My response to two poems

http://www.paperbackswap.com/Innocent-Victims-Brian-J-Karem/book/0786012730/The two poems I chose were, The Victims by Sharon Olds and The Colonel by Carolyn Forche'.  These 2 poems impacted me greatly and brought back memories long since forgotten.  I remember when I was about 11 years old I was curious, as many children are, about what could be in the high cupboards above my parents closet in their bedroom.  So I climbed up there with the use of a chair.  In the highest one I opened it and in the far back corner was a little bag made of some kind of material and it had stuff in it.  I strained to reach it and got a hold of it.  I brought it down to see what was in it.  I opened it and poured the stuff out on my parents bed.  There were all kinds of buttons like off of military uniforms, bars with stripes on them, and insignia like pins.  At my age of 11 I really did not know what all this was, but it was cool to inspect it.  After a while my Mom came in the room and got angry with me, she asked me where I got the bag from.  I told her in the high cupboard over her and Dads closet.  She told me to put them all back in the bag an never speak of it.  I asked why?  She told me those were souvenirs my Father had collected off of dead people from WWII.  Oh, I said and quickly put them all back in the bag.  It gave me a chill to think I was touching something from dead people.  I never spoke of this to my Dad and soon forgot all about it.  Until I read this poem The Colonel when in "line 22 it read, "He spilled many human ears on the table."  This was a horrible reminder of what I opened many years ago.   It reminded me of the victims and people that were dead that this stuff belonged to.  I remember how gruesome it must have been and how scared it made me feel.

In the other poem, The Victims by Sharon Olds was another reminder to me of my childhood.  My father was overbearing and demanding to my mother and us kids.  He worked 12 hours a day 6 days a week and Mom stayed home with us kids.  When Dad was tired or drunk he took his anger out on his family or an inanimate object.  Thus we were all victims under his rule.  He had large meat cutter bear paw hands and when he put his forceful fist to a door or whatever it usually broke.  I remember one time locking myself in the bathroom and he pounded on the door for me to unlock it, but I didn't.  Soon, I saw his fist come right through the door.  I opened the door with sad scared eyes and I guess the door took all of his aggression.  He just yelled at me in his deep voice to go to my room for my punishment.  I was ever so glad the door took the hit for me and I just got sent to my room.  Now Mom was mad because he broke the bathroom door.  So now he simmered down and said he would fix it tomorrow.  There were many explosive episodes like this in my home, but it all ended when my parents divorced.  My father cheated on my Mother after 30 years of marriage and the marriage was over.  In the poem The Victims "lines 1-2 it says," she took it and took it in silence, all those years" this was a reminder of what my family went through.  When they divorced us kids were glad because now the arguing and fighting ceased.  In line 3-4 in The Victims poem it says," and he kids loved it." this was how I felt relieved and happy.   By Dorothy Kee