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Kettled

The police in the Ian Tomlinson case said "sorry" today, which took them a while...

 

                   Kettled

 

It’s in the reductive image that a dead man dies

Again and again; and in the repetition lies

His ghost, a sad, silent accuser demoted

To an extra in his own story. His name’s a word

For headline writers to play with, his

Violent end a fact for lawyers to wrangle.

His apparition moves through it all, its exits thwarted,

Like he moved through the streets that day -

You see him, lost and restless, in the blue-grey

Flicker of CCTV, re-broken into bulletin-shards

His final minutes projected onto partial truth,

His fading form remade into something more, but

Somehow less, than real. When he looks up

To the camera, cordoned off from another way out,

He is shrunk to a feeling that we feel. His city

Is not his city now, and the state, turned

Feral, is indifferent until his needs make him

An irritant to be clubbed down and lied

About and watched, over and over,

In courtrooms newsrooms chatrooms living rooms,

A man who can’t, who won’t, get home.

◄ Just one more

Comments

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Chris Co

Wed 7th Aug 2013 15:35

Hi Miles,

The lines below are the heart of the poem for me. They contain a truism - very well thought!

His ghost, a sad, silent accuser demoted
To an extra in his own story. His name’s a word
For headline writers to play with, his
Violent end a fact for lawyers to wrangle.

..........

Flicker of CCTV, re-broken into bulletin-shards
His final minutes projected onto partial truth,

Excellent image, though subjectively I would have prefered;

" projected a partial truth"

......

An irritant to be clubbed down and lied
About and watched, over and over,
In courtrooms newsrooms chatrooms living rooms,
A man who can’t, who won’t, get home.

The final line captures the essance of all that goes before and emhpasies the cognitive dissonance that we all feel when re-watching (rightly or wrongly) this trauma.

Of course there can be no other ending, and over, and over is how it has played out in all replay. But the tense of "can't", even won't suggests the present tense, suggests that it is in the now as we watch him try to get home. Of course the reality is he "didn't" as in past tense. Had you used the past tense you would not have achieved this terrible groundhog day like effect - so the word selection was very much correct. It also helps to achieve this sense that this man became an extra in his own story - it reinforces the sadness of his fate.

A poem that touches the human aspect, rather than replaying the replays it in one sense rightly critisizes.

One thing I would add given the last point. I personally would change the title and honour the man with his name. The poem is not generic - like the man, despite the media.

Very emotive and very well written.

P.S

Please excuse any typis - virtual keyboard has its issues.

Best of

Chris

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Laura Taylor

Wed 7th Aug 2013 09:31

Great poem - thought of writing something myself but couldn't get beyond my anger

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M.C. Newberry

Mon 5th Aug 2013 21:51

A touching piece on a totally avoidable tragedy. Feel for the victim, and also for the good coppers so badly betrayed by someone who should never have been allowed to wear that uniform in the first place. It takes a special kind of forebearance and grace under pressure in the attendant circumstances and the offender showed all too clearly he just didn't have what it takes.

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