Tuesday, December 31, 2013


Wednesday, December 11, 2013

the gift... a poem

she heard he dreamed of a better way...
so,
a stone she gave him,
she had found on the shore...
near an ocean of luv,
a pebble of hope she thought...
with which to lay foundations
in the home of peace, he hoped 2 build...
for it is said that the key to a solid home
is in its foundations ...
& she hoped he would not cast it asunder
for that would wound her very soul...
& she had heard it had been said
only he without sin should cast stones

 & no one, was every truly, without sin...
so...
 no stones should ever be cast to wound...
 although she had heard too...

that once upon another time...
a gentle, innocent child
had slain a mighty giant...
with a tiny pebble of hope...

&... also

A looking glass she gave him ...
that he could look ...
deep inside his soul ...
& see his inner strength,
his god self ...
in privacy...
& in reflections...
for in reflections humility is found...
& the warmth of the sun...
& the glow of the moon...
radiate, shine & reflect...
 from the souls of the humble...
bringing peace, comfort & love
to the world...

Saturday, December 7, 2013

THE UNNAMED MARTYRS a poem

 
The following poem I wrote in 1982 while working in Damascus Syria. It was not about Syria or Palestine, it was written after watching footage on TV news reports from the Iran Iraq war.
However I think it reflects my sentiment, which still applys today, in regard of the millions of children & young people who die in wars fighting for religious & political agenda propagated by adults, children who should not be faced with the wars & conflicts that see them killed or driven from their lands when they should be enjoying childhood & their lifes free from tyrany  & the prospect of "martyrdom" that takes their young life's & put them in graves much earlier than any child should die.

THE UNNAMED MARTYRS
         (Damascus Syria 1982)
They are the sons of martyrs
Children, they march to certain glory…
As there fathers and grandfathers before them.
They die for a cause … no longer clear
Brainwashed to die, without fear.
They say it is written, that this be the way
So, they march to they’re destiny…
Together they pray.
Thousands cry, Thousands die.
They and their forefathers …know the reasons why.
They die for religion
They die for their faith,
Too many unnamed martyrs
With unmarked graves.