Afghan Boy
by Noel King
As his understanding of ceramics climbs in his head,
Kalif makes miniatures; tiny things, by the day, getting smaller.
The ceramics teacher at Citta dei Ragazzi guides the boy;
helping him heart the hurt of his war-torn country.
It takes time for the boy to be used to the sight of his hands
enlarged as a man’s in the magnifier between eyes and worktop.
The psychologist worries when Kalif turns to making soldiers,
soldier after soldier after soldier,
in the uniform of his country’s opponents.
The ceramics man suggests he tries some heroes for a change,
casually leaves a book, Military Uniforms of the World in the workshop.
Soldiers’ faces are pained from Kalif’s pain
as he discovers other regiments, centuries, eras.
He gets applause in the finishing room
the day he kilns his first Roman Soldier;
sells his first in the craft shop.
Blitz
by Noel King
We chipped together,
the boys in his class,
to buy him a Meccano set,
to help rebuild his life
after his Mam, Dad and sister
were blown-up.
He hung his head, mumbled
a thanks and a goodbye
and headed off on a train
to be brought up by an auntie
or someone, somewhere.
Tailor-made
by Noel King
At the garrison
the tailor fitted my jodhpurs,
gave me enough ball-room,
bullet proofed essential parts.
All kitted out, I gave my mother tears,
father handed me a proud handshake.
My chest heaved excitement for my future:
learning to shoot, learning to ride,
learning to defend my country,
until injury
dimmed the glory
and I came back to work the family farm
as much as my shrapnel’d knee could allow;
marrying a local woman,
shooting nothing but wild pheasants
and at foxes threatening our flocks.
My wife moans at the memories
in my sleep, the sweats and screaming
scare her in middle-nights.
The tailor, old now, still kits out other boys.
Noel King was born and lives in Tralee, County Kerry, Ireland. His poetry collections include the Past (Salmon Poetry, 2010), The Stern Wave (Salmon Poetry, 2013), and Sons (Salmon Poetry, 2015). He was poetry editor of Revival Literary Journal (Limerick Writers’ Centre) in 2012-2013.
by Noel King
As his understanding of ceramics climbs in his head,
Kalif makes miniatures; tiny things, by the day, getting smaller.
The ceramics teacher at Citta dei Ragazzi guides the boy;
helping him heart the hurt of his war-torn country.
It takes time for the boy to be used to the sight of his hands
enlarged as a man’s in the magnifier between eyes and worktop.
The psychologist worries when Kalif turns to making soldiers,
soldier after soldier after soldier,
in the uniform of his country’s opponents.
The ceramics man suggests he tries some heroes for a change,
casually leaves a book, Military Uniforms of the World in the workshop.
Soldiers’ faces are pained from Kalif’s pain
as he discovers other regiments, centuries, eras.
He gets applause in the finishing room
the day he kilns his first Roman Soldier;
sells his first in the craft shop.
Blitz
by Noel King
We chipped together,
the boys in his class,
to buy him a Meccano set,
to help rebuild his life
after his Mam, Dad and sister
were blown-up.
He hung his head, mumbled
a thanks and a goodbye
and headed off on a train
to be brought up by an auntie
or someone, somewhere.
Tailor-made
by Noel King
At the garrison
the tailor fitted my jodhpurs,
gave me enough ball-room,
bullet proofed essential parts.
All kitted out, I gave my mother tears,
father handed me a proud handshake.
My chest heaved excitement for my future:
learning to shoot, learning to ride,
learning to defend my country,
until injury
dimmed the glory
and I came back to work the family farm
as much as my shrapnel’d knee could allow;
marrying a local woman,
shooting nothing but wild pheasants
and at foxes threatening our flocks.
My wife moans at the memories
in my sleep, the sweats and screaming
scare her in middle-nights.
The tailor, old now, still kits out other boys.
Noel King was born and lives in Tralee, County Kerry, Ireland. His poetry collections include the Past (Salmon Poetry, 2010), The Stern Wave (Salmon Poetry, 2013), and Sons (Salmon Poetry, 2015). He was poetry editor of Revival Literary Journal (Limerick Writers’ Centre) in 2012-2013.