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Poetry

island of ghosts

11/8/2020

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Whilst on a recent holiday to Con Son island off the southern coast of Vietnam, I was struck not just by the remote beauty of the place, but also by it's history. The white sandy beaches and clear waters belie it's cruel past. It was used as one of the most feared places of incarceration in the region by the French from the 1800's, and also by the Americans during the Vietnam War. The aptly named 'tiger cages' are still there, and for many Vietnamese, these prisons are places for sombre remembrance and full of ghosts. . .
Island Of Ghosts: The Tiger Cages of Con Son Prison
I see you. I see your ghosts.
Wisps of breath from long ago, floating up through the tops of wired pits.
Sighs of terror etched into walls.
Caged like tigers.
Trapped. No hope of escape.
Guards strolling above, along the cement walkway,
taking pleasure in your pain.
Beaten. Humiliated. Starved.
Worthless creatures - not human beings.
I struggle to understand, not the why, the why is war.
It’s the how.
How does someone detach themselves from the screams, the pleas, the sobbing?
How does someone smile while they inflict suffering so terrible?
How does a human being become the same as a cockroach,
something to be stamped on, put down, abused?
Yet you rebel in small, unseen ways.
Comforting each other. Sharing tiny morsels of food.
Scratching names into the walls of the living and the dead,
so they won’t be forgotten.
So you won’t be forgotten.
Unimaginable.
Perspective, history.
Places overgrown over time.
In this place it is not mine, it is yours.
I can only see what is now, and try to make sense of what is past.
I want you to know I see you. I see your ghosts.
No longer trapped. No longer in pain.
Free to roam the beautiful beaches.
Free to roam the lush, green forests
Free to rebel, to whisper their stories
on this island of ghosts. 
Picture
Picture

Island of Ghosts: The Tiger Cages of Con Son Prison © Kerry Gittins 2020. All Rights Reserved.

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