" Le Soup" was a soup kitchen that provided soup and a roll for 2d. from the great depression onwards. My Dad used to walk from Shepherd's Bush to the East End in order to get a bite.


"Le Soup" 1939

Penniless and starving,
They made their way,
Slowly,
To Le Soup.
Breathing in the
Scent of soup,
Like an exquisite
French perfume.

There was always,
a queue,
Always the same
Smell.

Thick green pea soup,
Every time,
Chunks of black bread.
The stink,
Of camphor and cabbage,
The stench of
Misery.

They didn't want,
To be helped,
But they couldn't,
Help themselves.

And so,
The soup kitchen,
It was.

No more the vats of
Goulash and mounds
Of Wiener Schnitzels.
The plenty of
Home,
Faded into,
Grotesque,
Poverty.

A bowl of soup,
And a roll of bread,
Something,
That tasted like hope.




Poetry by Esti D-G
Read 668 times
Written on 2006-04-03 at 12:22

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Zoya Zaidi
***Book Marked***
((((HUGS AGAIN))))
2006-04-03


Zoya Zaidi
Oh, esti, esti, esti!
You surely know how to
Rend my heart out; by
just a flick of your pen,
a lot comes out: misery,
want, suffering and hunger
Rolled into one, one bowl of
pea soup and a roll of stinking
bread, speaks so much for your
suffering, and of those whom you loved!

(((((Hugs esti, you're amazing))))))

Love, and welcome back!
xxx, Zoya
2006-04-03


Christian Ward
Love the use of the senses, feels as if you're actually there!

Love the lines:

'Breathing in the
Scent of soup,
Like an exquisite
French perfume.'

Love the images this simile produces

Thanks for the read :D
2006-04-03


lastromantichero The PoetBay support member heart!
these were terrible times my grandparents lived through them in what is now the west midlands you have captured the despair her esti welcome back rgds mike
2006-04-03