South West of Phnom Penh there is what appears to be a Buddhist monastery, far from it.
It is a tower commemorating the dead.
It is filled with skulls, bones and instruments of torture.
They tower over you in a ominous yet forlorn sort of way.
They are grave reminders of the brutality of the past.
This is beyond anger
beyond rage
We flounder through life not questioning a thing
So I say an ode to travel
Thank you for your revelation
Out back, behind a fence, there is a beloved man
He hobbles over with his crutch, clinging to it with dear life
His right pant leg stitched to the upper thigh revealing his amputation
Not out of sickness, not out of disease
Sraleanh detonated a US land mine
A war fought against the Vietnamese Commies
Was it worth it? Was the mission successful?
At least Sraleanh wasn’t one of the 275,000 Cambodian war causalities right?
Not quite.
This is beyond anger
beyond rage
We flounder through life not questioning a thing
So I say an ode to travel
Thank you for your revelation
Taking lethargic steps through S-21
Tiles on the floor which once pooled blood
Thick bars enclosing and suppressing their victims
Barb wire that have snagged, pulled and torn flesh
Barb wire that have snagged, pulled and torn flesh
There’s a beam of wood right near the entrance
It once held rope for a noose
It once held rope for a noose
Now cascades shadows of times past
Passing through countless rooms
Filled with thousands of black and white photographs
Of faces filled with fear, not knowing what the future holds
Their eyes driving hard into your heart
The Khmer Rouge enforcing its f***** up views
Their brains injected with the Devils yells !
Psychotic behaviour enforced by extravagant lies
Their brains injected with the Devils yells !
Psychotic behaviour enforced by extravagant lies
This is beyond anger
beyond rage
We flounder through life not questioning a thing
So I say an ode to travel
Thank you for your revelation
This time is monsoon season
Thick heavy clouds fill the sky
Cascading dollops of tears
That reflect the faces of Cambodians
However there’s hope as I pear into this generation of children
They are surmounting as leaders of their nation
Unaffected.
Clean slate.
Rising strong.
Clean slate.
Rising strong.
So I say an Ode to travel
Thank you for your revelation
Inspiration from; Postcards from Cambodia by Bruce Cockburn
