ISRAEL KILLED HADI(12)

Israel killed Hadi(12) in besieged Gaza Strip on August 26th 2014

Repeat after me:

Israel killed Hadi(12) in Palestine's besieged Gaza on August 26th 2014.

Israel killed Hadi's(12) brother in Palestine's besieged Gaza on August 26th 2014.

Israel killed Hadi's(12) father in Palestine's besieged Gaza on August 26th 2014.

Israel killed Hadi(12).

Israel doesn't 'want peace'.

Israel killed Hadi(12).

Israel killed Hadi(12).

Israel has no right 'to defend itself'.

Israel killed Hadi(12).

Israel killed Hadi(12).

Israel has no right to exist.

Israel killed Hadi(12).

Israel killed Hadi(12).

Hadi is dead.

He looks at us from a photo, suspicious eyes under his dark-brown hair.

Suspicious towards the world that would allow Israel to kill him.

To kill his brother. To kill his father.

Suspicious towards future that would arrive,

not bringing long life,

not bringing old age

but death at age 12,

killed by Israel,

killed by the world.

Israel killed Hadi(12).
World killed Hadi(12).

Repeat.

2014-26.08.2016

Existence written on the space-time foam

The illusion

the illusion

the illusion of being alive

of living

of existing

the illusion

the illusion

the illusion of being alive

of living

of existing

the pain and fear

multiplied

by the fear

of not being alive

of being dead

a corpse

a cadaver

of not existing

being cut off from existence

thrown into a trash bin

somewhere out

of time and space and matter

all the pain

and fear

for an illusion

an illusion

an illusion of life

an illusion of existence

an illusion of living

an illusion of an illusion ending

an illusion

an illusion

an illusion ending

25.08.2016

The past is now a knife in the stomach

being twisted as

blood fills mouth

there is nothing to be done

but feel the blade burning cold

erupting the belly

feel the pain

remember

remember

25.08.2016

Philip Larkin(1922-1985)

He looked like a racist librarian

Vomited by Oxbridge

Obsessed with pornography

And that he was

A hoarder of filth

Behind a facade

Of a Poet

Building tunnels through his hate

An Englishman's Englishman of

Misogynism and prejudice

Bald little man

So little little man

22.08.2016

Time, being an illusion trapping our consciousness,

disallows us to realize the greater cage

where we, like goldfish in a bowl,

are kept, sentience adrift between existence

and non-existence, trying to keep it all coherent

when everything is but an album of photos

thrown at the floor, from the first cry

to the last sob.

21.08.2016

Weldon Kees(1914-1955)

The ocean takes care of all the problems

but at the last moments -

...always regret.

The deep blue with its strong currents

fought

for the paler blue for its winds,

air.

The tender grip

of ocean

never gives up.

21.08.2016

The refugees from the Nazis and us

The refugees of the past

are (always) dealt with more compassion,

understanding and warmth

than those of today,

in rubber dinghies sailing the Mediterranean blue,

shivering in tent camps' limbo.

Feeling close to those who have died long ago,

their graves tended with some care,

distancing us from the bodies

the waves push on the beaches,

the unwanted from the sea's embrace;

fooling ourselves thinking that back then,

with those other refugees,

we would have acted differently.

20.08.2016

Aaron Sorkin wants to sell something to me

A smile of honest eagerness on your lips

is not becoming for a man of wealth and fame

those eyes wanting to please

whoever would buy your craft and touch

devoid of the cold lack of emotion

all real men of substance and property carry

signal hoi polloi of G.I. bills in your family tree

make you look like Jim Carrey

playing Hollywood screenwriter

19.08.2016

The death of Joseph Roth(1894-1939)

An escape for a man who knew what was coming

from the building project of Hell on Earth

to the silence at the cemetery

where words flow on headstones

like the life-ending liquids once did

when a grave of your own

was to become something cherished

as mass graves' bloomed with rot

To die then was to be lucky

when the arteries of the world erupted

pouring fountains of blood

clouds of ash from ovens

where no bread was ever made

19.08.2016

A call of liberty to pirates

A mega yacht

should always be

a death sentence.

Walking the plank

to ocean blue

with a fake captain's hat

a billionaire's fate.

Slipping into the waves

sleek hulls

and less sleek captains

of finance.

19.08.2016

Let's embrace class hate,

let's fight a class war

One rich man

with a broken neck

and a stilled heart

is worth

ten living ones.

19.08.2016

The death of the famous, the wealthy,

the powerful, the moths basking in the flame

of celebrity -

all these are to be rejoiced,

taken with gratitude and cherished

as sources of endless joy.

19.08.2016

DIE JUNGE FRANZ

Hugo von Hofmannsthal(1874-1929)

Fate reserved him

an end worthy of his pen:

A child of his loins

quieting their own heart

brought him

the silence of the Earth

resting heavily

upon his unmoving bosom.

(Praise to be to the privileged

who not only end their own privilege,

without a hope of resurrection,

but their fathers' as well.)

19.08.2016-17.03.2022

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

Abu Nuwas(c. 760 - before 816)

Wine and beautiful faces,

long nights spent entertaining those

from whose hands coins dropped

on a poet's palm,

witty lines to lighten up

the crowd in a tavern and a palace,

witty lines to remember

when the poet's path

diverted to jail.

In the end, shadows closing in

hid the the fate

like arrows hid al-Amin

under the waves.

18.08.2016

Patrick White(1912-1990)

A flourishing deciduous tree, splendid

in the sunshine of the late afternoon

and just before sunset,

at the evening when all is calm.

A tree whose bright foliage

protected you from the rain

on an early autumn day

when you rested your weary back

against its bark.

A tree under a blue sky

which carried no seed,

never had a sapling growing

beside it. A tree

which was the beginning and the end.

When the leaves fell the last time

no spring ever brought them back.

17.08.2016

It matters not

The dead we carry with us,

their lives flickering in our memories and thoughts;

those that could come waver on the precipice of existence

- phantoms pleading us

to give them life and blood to flow inside veins

through our days.

The past and the future connect in us,

the past before us and after us,

the future before us and after us,

and whether we are dead, living or yet unborn

matters not, for

for time all points are the same.

10.08.2016

Stuck above an abyss

narrow enough so

that you might leap over it,

if you have no courage to jump

you can always fall.

In the end, in the great scheme

of life

it makes no difference.

10.08.2016

Something in the human nature

All those pillar saints shitting

and pissing from their high pedestals

down to the crowds waiting for the miracles

and nobody thought them any less holy

07.08.2016

Sun wrapped in the branches of an alder,

tenderly;

the sky a blue sea flapping the cloudy bays,

and I hanging from the green grass

above the abyss,

as the world spirals around.

07.08.2016

Stealing bikes from little girls

who dare to cross the chain to the Jewish side of the Jim Crow line,

shooting young boys going through a hole in an Apartheid fence

to pick herbs from his family's land for his mother,

killing young siblings feeding their pet pigeon on the roof of their home -

this is the Israel that "is a beacon of freedom shining its light in the entire world",

"the only democracy in the Middle East", Israel

"which shares our Western values".

I have had shit at the bottom of my boots

that have had more value than Israel.

07.08.2016

While listening to Giovanni Bononcini's(1670-1747) 'Il trionfo di Camilla'(1696),
with a libretto by Nicola Francesco Haym(1678-1729),
half past four post meridiem on August 1st 2016

Some rain, some coffee with cheese and salad,

droplets running down the window pane,

old coffee with a bitter taste,

the bitter taste of a darkening afternoon,

all those far-sailing clouds

giving birth to these misguided tears.

01.08.2016

WEARING OUR FACES

Some unoriginal thoughts about humans' mortality, after Wisława Szymborska.

The past is a graveyard,

and tomorrow's grave-diggers

are born today,

wearing the faces of the long dead,

the atoms in their bodies

recycled from rebirth to rebirth.

01.08.2016-17.03.2022

#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

The Christians have one way

from the baptismal font,

out through the church doors

and on to the path through

the graveyard to their open grave.

Pity them.

The same church bells ring

for their birth, their death.

Pity them.

01.08.2016