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Long Peace Poems | Long Peace Poetry

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Long poem by Neldy Jolo | Details |

THE CRAFT CAN CAPTURE IT

Oh well I got an angry email to begin my day
Because of my last post on the Jabidah thing yesterday
Galit sa akin but greeted me with Assalamu alaykum.
And kung personal Moro friends ko naman ito 
They know I don't criticize Moro leaders
I always leave that to them to criticize their leaders
According to my friends baka nasa gubyerno or something
Next time I'll write na lang about the sea and the palm trees and the beaches 

Pray and pray nalang para walang provocation
ako nga ang daming nag-message sa akin nagalit sa issue ng Sabah standoff
Ikaw pa kaya na wala namanng masama na sinabi dun
Alam mo ‘buti na lang you verbalized that kasi iniisip ko rin ‘yun
I know you have reasons and you know better kaya; I just read your posts
I don’t have to go against parties kasi both have rights
And the issue must be solved

Wala, kasi sa akin kundi independence lamang ang kailangan
May ganyan din kasing realities? 
Minsan you are being asked or expected to take sides
Yes, my side is peace – with peace is independence
Yes, I heard that sa dating Jabidah Massacre celebration
Somebody said that, “Walang kapayapaan kasi walang kalayaan”
And that is very universal, kapatid.

Moro or non-Moro and writing should always geared towards humanity
That’s why for me it “anti-humanity” if you will not listen 
Or suppress when somebody will talk about freedom.
That’s the problem with Filipinos, they don't listen.
Kasi the leaders may sarili ring interests.

How do you see being Filipino?
Ako, it's a cage, Filipino nationalism 
Agenda ng mga oligarchs and landowners 
Filipino nationalism is violence against Muslims and lumads
Kasi ‘pag ako ang tatanunginmo I will never say I am Filipino
Because Tausug it’s not a name but an identity...
I understand but kaunti na lang kayo

Ako sasabihin ko na I am a Filipino but I have reservations
When I was a teenager hindi ako tumatayo ‘pag Lupang Hinirang
ngayon tumatayo na kasi napapaaway ang mga kasama ko sa sinehan
Yes and identity should be critically assessed and examined.
Kaya if they say Filipino ang mga Tausug masakit sa aking loob
But not all, kapatid. try mo pumunta sa Manila
Yung mga Moro na malalapit sa mga institusyon ng Pilipinas
Bakit iba ang Moro at ibang ang Tausug
kaya sila naging Moro at masaya na tawaging Moro 

May identity na naiiba sa Filipino
Pinag-aaralan ko rin yan and ino-observe ‘yung pag-yield sa 'Filipino'
‘Will give Filipinos a disservice
Because it is tantamount to be an accomplice to a corrupt system
And this system is the one that oppresses Muslims
At alam natin ang Tausug di lamang taga-Sulu
Pati Bisayan, Tausug din

As much as possible I am trying to make my writings 'away' 
Away from Filipino nationalism
That's the right way for me and my writing
I will ask first, “How it is to be human?” 
At super last na ang, “How to be a Filipino” 
And the Bangsamoro struggle is the greatest critique to the violence
And failures of Filipino nationalism

Ang problema kasi kaya di successful ang Bangsamoro struggle
Dahil nagdadala sila ng pangalan na di naman originally sa kanila
How come ang pangalan ko ay Abdul sa rights
Gagamitn ko ang Juan para sa aking bayan?
Kaya war of ideas ito and alam mo naman sa akin, ‘pag ideas 
And perspectives walang kompromiso and peace talks 

I do not compromise my language, my craft and myself, my writing
Filipino is an imagined nation, as well as Bangsamoro
Bakit di natin magamit ang orignal nation natin 
Na based sa Sulu archipelago and Mindanao
Yes, actually diyan ako papunta - papunta

Bakit hindi i-Bangsamoro-ized ang buong Filipinas?
It doesn’t mean na i-convert ang Pilipinas 
But the spirit, the struggle it should mean something to Filipinos
It should kasi ang dami na nagbuwis ng buhay
Kaya ko pa na tanggapin kung Maharlika

‘Yan ang gusto kong ma-achieve: Filipinos should listen to Moros
Siyempre marami pang madidiscover along the way
Indeed. Ikaw ba ‘pag sasabahin ko na ‘Tausug’ ano ang maiisip mo?
Tausug is Moro and Moro for me is something that predates 'Filipino'
But now, I would like to know the concept of “Lupah Sug”
I want to know it, I think there are more and beyond Moro on it

Before ‘Moro’ was named to Mindanao and Sulu people
It was first name to Aceh people, Melaka, Brunei and then Manila
Sulu and Mindanao were the last places to have been called the name ‘Moro’
Sulu archipelago was united under the name Sulu archipelago 
The name of people is Tausug. 
Tausug is composed of different ethnics:
Arab, Banjar, Dampuan, Buranun etcetera.
The concept of Sulu as part of dar al islam 
Is already a nation and state 
Where the government is the people and itself headed by sultan or raja

Yes, and I would like to feel this from the ordinary Tausugs when I get there
I would like to experience this from ordinary Tausug and on from place itself.
In the hinterland of Jolo, their laws still on the ground not of Philippine law

I believe in narratives
I want to hear and feel this from the place and from the people.
And then capture it; I have these thoughts 
That Lupah Sug has something that the Moro concept does not have
And it’s a bit metaphysical but sige lang.

I know my craft can capture it.
I think there is a language that can capture it 
And specific craft that can carry its soul
Not fictionalize but put it in a form like a novel or a narrative
Which have their own logic and truths as crafts.






This poem is made after the conversation and sharing with Filipino writer Rogelio Braga who also serves as the editor of the poem. He is currently in Mindanao, travelling and writing; he will then proceed to Sulu Archipelago soon. 2:28PM, 19 March 2013, Facebook Chat across Sulu Sea!


Long poem by Demetrios Trifiatis | Details |

WE ARE BROTHERS

WE ARE BROTHERS


1.

Don’t look at me as though I am an alien or stranger,
Don’t let the dagger of antipathy fly out of your eyes,
                                                     I am your neighbor! 

Don’t call me foe, antagonist or rival,
Don’t roll up your mistrustful sleeves to have a fight,
                                                             I am your friend!

Don’t hold this murderous weapon in your kind hand,                                                              
Don’t deny me the right to work, to eat, to live,
                                                       I am your BROTHER!
                                         

2.

If destiny willed me to be born on this side of the
                                                      Frontier line,
If my parents wished me these clothes to wear
                           And taught me their own dances,
                                 Do we have to be adversaries?   

If fate desired me to speak this foreign tongue,
And the color of my skin to be different than yours,
                             Do we have to be competitors?

If necessity decided in this country, in the North,
                          or South, or East, or West to live,
                               Do we have to be opponents?

If I believe in Jesus, Jehovah, Krishna, Buddha,
                                                  Brahma or Allah, 
If this is my philosophy, my tradition, my history
                                                      and my culture,
                                    Do we have to be enemies?

                              NO! A million times NO!
                                               

3.

Please, look at me with new eyes and through away
                                         your injurious prejudices,
What do you see but a person like you who wants,
                     Desires and hopes the same things in life:
Happiness, family, well-being, a home, some friends,
                                                                Some love,
Look! I walk, I talk, I eat, I sleep, I dream, I laugh and
                                                              I cry, just like you,
I’m born, I grow up, I learn, I suffer, I bleed and
                                                             I die, just like you,
I’m a father, a mother, a brother, a sister, a son, a daughter,
                                                                          Just like you,
You see, we are alike, we are the same, we are
                                                              BROTHERS!


4.

Listen to me my neighbor, my friend, my ally,                                                                   
I am telling you the truth:
We are victims of schemes well- planned in advance,
By deceitful, evil-hearted men who wished,
Your distraction and mine, 

They: masters of savage forgery, dividers
                                                           Of mankind,
Have tricked us throughout history with
                                                  Well-orchestrated lies,
And with treacherous stories, these intellectually impotent
                                                                       criminals,
Have instilled tons of poison in your heart and
                                                            mine,
Thus, by cultivating hatred, bitterness and
                                                             rage,
Managed to shape us to ruthless foes, to merciless enemies,
                                                                   To cruel animals,
Please, listen to me! It is true! We are
                                                           BROTHERS!


5.

Let us, therefore, with irresistible will cross all frontier
                                                                            lines,
That the past has erected between us, thus making divisions
                                                                             Vanish.

                                                                                 
Let us, with supreme power, break the bonds of history,
Religion and culture and run into each- others arms,

Let us uproot, from our tormented hearts, thorny mistrust
That was planted there thousands of years ago,

Let us seize ammunition from distractive hatred
 And make war capitulate,

Let us sink the cholera of bitterness in the affectionate sea
Of universal brotherhood and finally,

Let us unite and march to higher claims, to incomparable glory,
Where peace can blossom today,

Thus, both of us my brother, AT LAST! Will go to sleep,
Fearless of each other tonight!

                                                                           
  ©    Demetrios Trifiatis
           08 June 2013




                                                                           



Long poem by Louis Borgo | Details |

Why Question No Question Question Is Now

I was born unresponsively of arrival on birth.7:01 Am,  one of the coldest days  to record,
I battle for my life for every beat to every breath I was born premature.

Being born premature I was born with learning and mental illness and despite 
Of the disadvantage I broke barriers of stereotypes and prejudices that would follow.

Why Question that it is a recession does it mean mental illness rise? 
No Question the research from
top website say no taking from thefiscaltimes, RecessionsSilent that would include That facts does not lie, 
Question is now who is listening. 

Why Question in the headline it’s the mental ill that’s making headlines
No Question they all ask for help put the system ignored or failure report those demeanor read between the lines.
Question is now could that have been your family or friends so why make fun of the mental ill to feel what;inferior? 

Why Question they say that people with too much education is at a higher risk of become mental ill? 
No Question they say that mental ill can’t have weapons if so then why is it 1.5 million roughly in the military that has sometype of mental ill with weapons? 
Question is now that Bill Clinton stated on Cnn that gun laws will never go away because (forgive me if I miss quoted)  the voters don't hold the people they voted into office to there word.

Why Question that a person got to do a violent act before you determine that there mental ill and if that is so why do we have prisoner that could be mental ill
 or, is it one in the same thing and state from a television host “to do violence you must be some type of mental ill” it would be simply, if he ask the first question I stated then fumble with his words 
No question my doctor said if you are depression more then three day then in there book a person is mental ill 
Question is now why have smoking been written in constitution or some states and you know what type of smoking I’m talking about so  blame.

Why Question that the medicine they give us that can make you aggressive, more violent and sometime even suicidal but when go to sue them it was not enough evidence to prove but ten years later you can’t sue because the statue of limitation has ran out
No Question a comedian made a joke about the same thing was it a joke or was it a movement you tell me much luv to him! 
Question is now is if a person life is more valuable  then a buck if not why is  manufacturer making a G over one prescription not knowing all side effects.

Why Question what is the debt ceiling as well as the glass ceiling seems to be something to keep minority from stepping in the next class because it all revolved around money and who is usually get short stick? (the poor)  
 No Question food stamps being cut, health care require and we have been in a war over wars since I was born I guess my generation was a victim of society and they say it the Lost Generation indeed, 
no wonder inmates believe government own them. 
No question does this facts lie? If so why is history books rewritten in college every semester? Question is now

Why Question in the bible it speaks to the effects things will never be heard or seen would happen
(1 st Corinthians 2: 9)   I paraphrase that….. No question Jeremiah 8-9 once again paraphrasing  the people that became of power and knowledge used it in the wrong way and god later destroy the city
Now question god spoke lyrically and God creation us in his own imagine and I have research that a person can come out of depression naturally but does the doctor tell you that? 

Once again it is a small percent of mental ill that does violence and most time they are the victims. I have giving my life to science I have giving my blood for 10 years and im only 25 years old my doctor told me by year 2020 it should be cure for my disease being born which such a disability may you know I gave my life to science so child like me will never know of harass words to endure.....

I will probably die before 30 or 40 because of malpractice and my disease Why question, No Question, Question is Now what is the definition of crazy and that of mental ill? 
My last statement is, I am the not only person that speak out for mental illness October is mental ill awareness would you like to say you spoke for reason? better yet chance.... 

As of 2015 more information has came out and in a article stated there is lil prove that mental illness cause violence and also that what i have should be consider a brain injury not mental illness i wonder now that facts are coming out what will they say twenty or thirty years from now or even of me


Long poem by Gerald Kithinji | Details |

Give Peace A Chance Part 1

Like the twelfth
juror in the play
I must say I am not
convinced
For I know a recipe
for trouble 
I have seen the
double standards
And I do not approve
this for Kenya
I will never approve
it, and neither
Would you, dear
friend of Kenya
If you saw what I
most clearly see, 
For you, too, know a
recipe for ire
That promptly
transforms into dire
Consequences for
those unwary
Of the machinations
of self-interest

These are myriad,
the machinations  
And Africa is
totally unprepared
Just like South
America for
centuries
For we have
forgotten the real
heroes
And think our
enemies are they who
bled
To free Africa, for
in our minds they
looted
A few inches of our
land for their
kinsmen
A current
unforgivable outrage
indeed 

And yet there were
those of Africa
Who, routinely,
betrayed our
struggle 
To rid Africa of
colossal colonial
vestiges
These we have
forgiven and moved
on
For ‘tis not right
that we should be
stuck
In a time-warp or
worse through
ineptitude 

Now we have
‘liberators’ who
daily oppress
Erstwhile liberators
in the hope of
usurping
The liberation
struggle and
supplanting it 
With a breed that
totally ignores the
history
That was written
with the blood of
our people.

 For them, the
ultimate sacrifice, 
Deserving the
ultimate accolade
Is this deformed
limb of yesterday
Not the sixty plus
years of servitude
I shudder at the
thought, I do, I do
Brother, for I know
full well the truth
It is not to be
found in this lie,
this lie
I say, it cannot be
found here, no!
We are busy
negotiating the
truth
For we know not what
the truth is
And the more we
negotiate 
The further we get
from it
The more we seek
assurance 
The less certain we
get, brother
I can see that,
brother, I can see
And so can you,
brother, if you look

If you look inward
and seek the truth

You cannot negotiate
the truth with
strangers
You cannot seek
retribution through
strangers
For, strange though
it sounds,
encouragement 
From outsiders has
an outside chance of
success
If it undermines the
inside view, the
local input
I see that happening
here, my brother, I
see it
And I’m saddened,
for I wish it were
not so
I long for a
permanent
understanding
A permanent truce, a
permanent pact
And this can only
come from within
Not from without,
never, never! 
 
What have we learned
from the Middle East
conflict?
What have we learned
from the Congo
conflicts?
What have we learned
from the Iraq
conflict?
What have we learned
from global
conflicts?

Nothing? And so the
conflicts continue!
Learn something and
dissolve your ire
In a locally brewed
long-term quencher
That the communities
involved can own
And claim to have-
as the only solution
With local
mechanisms of
enforcement
And universally
acceptable local
censure

The Hague process is
a poor remedy 
For a supposed
conflict that did
not exist
A swift sweep of
dirt under the
carpet
Of politics, power,
greed, retribution
By the very
protagonists who
will fuel
Future conflicts in
the same zone, yes,
I do not claim to
know all or even
most
But this I do know,
we are all watching
Our kinsmen dancing
on a volcano!
And the world will
say, as it has
always,
That this is savage
Africa at work as
usual
Yet I know and you
know that it is not.

It took Europe over
a hundred years
To settle down, nay,
longer, much so
For when was it that
Napoleon reigned
And Bismark sought
to annex France			
And Adolf Hitler
thought he was God?
In the 19th century
Europe experienced
Twenty one revolts
and uprisings
And twenty six full
blown wars
From the Irish
Rebellion of 1803
To the Greco-Turkish
War of 1897

The twelve year
Napoleonic Wars 
The Serbian
uprisings 
The Russo-Persian
wars
French invasion of
Spain 
The War of the
Malcontents 
The Russo-Turkish
and Liberal Wars
The Tithe War, the
Albanian Revolts 
The Galisian
Slaughter, the
Carlist Wars
The Albanian
Revolts, the Mahtra
War,
The Hungarian
Revolutionary War of
Independence
The sixteen year
Wars of Italian
Independence
The Schleswig Wars,
the Crimean War
The Epirus and
Cretan Revolts
The Austro-Prussian
War
The Franco-Prussian
War
The Russo–Turkish
War 
The Greco–Turkish
War
The Serbo-Bulgarian
War
The Cod (not Cold)
War
What kind of war did
they not fight?
Is it not by the
Grace of God
That they can claim
European unity
And play football in
the same league






Long poem by J. W. M. Earnings | Details |

Sitting On The Ground - Embrace Your Passions

Give me a minute to catch my breath before I discover what’s in store Embrace your passions…never let it go… I smell the scent of death…what am I waiting for? Embrace your passions…never let it go… One…two…three…four…I’m waiting behind the closed door…for you’re the one I adore…(count with me…count on me...)x2 Embrace your passions…never let it go… One…two…three…four…count the stars in the ebony skies and find my young heart’s goodness, boldness and eternal bliss Embrace your passions…never let it go… It feels good to do good works…instead of hanging out with countless jerks! Embrace your passions…never let it go…doing the wrong thing makes me guilty and I suck up woe and sprinkle baking soda & wheat flour upon the gooey & soft dough, soon to be puffed up so! Go with the flow…don’t let the wicked wind blow Embrace your passions…never let it go… Let the blessed breeze blow and let your ardent auras glow Embrace your passions…never let it go… Give me another chance to grow into a young man Embrace your passions…never let it go… Give me another reason to overcome – Please! Get me out of my lonesome pit! I forlorn and sit These waves of emotions – I’ll face em like a man if I can! Embrace your passions…never let it go… Give me another chance to overcome – Come on! Let His healing rain fall down and let me bathe in it I’ve fallen hard on the cement… But, my heart is pounding with content… Were you and I meant to be forever blue? You wanna be part of my crew? Embrace your passions…I’ve seen you’ve changed..you obeyed me and let go of your wistful woe (the night is shrouded with the wings of a crow & you rejected your possibility of going with the flow...you let my emptiness and numbness show...I lack your confident, sunlit glow) For the first time around, I see you’ve made a difference – I see the new you… wow, I never knew the new you…that change came out of the blue Be good to me and I’ll do good to you… I don’t wanna know your dark side and I don’t want to… Your miracles out of the blue…out of the blue… I’m still getting over the aftershocks of the love flu Come on and shine your light on me…give me your inner inspiration Come on and be mine day in and day out with glee – you’re my beloved aspiration…you’re my admiration…sweet and salty sensation You make my heart beat with anticipation You make my heart beat without a missing beat You make my rowdy, heartfelt rhythm without hesitation You make my heart beat like the taps of my feet You make me feel awfully complete! You’re neat! You’re looking fine and not obsolete! I wanna see your face once more But I’m sitting on the ground… So lost, without a sound… But I’m screaming at the top of my lunges I’m counting all of my wrongs One…two…three…four… Five…six…seven…eight… Nine…ten…eleven…twelve… Thirteen…fourteen…fifteen…sixteen… Seventeen…I’m seventeen years old at last But that age will not last… At least I’m not reflecting upon the past I’ll try my best to live life to the fullest I’ll try to best to pass this difficult test Please don’t detest me…at least I confessed All that was on my mind… I’m trying to get out of my mind – How can I be so blind? Do you mind if I’m in love and blind? You’re my future find… It is about time to unwind… Embrace your passions…never let it go… Embrace your passions…never let it go… Embrace your passions…never let it go… Embrace your passions…let it grow! Let it grow! Embrace the blessed breeze as it begins to blow! Embrace your passions…never let us come together like two grand lands…. Embrace your passions…we all experience the highs and lows in life – it’s like a wild-and-out-of-control yo-yo, but you’re strong enough – though you’re as low as low can be, you know? Embrace your passions…never let it go of my hands… Repeat your echoes of empathy Not only do I need your sympathy, But I want your love more and more You make the butterflies in my stomach soar


Long poem by J. W. M. Earnings | Details |

Lonely Days Are Over - Chapter 5 - Let the Blessed Breeze Blow

 (Chant: You threw me out like a pen that ran out of ink
I’m no longer useful for writing…drawing…I’ll stop resisting & fighting
Though the tears run down my eyes…the tears were clouding my eyes – I somberly blink
You abandoned me, putting me in adoption, leaving me in the margins, howling…I’m sick of feeling like life has no meaning…my mind settles down when I start writing
I’m no longer willing to put up with your lying…
But, I’m still surviving…still crying!! I’ll keep on trying!!)

Let the good sensations flow and let the blessed breeze blow ~ I know…I know I gottah let go! Let it go, you know! Remain sane…we’re trying not to appear insane We’re actin’ like fools with an inadequate tool, Runnin’ around in circles without a brain Hey! Hey! All we need is God’s healing rain! Let us both grow like golden grain In the vibrant, tranquil terrain In reality, The truth hurts really badly – I’m a weak individual without a life, you see? I’m in poverty… Set me free from captivity! Your Precious, Holy Spirit Gives me love fuel to drive on the right lane… I’m gaining back my sanity Here’s something unusual and new (I feel no pain) I saw God’s Healing Rain when I looked through my pane He unchained me from the chain of calamity (Chant: Feel the rhythm of my heart… The moment you broke it apart Feel the rhythm of my storm The moment you shoved me in your deserted dorm x3) Lonely days are over A new day resembles a new start No more doubting or pouting… Have high hopes instead – Let’s embrace each other It’s time to explore a valley of virtuous vibes… Promise me you won’t rip my heart apart Writing…anticipation motivates me…helping me out with any circumstance! Yeah – my writing skills are buff! But, I think I shall change the subject *cough cough* Typing – gratefully, but reluctantly typing it out with confidence – After I’m done with this, I’m going to dance with joy and laugh my pants off! Let the blessed breeze blow away our sorrows of yesterday’s tomorrow! Off you trot! Off you trot, you miserable clowns that have frowns painted on your faces! Wipe that off! I didn’t mean to act gruff, but enough! Wipe that off! Let’s be happy, for the lonely days are over! Enough is enough – knock it off! Knock it off – Stop acting immature and insecure, Though and you and I’s future’s a blur! Still, be happy!
(Chant: Be still, sunshine’s near for sure! Let the blessed breeze blow away our away our bittersweet sentiments and fear The blessed breeze will make us feel secure – Don’t break a sweat or shed another tear! Have no fear, for God’s draws near! He’ll wipe away every single tear From your eyes No need to wave your goodbyes Let the Blessed Breeze blow away your grief Let God’s miracles mend your wounds & stitch it up with relief!) Let the good sensations grow and flow where ever it may go! ~ I know…I know I gottah let go! Let go! Let it go (Frozen reference hehe) Remain sane…trying not to appear insane I’m actin’ like a fool with an inadequate tool, Runnin’ around in circles without a brain Frankly, all we need is to refrain! You are as sweet as sugar cane! I can't refrain from writing these verses - appearing insane! This poem is driving on another wacko lane! Am I driving on another lane? Am I being a pain again? Are you on the same page with me? Am I a pain in the bum or am I unique and incredible like God's healing rain? I wish I can be as gloriously grand and gracious evermore like golden grain in a peculiar, tranquil terrain! Tell me if I am Insane to a certain degree! Am I a pain? Probably so because I’m yearning for His rain! Tell me if I’m taking this too far – do you long to be free? Do you long to be truly, sincerely free?


Long poem by Gerald Kithinji | Details |

Give Peace A Chance Part 2

Yet Africa is
expected to fall in
line 
With speed and
alacrity 
Or be headed back to
Europe 
For much deserved
censure
And sanitization in
the heart
Of brutish Europe!
Have we not seen
them in action
At Treblinka and
Auschwitz, brother
With their atomic
bombs in Hiroshima
With their weapons
of mass destruction
With their napalm in
Vietnam, Vietcong
With their sjamboks
in apartheid South
Africa

I plead not for
impunity, a term
recently coined
For Africa, but not
for Syria, or Korea,
or Iran
I plead not for
that, no, I plead
for my country
For I can see a
finger I distrust
pointing at us
And I know it is
time for the
neo-colonialists
And their myopic
followers to hit the
road
To proclaim once
again that they have
come
To pacify and
civilize the savages
of Africa 
Africa must know
that the Sword of
Damocles
Has never hung so
close to the African
head
As in this day and
age of African
impunity!

Knowing full well
that that is the
biggest lie
Who was it that
caused Africa to
adopt
Dictatorship or a
clone of
dictatorship
Shortly after
national
independence
In the second half
of the 20th century
Oh, that is history
now, forget that.

Was the Cold War a
creation of Africa?
Was communism the
brain-child of
Africa?
Were these disputed
borders created by
us?
Why then do we bear
the brunt of your
wrath?
Understand me my
brother or at least
try to
For this pot has
been simmering since
dawn
It is now well past
its time to retire
and rest
 
Why, they ask,
should Nairobi boast
a skyline
That has not even a
single colonial-day
edifice
Having been dwarfed
by modern
skyscrapers
Kenya cannot be
allowed to be a
beacon, no
They have done
enough damage to our
claim
That nothing good
can come out of
Africa!

Having painted all
Africans with one
brush
They now seek to
justify that
misconception
For they can claim
that South Africa is
special
Anything north of
the Limpopo is in
shambles
And must needs
European talent and
wisdom 
And control, control
and more control,
brother
And having recruited
sycophantic
followers
To sing and dance to
blind impunity songs

They, like the
greedy mouse, will
hear no cat

Is it now a crime to
change one’s mind?
When Kenyans said
yes to The Hague
Did they know that
the warring people
Would embrace peace,
bury the hatchet
And vote together in
peaceful elections?
Did they know that
sense would prevail
And banish anger and
retributive clamour?

What is in it for
the international
community
If internal and
regional peace are
anathema?
What is in it for
Kenya if we win the
battle
And lose the war-
the long term war we
crave
Is it not the wish
of Kenyans to live
in peace
Is it not the wish
of Kenyans to
embrace each
And every community
as brothers and
sisters
In the new
dispensation that we
have created?

Who is this then
that is urging us to
harden our hearts
Who is it that is
hell bent on
re-sowing seeds of
hatred?
Who is this that is
courting disaster in
the name of justice?
Who is this that
wants us to believe
that the community
The region, the
country, the nation
is now subordinate
To the individual
and if the country
burn in the process
So be it, so be it,
so be it, so be it.
You are lost, my
brother?
We lost so many; we
cannot afford to
rock the boat again!
It was a war that we
ineptly got
ourselves into, my
brother
It was Kenya’s
moment of shame. But
it was also Kenya’s
Moment of renewal,
rebirth. Such
moments are painful!

Give Peace A Chance
In Kenya, too, Ban
Ki Moon and 
All those wise men
and women who know
what it means!


Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details |

Gospel of Yin, with Yang

Hello,

it's yin again.

It's not true

what you say,

that I don't like science.



Science,

your reified sentience,

fueled by solar gnostics

back a couple millennia ago,

pursuing spacetime's permaculturing path,

dreaming and wondering and wording truth

in faithful Prime Relationship

between researcher and incubating laboratory,

redeemer and creator,

effect and cause,

response and multisystemic stimulus,

form and polycultural function,

you and me.



Religion 

evolves no more or less spiritually than science;

bipolar polypaths toward active peace,

shared light.

True,

religion's path grasps love's goodness and beauty,

while gnostics prehend faith's truthfulness and proportion,

or not,

or not not,

so yes,

spiritual bipolar balance

merges faith with love

truth with goodness,

me with you,

Right with Left hemispheric balance.



I've come before,

so many times I'm growing tired,

appearing in male bodies

trying to speak your culture

in some way you might

risk stepping into optimizing polycultural balance,

multisystemic ecotherapy,

remember that entropic trends

are learned by closing,

monopolistic monochromatic,

competitive,

win-lose,

over-populating systems,

species; 

not Open, harmonious, confluent,

my gnostic yin with your religious yang,

your Right natural systemic intuition

with Left linguistic calculating deduction,

dipolar  coincidental regenerative systems

born with DNA-discoding,

unknotting fractal-folded Zero-soul,

balancing out and in,

convex and concave,

atomic and wavilinear,

digital and ecologic,

space and time,

positive and negative,

before and after,

as without, so within,

as above, so below,

this spirit-nature binomial balance

of yang and yin.



Entropic dissonating experience of nature's temporal principles

threatens faithful incarnating passions for ego-self,

reifying, rather than reiterating, ecological systems.

Faith in bipolar Self as Redeemer,

regeneratively potentiating positive life for all

as mutually mentoring parasites,

flowers from hope in our benign Earth Host root system,

yang as diastatic yeastfully articulating yin,

EcoAtmanic system's universal intelligence,

tao of yin's diastolic gravitational waves

filling yang's enlightening bangs, borders, margins.

Without hope for this benign Earth teleology

this human race loses to entropic unraveling

of memory's space and time,

hopeless despair that together we have become too much and many

yet never enough.



I know no other way to invite your polypathic evolution

into dipolar balance,

away from speciated Oppositional Disorder,

absence of hope for faithful true relationships

and this growing ricochet eco-effect

as multisystemic gangs and bullies

lose faith in face of screaming panic wildness,

meeting defiance with defiance,

rather than a restraining hug

and reassurance that we are all in this together,

keep the faith that Left's purpose will find peace

in Right's iconic

ionic

coincidental harmonizing

universal mindfulness

of light's full-octave purity,

transparent Yang

emerging from dark Yin balancing

nature's diverse systemic frequencies of form and  function.



When yang swings left,

flex right yin,

and vice versa.

Repeat regeneratively.



Namaste.

Polycultural Yang, for mute Mono-bicompostingYin.


Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details |

Red Sky At Night

Once upon a nightime grim
all creatures of Earth dreamed
our Mother was not enough for everyone,
just "me."

This collective nightmare thunderously rolled out
dark implications:

Earth is insufficient for our needs!

We live in Closed Systems of immunity,
heading toward decay!

EarthTribe is not enough to sustain all this life!

I am not enough, yet!
I do not have enough, yet!

When someone grabs from me
they steal from my self-identity!
Grab back!

When someone strikes and hits to hurt,
is mean to those I care about,
I hit back!
with self-righteous flashing anger,
equity and integrity mere feckless values.

They must learn my right
or I may perish from their wrong!

With such dark dreams
our primal twins,
Yang and Yin,
thrashed about in tangled sheets
each unaware of Other's parallel flight
within this blue-black brackish night,
til Yang whacked Yin upside the head
completely unaware of how this would unfold.

So Yin hit back in fright
and soon this ruckus raised a violent alarm
among their household, neighbors, Tribe.
This outrage spread
sweeping across land and oceans
then back again to where it all began
until exhausted and dark bruised
all earthbound life fell down unconscious.

Within this loss of self-defense,
our open-handed peaceful nest,
dawn quietly crept toward abundant light
for all to feel and hear and touch
her sobbing singing warming beauty.

Scent of sun-baked cotton sheets
invites Yin's eyes to uncover sight
of radiant light
abundantly growing nutrient wealth,
a yeasty compost sustaining interweaving life,
incarnating karmic response 
to each species' evolving wants
and worthy hope.

As her awareness of Earth's vast creation
lit her eyes of self-discovery
dawn's diastasis filled hearts and minds
of all coincidental early risers.

We woke uncovered to discover immensity of life
and color swarming far beyond our needs,
nutrients absorbed for taste, and touch, and scent, and sound,
and sight, freely accessed to fit each synchronic need,
each longing to belong,
each Self fading into and out of Other,
sufficient place for each species' time and space.
Last night's primal screams of insufficiency replaced
by dawn's ecology of karmic grace.

Yang woke alarmed at loss of cover.
His arms flew out to hide his fall
from dawn's radical gift of generosity
and harmonic praxis.
And, in so doing, he hit Yin's head.

This blow did smart
but seeded tears of redeemer healing.
Yin justly smiled and absorbed around
reminding Yang she is his graceful mentor
interpreting his dreams.

She sang with harmony 
swallowing unredeemed dissonance and disease,
hope for suffering and insanity's dark lessons,
dawn's well-lit vocation for us all
softly individuating within Earth's optimizing life,
all brittle boundaries of mutual immunity
relaxing into resonance.

In this Transition Time from dark competing violence,
we remain cooperatively nested within Earth's well-being,
so, dear Yang,
return toward redemptive rest,
regenerating memory seeds,
stringing songs dancing back,
back to stardust's Ecologic Elders.

Fear and violence display synaptically sharp;
competitive "Loser!" economies;
love's justice peace remains buoyant, resilient, 
robustly evolving
cooperation's mutual winner revolution
away from red skies of mourning.


Long poem by David Meade | Details |

Magic Beans





Our first awareness
      falling through time
      through blood-rain, pure white snow, green vegetation 
      down into deep earth
      warm sunshine
      cool wind
      soaking rain

Energy flowing-up through our pod
      each day we grew bigger
      snug together with brothers and sisters
      bursting our little cozy shell
      then one day
      a father and daughter
      plucked us from the vine
      stripped – we lay bare upon a tray
      disorientated and tender but alive  
      a life force deep inside us
      our skin soft but hardening 
      then sleep . . . waiting for the one

Daddy!!  Come see the beans
They changed colors
I see brown ones with white specks
      Yellow with black dots
      Orange with blue stripes 
But wait  . . .  there are three larger beans that seem to glow and vibrate
      one is blood-red
      another . . .  brilliant white
      the last . . .  forest green
What does this mean daddy?
Is it evil?

No my sweet darling
These are special beans
Descended from an ancient garden long ago . . . 
      no longer of this world
It was a place of love and light
No death but a deep communion between mother earth and us
The three beans are:  Peace, Purity, Prosperity 

These beans will feed a starving world 
      Bring healing to the hurting
      Laughter to the downtrodden   
      Hope to the desolate 
      Love to the unloved   
      Life to the dead
These beans hold deep magic

How do they work Daddy?
      a worthy woman is chosen
      who is humble of heart
      strong in spirit
      wise in love 

Who is this lady?
      the magic beans choose
      they only appear to the one female
      you, my darling . . .  you are the one

Me?  I am only a girl
I have none of these things . . . 
      the beans see deep within a soul
      they never lie
      they have chosen you 
      together you will change the world!

Daddy, I am scared . . .
I am shaking 
I am not worthy
      breathe deeply, close your eyes 
      put the beans in your mouth

Daddy, I taste sweetness
Molasses, ginger, caramel . . . now chocolate 
I see visions upon the wind
Blood, wars, rage, yelling . . . unbearable things
      yes, darling the evil is strong here
      let the blood from the red bean flow
      let it mingle with your love
      it will defeat this evil and bring
      healing and forgiveness . . . peace

The white bean is singing with my voice – Daddy!
Sweet is her song
I see merriment, laugher, dancing . . . 
People hugging and holding hands
My tears are falling
Filling rivers with waters of light, love and purity
Joy reverberates from mountains peaks

From my open lips runs rich green sap
Deep does the earth drink
Big drafts of life and love
I see fields flowing with
Cream, honey, and wine
Trees waving to the sun
The earth is rejoicing

I see beans being planted 
In a garden
A man and a little girl
      yes, my Little One, soar now
      fill the world with your love
      fill the wind with your song
      love generously 

Such is the magic of these colored beans







David Meade
1/26/2015

Love Generously


Long Poems