LA eLearning Poetry Response: Rainbow Death

Children In The Darkness

There are children in the darkness
Who have not seen the light
There are children in the darkness
Who someone will teach to fight

Chalk and blackboards will not be
To this door there is no key
From this life they can not flee
And these children are not free

Could we simply light a candle
Could we give them half a chance
Could we teach them how to read
Could we teach them how to dance

Or will a war consume them
Their body and their soul
Will their life and blood be poured
Down some endless thirsty hole

Back into the darkness
From which there is no flight
Back into the darkness
Into which there shines no light

Henry M Bechtold

Task 1

Background Information and Conflict

The poem was written in year 2009, during Christmas by Henry M Bechtold when in his hotel room during his stay at Saigon. The poet was inspired by the photo of a young boy carrying an automatic rifle going to war in the news.

The poet was actually planning to write a poem about girls that are being ill-treated by men when they work in the park, but he wrote another poem, Children in the darkness. In the poem, the poet talks about Children that are involved in war and that they are being robbed of their childhood and forced to be engaged with war.

In the past twenty years, there has been estimated that there are over millions of children that has been used in the war or dragged into with their parents. Children are usually used as nurses, spies. They are in charge if guarding resources, general camps, drum-boys, and worst of all, infantry soldiers who are put at the front line to test out for enemy mines.

2 million children died, 5 million disabled, 12 million homeless, 1 million orphans and 10 million shell-shocked. Children are treated as lower classes of soldiers or recruits in the war as in the context to the poem, Children in the darkness. They are given high risks tasks as they are of low value.

Poet’s Background

I was in Vietnam in 1967 - 68 and again in 1969. I go back often because my soul lives in Vietnam and I go back to visit it from time to time. I was sitting in my hotel room in Saigon just before Christmas 2009 and I was trying to write a poem about the girls who work in the park and how badly men treat them. I was angry but unable to write anything that did not sound trite or weak. I looked at the TV and the news was on. I did not know what the news reader was saying but in the background was a photo of a small boy with a helmet and an automatic rifle. This poem flowed out. The words just came to me and I typed as fast as I could to get it all down.

http://www.warpoetry.co.uk/2010warpoetry.html#Children_

http://www.scribd.com/doc/31962195/Children-in-the-Darkness

Task 2	Analysis
Point of View	The poet assumes a third-person point-of-view, taking much pity on the children whose childhoods are robbed away. The tone, although very much dramatised, are from pure observations and are true. The poet offers a cultural and social point of view, for the children should not be doing the things they are doing at their age. They ought to be enjoying their childhoods, but they have none to turn to. The poet was a first-hand witness of children carrying rifles to war, and hence adds creditability to his account. The point of view is pitiful, and yet depressing.
Situation and Setting	The poem’s timeframe occurs in the present in Saigon, where children are kept in the darkness away from what should be a joyful childhood. Their lives filled with misery and hopelessness, they are fated to take on the roles of soldiers going for war. The conflict in the poem is cultural yet emotional, making the situation very delicate and comprehensive. The theme of the poem is exactly what the title is – Children in Darkness. There seems to be no resolution to the situation, for it is the culture of the place and a tradition to the region. Life is all violent and no smiles for the children there.
Language and Diction	The poem follows a closed form, with regular punctuation and a regular rhyme scheme of rhyming words at the end of every alternate line. The pattern of the poem also adds a sense of melancholy and a monotonous feeling towards its contents. Apart from the series of rhetorical questions in the third stanza, which definitely cannot be fulfilled, the symbol of hopelessness is depicted as “some endless thirsty hole”, as though always ready to suck the life of the children forever. There are other symbols present in the poem, such as “light” in the last stanza, which represents hope and a new life. The children are constantly cooped in “darkness”, and this idea is consistently reinforced to the reader, as evident from the several repetitions of this term in the poem. The style of this poem, although traditional, shows the reality of the today’s world.
Personal Response	Once again, in this poem, we know the truth of war – it really isn’t about fighting for glory. There is never a winner in a war, for everyone loses out. The children here not only lose out on their childhood, but also lose out on their adult life. They are fated to fight for their country, and I’m certain they find no joy in it, but still have to do it. They do not have a choice. The poet aims to evoke a sense of sympathy for these children, by showing his thoughts and depicting his observations. Nonetheless, we all know that it is impossible for this idealistic outlook of life to materialise. The children are isolated, and the poet sees them as inner-souls capable of seeking for new life, but desperate for none.

LA eLearning Poetry Response: Rainbow Death

Rainbow Death

America did not foresee
Green, pink, purple and other colors death potpourri!
Expecting others to pay a high price.
Now thinking twice?
Toll on the innocent and unborn.

Omnipotent and disregarding who will mourn.
Reflective about all the illness, birth defects and prematurely dead.
All the deceit continues to spread.
Nefariously America led astray -
Generations untold WILL pay -
Execrable effects of agent orange spray!

Hubert Wilson

Task 1

Background Information and Conflict

This small poem speaks of a modern day ingredient of warfare that has caused appalling death and suffering – not only to its intended victims, the Vietnamese people, but also the service personnel that used or even just came into contact with “Agent Orange”.

Wikipedia reports, “Agent Orange is the code name for a herbicide and defoliant—contaminated with TCDD—used by the U.S. military in its Herbicidal Warfare program during the Vietnam War.

According to Vietnamese Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 4.8 million Vietnamese people were exposed to Agent Orange, resulting in 400,000 deaths and disabilities, and 500,000 children born with birth defects.

From 1962 to 1971, Agent Orange was by far the most widely used of the so-called "Rainbow Herbicides" employed in the herbicidal warfare program. During the production of Agent Orange (as well as Agents Purple, Pink, and Green) dioxins were produced as a contaminant, which have caused numerous health problems for the millions of people who have been exposed. Agents Blue and White were part of the same program but did not contain dioxins.”

This poem may remind us that wars aren’t over when the wars are over. Fighting in the human spirit still continues for decades – they are the aftermath of war. The people suffer way beyond casualties suffered during the war. Our forefathers cause the war, and their future generations suffer the consequences. War is brutal.

Poet’s Background

I am a Vietnam War veteran (as are my four brothers) who served in the USAF Security Service. I, along with a dozen or so intelligence school grads, prepped for about 14 months at Kelly AFB in San Antonio, Texas, before anticipating being sent to Vietnam or elsewhere in southeat Asia in 1970. About half ended up in Da Nang (an Agent Orange hotspot) in the 6924th Security Squadron. The rest of us were assigned to Shemya Island, Alaska, with the 6984th Security Squadron, and what eventually was a MORE contaminated environment than Da Nang! My health problems started approximately 15 years ago with unexplained headaches and limb pains. Four years ago my central nervous system radically deteriorated with Parkinsonian type tremors, severe headaches, progressive limb pains, etc. No physician has ever diagnosed the specific illness. NO VA physician has ever rendered ANY medical assistance! My number one educated guess is the heavily contaminated drinking water at Shemya during my year there as an intelligence analyst. Organo-phosphate toxins may not run their toxic course until 20 to 30 years after initial exposure. Since my brain still functions moderately well (and I have mobility issues), I have turned to writing just like my late Father and the late singer (and writer) Johnny Cash.

http://www.warpoetry.co.uk/2010warpoetry.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agent_Orange

Task 2	Analysis
Point of View	The poem adopts a first-hand account of war’s evil, for the poet was the Ssgt USAF, from 1968 to 1972, and approaches the horrendous situation with a serious and calm tone, reflecting truly the aftermath of a war. He views it from the civilian’s point of view, as he describes the suffering they will experience even though the war has ended. His account is definitely reliable as he knows the way an army operates, for he was in one. He wants readers to know the harsh truth of war.
Situation and Setting	The poem talks from the present into the past, about the Vietnam War, and thus has the historical approach with a tinge of emotion and a lot of pain. The conflict in the poem is harsh, real, and very hard to accept for those who are affected by war, but still have to accept it anyway. From the last three lines of the poem, one can tell that there is no practical resolution to the conflict and problem. The use of Agent Orange causes many disabilities and birth defects, and even people who are not defected are haunted with memories whenever they see those who are. The people affected by the war are always in misery, for they are forced to see and recollect the memories of war.
Language and Diction	There are hardly any connotations in the poem, and it sounds like a monologue. There are a couple of exclamations, which serve as a minor climax to the poem. The poem is constructed as a recount. America is personified for the country “did not foresee” and expected “others to pay a high price”. Colours such as green, pink, purple and finally orange paint the colours of the title “Rainbow Death”. Potpourri is a mixture of dried plant material, but “death potpourri” refers to the endless deaths and suffering war has inflicted. Apart from “thinking twice”, “Execrable effects” is an instance of alliteration, and is followed by the ending phrase “agent orange spray”, and gives the poem a slight impact at the end. The poem uses a solemn and depressing tone, serious and designed to evoke remorse out of those cruel enough to use poisonous sprays.
Personal Response	A four-year war lasts forty years long, and a lifetime long for those who suffer permanent damage from it. War is cruel. People who are blinded by this cruelty in turn inflict pain on the innocent, and blind the innocent for life. The title of the poem is oxymoronic, for rainbows are normally associated with joy, happy childhoods, and sunshine after a rainstorm, but a rainbow death definitely means something completely different. The rainbow causes the deaths of the young and illness to the people. The rainbow is not something that people look forward to, but dread seeing it, for the rainbow is Agent Orange, amidst other poison gases. War is harsh and unforgiving. Above all, war is an unfair affair. The innocent are the ones that get permanently punished, while the guilty ones get away with death or a jail sentence. Have you gone for an operation before? Or if you have taken some medication, you might get the side-effect of drowsiness. Here, the poet wants to say that a single war has countless, dreadful side-effects. Dreadful.

Starbucks@ION Orchard

And so I got the best lemon chicken rice I've ever tasted. It costed $5.80 at Food Opera.

Jennifer and Max turned up first, then Trevor, then Evangel and Yasmine.

Trevor thinks that it was a real waste that Xin Yu couldn't turn up.

Trevor showed Jennifer many photographs of his DHS friends and asked her if she thought they were hot.

Max did a lot of things to Trevor, starting from the first call telling Trevor that we're at Starbucks, but in fact he was at Food Opera enjoying lunch.

Jennifer and Yasmine, both from RGS, just came back from their open house, and were wearing their school tees.

Evangel is celebrating her birthday today, but still made it down to spend the afternoon with us.

Jennifer was carrying her instrument along with her.

All of us talked a lot.

Max stole Starbucks straws, and also owes Trevor $7.30.

We used Trevor's iPod till it's out of battery.

We also almost pissed Trevor off.

Trevor likes Mitch Albom's books.

We talked about school life, primary school life, relationships, CCAs, family, games and laughed quite a lot.

Trevor's Hawaiian name is Kalawola.

Yasmine was the one who hid Trevor's spectacles initially.

Evangel was comparable with Trevor in terms of physical fitness (NAPFA).

Max sat outside Starbucks throughout our stay at the cafe.

Jennifer is now shorter than Trevor, who was shorter than Jennifer two years ago.

And so I got the best cup of tall Vanilla Latte I've ever tasted. It costed $5.80 at Starbucks.

LHC

We all know how much we disliked our geography teacher last year, in 1A1'09. We know how Nigel and Yi Fan disagreed with the ways he handled with canoeing matters. The Aphelion Councillors also know his ways of settling council issues, as a council mentor last year.

There were names like 'Low, but High Class'.

And there was a never-ending mimicking of his actions and speech.

And there were drawings of him by a few classmates. Even comics.

Today after dinner, my mother was talking to me.

"Did you know that he is resigning?"

"Oh? Ok. No big deal what.."

Then the last line really hit me.

"Did you know that he wasn't trained, but still wanted to teach?"

Passion.

Real passion indeed.

And somehow, I felt bad for him.

He's Mr Lim Hong Chin.

A Letter from New Dehli

"One teacher came and passed me this. Nah."

My brother handed me a large, white envelope with a wrapped present.

The giftwrapping paper was of an orange thin wax paper, and a cellophane sheet. The envelope read "Khoo Yihan" on its cover. There was a certificate inside. How curious.

It turned out to be a prize I received from an international art competition I took part, organised by India's 'Shankar's International Children's Competition'.

And it was a queer thing that I only received the prize now.

I participated in 2008.

Project AniCon

Our Projects' Day'10 Creative Arts Project.

Too bored, so I came up with a logo using fireworks.

Imagine, If you will

Have you ever felt the skip in your heartbeat when you receive a marked test paper?

Or if you have to check for results online? And if you failed? Or succeeded?

Have you ever felt the body aches when you have a fever? Or the day after some vigorous new exercise? Or when someone hits you and means business? Or maybe not?

Have you admired the clouds for more than 5 minutes? Have you fallen asleep on your study table? Have you ever wished that you have fallen sick so that you could miss school? When was the first time you took chili?

When did you first talk? What are your first words? And you really look like your dad.

Have you squished an ant before? Have you ever asked why the moon keeps following the car? When was the first time you realised that a mac was different from windows?

When was the last time you spent real family time with your family?

When was the last time you hugged a family member? Your grandparents, perhaps? Or do you remember the last time you kissed a family member? When was the last time you praised a junior? Have you ever taken a look at those childhood photographs? When was the last time you said "I am sorry" and "I love you"?

Have you ever cried in front of a coffin before?

Maybe not, but a cry away from the distant heart,

As Jesus died from the cross and nail,

Have you got an answer to all these questions?

Then again, maybe not.

But imagine, if you ever will.

Isn't it beautiful.

Everyone is yelling out loud in this computer lab as I make this post. Our Infocomm Studies Test on Javascript is an online form. Our results could be seen once we submit our test.

This test is rather unique. We were allowed to use the internet and ask from friends for answers - this is a form of enquiry in this subject, so we were allowed to run wild during the test.

"HI THIS IS MATTHEUS!" :D


-.- That was typed by Mattheus. Yep. That Mattheus from the post below. Again. You see the excitement.

Anyways, the results came out when most of us are done. Most of us got 13/20...didn't do quite good.

Just then, I heard:
"Yeah! Hi-Fi! YEAH!"
"Thank you Yue Jun, thank you."

I see Yue Jun slapping a hi-fi with a couple of other friends.

Yue Jun is the respected power of Infocomm Studies, Mathematics, and the Sciences. He got 17/20, and just agreed to stay back and help those who want a retest, which would be capped at 70%.

This test? If you got friends you can do well.
Ethan got 7/20, since no one wanted to help him.

How unique. Have we ever come across such a test?
Isn't it beautiful?

This is for my peoples who just lost somebody

"Good morning. Welcome to FCBC, God bless you!"

"They are theee... hospitality people on duty."

Mattheus brought me into Hall 9 and Max Pavilion of the EXPO.

It was the first time I'm attending a church seriously, which meant that I wasn't just there for once. I wanted to see if this church was really the church I've been looking for.

It just happened to be holy communion of the month - the breaking of bread, and drinking of acting wine. There was worship and singing. Then there was a preaching session. The church-goers took out their pens and took down notes.

I followed suit.

But slowly, I began to feel bored, and doodled on the note paper. I tried drawing a place where things were always peaceful and happy. I could see that the teens of the church were also daydreaming with their mobiles and earpieces. I continued drawing, and soon I've pretty much covered all the writing space.

The preaching really did last for very long, and the pastor dragged it longer.

"You feel bored?"

"Kinda."

"Yeah. It's normal." Mattheus was spinning his pen.

We had lunch with the cluster group, consisting of people of the same age - a group of about 10 people present. The church has given a friendly introduction to me, and I liked the warmth of the people, their closeness to God, and really frankly, the smiles of the girls.

"So you coming every week?"one of the cluster friends asked.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Oo yay! Matt, you suceeded."

Mattheus did succeed, but so did the church. :)

Lunch was great, and we later headed our ways back home. I happened to be following a couple of my friends, Mattheus, my classmate, as well as Danielle, a long-lost primary school friend who transferred to another school in P4, on the MRT.

"Bye! See you again." said Mattheus.

I alighted from the bus. Just then, my mobile phone alerted me of an SMS.

It was from my uncle.

He told me that my granduncle has just passed away the day before of a heart attack.

I was shocked.

And just now, I tried drawing a place where things were always peaceful and happy. This is for my peoples who just lost somebody. I failed really badly.