Peace Poetry

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Comment by Jacky on October 6, 2008 at 12:50pm

After reading the speech to the European Parliament of Israeli peace activist and professor at Hebrew University, Nurit Peled Elhanan, in 2005, I put my thoughts into this poem that I name:

From One Mother to Another:


She speaks not of muted tongue
Nurit Peled Elhanan:
But in the tongue of many languages
And I hear her loud and clear;
do you?
Or is it Babel all over again?
This time, she speaks to me
The mother, the widow, the sufferer;
In mourning for our lost humanity
And I understand,
So why doesn’t he or she over there?
The megalomaniac who likes to tear my world apart
The megalomaniac who loves racism, fascism and death
deemed appropriate in a peculiar notion of what is right:
A war on terror?
It can only be a war on peace; on motherhood;
On you and me and a child.
And as I quote Nurit Peled Elhanan, when she writes:
“Why does that streak of blood, rip the petal of your cheek?”
I strain
to find
the reason,
… why …?

http://www.socialism.com/whatsnew/iwdaddress.html

Comment by Flick on October 4, 2008 at 1:13pm

Inner Reflection

When I look inside my heart
I see dark corners
illumined by sweet light.
When I look outside
My Little life
I see too,
dark corners of the world
spreading like a fungal virus,
intending to destroy and devour
the lightened parts.
How long can I leave my own
shadow self to fester and grow?
How long can I deny
those darker bits in me?
For what is inside me
will surely be
reflected outside, threefold.

Oct 4th 2008

Comment by David Gould on October 3, 2008 at 1:10pm

Jacky...what a wonderful poem!

Lara...very true

Yeshi...as the members of iPeace
we fight humbly for the peace
very profound...yes we must remember always just who we are and walk humbly on this earth.

With my thanks for your wonderful words...see you when i get back from my trip
Love and peace
David

Comment by yeshi samdrup on October 2, 2008 at 2:46pm

This poem is all i intend as a member of iPeace. Apology for my puerile words.

i pray to god in vain,
if i pray to lure my own pain.
for sordid breach in humanity
is the gravest adversity.

to recline your head on pillow,
in the thoughts of peaceful tomorrow
and to die in no fear,
is all what peace share.

self esteem in painful organization.
satined with horror of devastation.
for humans are single
and in harmony we should mingle

sun of peace has not yet set.
in every foul hour fade,
like a single second we stand to seize
the right of human beings' peace

we are minority in the battle
but have a majority right to settle
for a good cause. as the members of iPeace
we fight humbly for the peace

Comment by Lara Sawalha on October 2, 2008 at 11:36am

this is a poem i wrote about vanity and having no peace from within...

for thee who spends more time in vanity
spends the time not free
the world so closed around thee
self wanting can be the disease

oh mirror, mirror on the wall
who's the most self possessed
person of them all?

ME!

for she who thinks of only

ME

will succumb to the misery
the glutton and the greed
the visible shield of envy...
the clothes the jewelery
the million dollar bond agree

all fair and lovely

but as far as the gift of life
one second too slow
all focused on the gray anatomy
the pinks, purples, the gold all melt
the black cloud of atonomy

once so sweet
but as it prevails
the yellow cuckoo bird
unveils the mask of the terrified little girl
whose voice is no longer clear... but its like...

the quivering anger of molten lava
that has burnt the fairy tunnel
to the Disney land we all want to be near!

Comment by Jacky on October 2, 2008 at 8:52am

I didn't know my daughter Lara could write poetry ... and she surprised me a few months ago with this poem that she would like me to share with you.

FREEDOM SPEAKS GENOCIDE BY L:

You preach the words Allah
you praise the mosque, the church, the Buddhist temple
pray and ask for forgiveness
the sins that mount
the tongue that spits the verses
the once blue sky turned grey
cross, crescent aren't they made of the same?
blood, sweat, bones
the 3 words of wisdom
the 3 words of controversy
worn away by man..
"don't use god's name in vain"
but yet the mist beyond the hills still burns red
the devil's colour
the colour that yells the flames higher
what's it all for oh Allah?
the lucky number 7
or the firm belief that you might be right?
there is no right, wrong, big, small
words are the mirage
the sensual dancer in the desert
the luring snake towards the apple
greed, glutton, envy
all bad things in three;
what did the mother tell thee
greed, glutton, envy
the bane of your misery!

Comment by Jacky on September 29, 2008 at 7:43pm

David

Thank you so very much!
Beautiful poem about Words ... you read my mind.

Comment by Raven Cohan on September 29, 2008 at 7:27pm

The Door to Hate...

What a waste of your own energy to HATE.
It goes straight into your liver, it goes straight.
Yet it twists around and squeezes, it can't wait...
It chokes you. It revokes in you debate.

Then you can't hear the arguments inside.
Your mind's made up and simply won't divide.
Bah to other's thoughts! You're unified.
The whole worlds wrong and right is on your side.

Why do you counter against love, oh why?
Compassion craves to heal you if you try.
Allowing self-made enemies to die.
You'll open up a fresh, forgiving eye.

You'll feel all loose, unbound; no longer seized
No more dissatisfaction. You'll be pleased.
Just watch life's struggles drop off and be eased.
Old hate, (now dissipated,) was diseased.

So Kiss goodbye afflictions self imposed.
It's garbage. Put it out to be disposed.
It's obsolete. Each day have it bulldozed.
Go forward. Door to Hate looks better closed

Comment by David Gould on September 29, 2008 at 7:19pm

I think Jacky meant to post this on here rather than to each of us.

Woke up one morning
with despair all arousing
words failing and forlorn;
but fear not
says a voice from the past
this is Cowper a'calling
and so without further ado,
to the computer I went a trotting
to repost the words of a poet
that gave me a little respite
and then ... wham .... he speaks in tongue no different, hundreds of years and counting ....


"O for a lodge in some vast wilderness,
Some boundless contiguity of shade;
Where rumor of oppression and deceit,
Of unsuccessful or successful war,
Might never reach me more".

William Cowper, The Task Book II, The Time Piece

Comment by David Gould on September 28, 2008 at 1:38am

Bluesy. Strange how minds think alike this is a poem of mine from earlier this year:

Words

If words alone were a comfort,
they would have come rounded,
soft, caressing tight packed
ready to hug, fluffy and downy.

Instead they come along a line,
on a page or carved on stones,
or spat out from angry mouths
the drunken curse or scolding.

If words alone were a comfort
I could rest my poor weary head
upon a safe soft dictionary
and let the world spin ever on.

But words in newsprint shock,
the unsuspecting text or letter
gives us bad news from afar
bereavement or money owing.

Words alone can’t be a comfort,
nor have any healing touch
unless touched by a feeling heart
and given as an act of love.

David © 2008

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