Wrinkles on our dreams
I woke with marble in my hands
What does it mean?
I am descendent of centuries
Not independent, not autonomous
I am a falling into dreams
Of generations and pupils of elders
It would be very difficult
To think of myself as separate
I inherit euro-centric bias
And I take part unwittingly in patriarchy
I live in an economic simulation
What does this mean?
It means reality is not culture
Social conditions is only a layer
Of existence, my hands disappear
In my dreams, for I know my ancestors
Committed murder, waged false wars
So a few could profit
And the many would remain slaves
Feudalism never died, it only
Masked itself in a homogenous
Globalization of pretend liberties
I wake up with dreams of my own
That I’ve likely been programmed for
My desires are the software
And I am the obedient application
I labour, I do what I am told
How can I innovate in a world
In a world where strangers
Are competitors and scarcity
Is a growing concern of failing economies
I haven’t seen myself in the mirror
Where has my soul gone to visit?
I will praise thee, O Lord
Not for the fair world
Thou hast created, making
Man rule over women
Making one kind of a man
Richer than another, not for
How docile your creation is to
One species, which plunders
For the cheap profit of a few
Decades, what nature took
Millions of years to create –
I will observe how change will fix
This Era of its doom, its politics
Of heathens, mine enemies have
Wallets, they have bought power
They possess superiority
I will sing praise to thy name, Selah.
Even in the darkness, I will find
A way to feel the light
Not because this world is fair
Or that there are many Good men left?
For all creations come to an end
And some cities in peace, still perish
In the game beneath the stars
But the Lord shall endure forever
Like nature, like love, and some remember him
Who may or not be our descendants
It does not matter to me, history
Will always be determined by
The new masters, and masters
Rarely have an objectivity of truth
That might reveal their former wickedness.
Ebola, coming from the Continent of our roots
The WHO is exhausted by your contagion
Nurses are leaving their posts, doctors are dying
What can contain exponential growth?
Not the money and debts of this bankrupt America
We print more money and expect
The world to stay the same, but it won’t
Not after you Ebola, a profit mechanism
Vaccines, for each strain and mutation?
Ebola, your incubation period is too long
Your death-conformity is too high
How can you possibly be natural?
Man-made, racially biased, targeting
The weak, the poor, the masses
Ebola, a colonial rampage in your DNA
I call your bluff, genocide, Genocide!
Obama doesn’t mind Ebola, flights stay open
New epicenters for outbreaks arrive
The pundits say it’s already too late
Fluids or air-droplets, both, who is to say?
The CDC seems strangely apathetic
The UN is oddly apologetic
Ebola, are you ready to decimate
The white man, as you have the black?
It is because I recognize the brutality with which my own multi-branched ancestors have been treated that I can identify the despicable, lawless, cruel, and sadistic behavior that has characterized Israel’s attempts to erase a people, the Palestinians, from their own land.
~ Alice Walker
In the beginning of the last autumn
i brought from a thousand black eyes
the prize of war, that is mercy
there is no lesson here, only
an alluring figure, death and migration
I watched the shelters get bombed
And I thought I’m too old a sculptor
to know how to sculpt dead
corpses of children, to see
how they lay motionless in
bright pools of blood
how can there be cease-fires
when civilians must beg for peace
while western masters give them arms
in the beginning of the end of frozen summer
from every woman I borrowed
a supple curve, not for pregnant wishes
but for tears of the world
i created you from the marble of my poem
but I could not contain your wasted lives
so long as men think they are superior
to other men, they will fight to the death
snubbing their own God with their cruelty
beware! The wrath of the earth
will not tolerate this forever, maybe for
a few more decades, but judgement
will it be allowed to echo in your quietness?
You who have taken the bodies
You who have committed the war-crimes
You whose mouth is cold with death?
From the U.S. point of view, negotiations are, in effect, a way for Israel to continue its policies of systematically taking over whatever it wants in the West Bank, maintaining the brutal siege on Gaza, separating Gaza from the West Bank and, of course, occupying the Syrian Golan heights, all with full U.S. support.
~ Noam Chomsky
I at last conjure from the uniformity
some virgin vineyard celebration
of unity in diversity, ascending in ecstasy
across words chaotic and free
I peel like an orange sublime necessity
as if you gave me visions
of jackhammering poetry
and textural lobes of light
left for the seeking palms
of goosebumped aspirations
I at last do now know how
to smuggle divinity into this corrupt
world, so fugitive and temporary
where are then, the illuminating clues?
I who, cannot seem to make amends
with the cruelty of man
this egoistic animal building skyscrapers
talking about liberating enemies
when we are all made up of the same code
this childish tendency towards civil war
is the last thumb of snatched security
Israel, why do you still fight?
I cannot make amends with the
mistakes of history that are never healed
these barbaric tribes are now schoolyard
bully nations, proud with patriotism
I thought patriotism died long ago?
our collective blood is only as wise
as our leaders, rulers, militaries
the same patriarchal pre-kingdom castles
men, codenamed greed, envious
of the riches of the elite who control them
I will live at last in my hermit apartment
paying rent to this conscience
of necessity, that this free world
claims friendship among all the enslaved?
Photo Courtesy: http://statecrime.org/online_article/israels-war-crimes-in-gaza/