How many smoking fingers
lifted you to cover the smirk?
Power, fixed upon a mask to convert
desolation to inspiration
— chemistry in costume—
and breathe life through clay.
How many wizened eyes
filled the shadowy holes?
Gateways littered with blasted
brick and bramble, blood and bloat
—mourning glories—
guarding hope and home.
How many defiant mouths
goaded souls through crumbling maw?
Kissed lips, chipped teeth,
embered tongues from words to
—ready, aim, fire—
fan flames of freedom.
How would they command a performance
to upstage the bigger work?
Act to act, scene to scene, blocking to blocking,
orchestrations to lift and level,
—a world stage—
creating irrepressible moments.
Oflag VII-A, based in Murnau, Germany, was a Polish prison camp for mainly high-ranking officers. Although their environment and experience were much more pleasant than other camps, it was still oppressive and those imprisoned feared for what was to come for themselves, their country, and those they loved. Theatre – live and puppet – were an escape and a source of energy to keep moving forward. Supposedly, they did such a fine job at it that even Nazi officers of the camp and their wives would attend the performances. The mask in the photo is on display at the Museum of the Second World War in Gdansk, Poland.
https://muzeum1939.pl/en
https://www.spiegel.de/international/germany/photos-look-inside-nazi-prisoner-of-war-camp-for-polish-officers-a-878378.html
a tilting of air 