
beats at full pelt, and you,
in the far corner
of the bed, shrivel under covers.

I never forgave my body for that.

4


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Latest Comments

  • 2 years ago

    by Em

    Dear Noura,
    The title  "Poverty and Other Traumas" gives me a really sad feeling from deep within as I know this will not be a happy poem really just from the title because poverty is still a huge problem all over the world although more prominent in certain countries and it breaks my heart.

    You realize it’s been days
    on canned soup, and
    canned soup can’t always cradle
    a dyspeptic stomach that will
    bleat out “do something!”
    all night long,
    even when you
    beg for forgiveness.
    ^
    This opening is a hard hitting one and it makes many of us, me included, alot more thankful for what we have and I feel if there were many more people who realised that world poverty was a big problem that we could overcome it together. I love the word 'dyspeptic' here as it describes the state of hunger (I feel) alot although I admit that I hadn't come across that word previously so I had to look it up. This reminded me of the time I had a dinner lady job in a school and one of the lads kept asking for more or a big plate and my manager explained it's because he's not usually fed at home - he went to breakfast and after school club so that he could have food; it broke my heart.

    Your body doesn’t really forgive you.
    ^
    In this state of mind anyone's body will be unforgivable to them but sometimes this isn't always a person's fault as there just isn't enough food to go around. As I said it really saddens me.

    Every single part of it
    rebels, then.
    Every muscle becomes elusive,
    querulous, defiant. Bones
    fret, breath rasps, heart
    beats at full pelt, and you,
    in the far corner
    of the bed, shrivel under covers.
    ^
    The description here is amazing and the words you use make this piece extremely unique and gives off a fascinating description. The words elusive, defiant, querulous and fret all add to the sombreness of this piece.

    I never forgave my body for that.
    ^
    What a very powerful ending. This is extremely raw and I know many people can relate. I have been in the brink of this, no electric or hot water as my ex got it turned off so then I was cold and without hot water over winter but this is a little sacrifice I can do for those people who live like this seemingly forever.
    Take care and good luck for the week ahead,
    Em xx

    • 2 years ago

      by nouriguess

      Thank you for the thoughtful comment.

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