Start of the Season | Voices for Creative Nonviolence

Start of the Season | Voices for Creative Nonviolence

1. An Old Woman From Hunan Photo by Hattie He (何珊珊He Shanshan)

Here I sit with my basket of wares.

There you are, Tourist, traveler adventurer seeker

I have things to sell.

You want memories to buy

Show people you were literally here

The essential story is the one of my life.

Look into my eyes and everything you will see

The memory is that you connect with me.

Slow down take a look my trinkets are cheap.

Sit here a while talk to me my life is full and rich.

With the map on my face to wondrous lands you can travel

I was a frolicking child a mere fortnight ago.

Now older in my years from this earth I will soon depart

The moment is now. I sit and I watch getting richer each day

Me preparing for my journey. You back home to yours

Slow down, buy a trinket, exchange a word, take a picture

Mother and four daughters plan a wedding

"H0w they make any dangers on Israel these women in the picture?"

On a fine sunny day buttercups are blooming.

The birds are chirping, silly sparrow. What are you saying?

The sky is blue, the air is fresh.

A Mother with her daughters four, the youngest is five;

happily talking of the wedding to come. They all feel mirthful and alive.

A celebration, in times of trouble?

There will be music, Debke, food and song

Every one is invited, just come along.

The bread is baked the wedding is near

Preparations are done. We will sit out here.

A celebration in times of trouble!

As the breeze kisses our cheeks, we talk, we laugh.

Women gathered in sacred circle. Men pray at the mosque.

Mother happy, her daughter is grown, so many dreams yet to be fulfilled.

Sisters shy who is next to wed. Proud of their sister, smart in science and technology.

A celebration in times of trouble

As one speaks the others can not quite hear.

Her voice droned out. The familiar ominous monotone remote control buzz.

Stalking 1/2 ton predatory killing machine Cost 4.5 million. Hovering above.

They can see it. They continue to talk, push their fear aside.

They have a wedding to plan. Sitting out there in the open, they have nothing to hide.

Then suddenly deafening boom. Metal and cement penetrated. Like a bullseye in the circle's core it exploded

Sweet frail bodies with a thousand plastic marbles, decimated. X-Ray will evade. All hail plastic bullets. So safe they are, so humane. Slow internal bleeding no one can see. What you can not be see just did not happen.

Smell this guilty fire, tell the hair in your nose. Something bad has happened innocent flesh has been burned. Mother is dead so is the bride, everyone injured. Shocked and traumatized.

The burst of red blood, the screams of terror, help me, someone please help. who, what, why?

A single smart missile made in good old USA. Given as a Gift to the Zionist nation. Protect yourself my politicians said. From the unarmed besieged, impoverished Palestinians. Here take more bombs f16s take 3.3 billion.

Help arrives. There is no help that can heal this.

Brave men separate shredded flesh from the metal.

La ilaha il allah, Ashhadu an la ilaha il Allah

A finger here a leg there. Quick hide the head from the bereaved father/husband

Wa ashad anna Muhammad ur Rasulo.

The funeral march. There is no wedding.

Who pulled the trigger on the Drone that day. Does you mother know? What would she say? A mere video game with real life you play.

Air conditioned office, Comfy chair, Joystick, super HD video screen. Apartheid support soft drinks and yummy snacks at your side.

Drive home in your car, eat dinner, watch T.V. Do you have an idea of the doomsday you caused? One small button you pressed many lives annihilated.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WlRxopyhUp0&feature=player_embedded#at=108

On our way to school

We are on our way to school.

We love our teacher.

We read, we write we play and sing.

Memories of the war hang heavily around us

The death, the screaming, the sound and smell.

The colour of blood we know too well.

We've seen it all. nothing spared.

We are going to school

White bows on our head.

White so they may see us and not shoot, I think.

Sometimes I wish I could just wear pink.

looking for something?

looking for something?

This is my lunch.

This is my book.

This is my pencil.

looking for something?

What are you afraid of?

What have I done?

What have they done to you?

looking for something?

One day you will be a mother.

One day you will have a son.

One day you will reflect

looking for something?

Look into my eyes; not my bag.

Look into my soul; not your fears.

Look into my heart so full of love.

Found anything?

on his land he stands

On his land he stands.

They stand behind him. The occupying power.
Armed and ready. Fingers on the trigger.
His feet planted firmly on "his" land. A country stolen.
She supports him, proud to be his wife.
He has a date with danger. Will he come home?

They speak to their Generals. What orders will they give?
"Stand by" "Tear Gas" "Skunk Gas" "water canon" "Sound blast" that blows up eardrums" or simply

"Shoot to kill" "Shoot to kill?" "Shoot to kill"

Why do you do this? What have they done?
His living here, is "the" crime.
You steal his land, is "your law."
His resistance is your license to kill him.
How dare you shoot him, for asking for what is his.

This was tried in Hitler's Germany.
Were we not appalled?
Were we not disgusted?
Did we do something?
Did it stop?

62 years of silence.
Enough is Enough, is Enough, is Enough

Give him his land back, 1967. let his people return. 1967
There is room enough for you.There is room enough for him.
Stop this, raping, pillaging, torture, humiliation; wanton murder,degradation.
refuse to take those evil orders.
It happened to you then, you do it to him now.
Never again was for no one.

62 years of silence
Enough is Enough, is Enough, is Enough.

(I do not own this photo, it is the property of Mousa Maria)

The Spark that Lit the Revolution (For Asmaa Mahfouz and the people of Egypt)

The Spark that Lit the Revolution

She spoke so softly.

She cared about the four that burned

to protest poverty hunger and humiliation.

She heard one say too bad they killed themselves for nothing.

She would not let it be that way

Their death meant a lot. They wanted to spark a Revolution

She saw this now, She could not be silent

She used technology, making a plea

Do not let their act go to waste don't you see they feared their living condition

worse than death. Do you want to die as you live? She told them

Come out, come out

She said she would be there.

She would not set herself on fire. If security forces wanted let them she would.

A few showed up.

Armoured cars and many thugs. They pushed they shoved, intimidated.

Go home, put your signs away. Don't come back. Silly fools stop this rubbish.

She would not be silent. She had something to say

She would not set herself on fire. If security forces wanted then let them she would.

She used technology.

She sent a plea, that touched their soul. It touched their heart. It hit a chord. It hit a nerve.

The seven minutes that changed the word.

The sound was heard across the sky. It traveled through Egypt, N.Y, Paris and London

The spark that started The Revolution.

Show up Egypt Show up or die.

Dead we already are. live under fear we do.

Show up men, women, people stand tall.

Do it for yourself, the children, the future.

Yalla,Yalla, Yalla, Egypt.

People arrived, Oh yes they arrived. Like a river they flowed The Nile she would be proud.

north, west, east and south. Crowds swelled like no one had seen.

The police, beat them, bloodied, injured and killed them.

They sent thugs on camels, and goons on horses. How much do you pay a man to kill his own people?

guns, tear gas bullets and fire.

Raining, raining, raining Death in the air, Blood bath or not. Blood on his hands.

People kept arriving,

like a river flowing.

People power had arrived. it had no fear.

The bullets the beatings, interrogation did nothing

People power had arrived people power would stay.

Cut off their communication. Phones and computers.

People power kept coming, leaders shook in their boots

Phone calls were made in high up places.

People power kept coming, they found a way

Coming, coming, coming they did.

people continue to be kidnapped, hit, interrogated and arrested.

The attempt to subdue them is not working.

Powerful baby men in their boots are shaking.

The youth has spoken, and will not be silenced.

The student, The peasant, The mother, The father, grandmother, doctor, sister and daughter. artist poet, writer and son, scientist, farmer, civil servant, musician. The man in his wheelchair repeatedly beaten.

Over it, over it, over it. They are

over being scared, being told what to do;

what to think where to go.

what to read, what to not.

after fear, after fear, after fear after fear year after, year after, year after year.

Give them freedom or give them death.

Neither guns or bombs or tear gas will stop them

Tharir Square the symbol of liberation.

They stand and chant, their message is clear

Ring the bells sound the horn.

Their dignity is near.

Step down torturer and brutal regime.

go away, fly away, just disappear.

Step down torturer and brutal regime

Run away, sneak away in to the night

Take the billions you stole, We will not press charges.

Leave us alone. We will rule ourselves.

With dignity, humanity, honour and choice.

Democracy is what you have

Democracy is what we want

We want to live,

We want to love,

We want to dance

We want to sing

We want to kiss

We want to hug

We want to play

We want to laugh

Our minds are clear, our bodies are free

Get out, get out, stark raving mad politicians

take the billions you stole. we can not be bought.

We will peacefully protest till our plea is heard

Ring the bells sound the horns

Our dignity is here