May your weddings be blessed!
May your life be filled with light,
May your dreams come true.
On your most beautiful and joyful day,
May your weddings be blessed.
May the groom have honor and devotion,
May the bride have a beautiful smile.
May no one cast an evil eye on your happiness,
May your weddings be blessed!
Today, relatives and friends gather,
May your faces always be bright.
May everyone envy you,
May your weddings be blessed!
Two friends went on a trip,
Meetings are such a small jar,
They want to know what’s in it,
But the inside of the jug is very narrow.
The thought came to the jar,
It didn’t look like that.
Even if they want to go down,
The wind is blowing very fast.
At first glance,
So in the jar,
Unable to get out of the jar,
The two hunters panicked.
Then the fox came,
He wanted to help.
He raised the jug and poured water from his eyes.
It fell out of the jar,
Traveling comrades,
Repentance ate like this.
But it was too late Immediately the fox,
He wanted to eat, wow.
Come hunter brother
He caught the fox.
Put a wipe on the neck,
Take advantage of this time.
The two ran away,
Our story too.
This time is over.
Enakhan Siddikova’s poem
“O walk in the world of the heart,
Teach your heart to follow your heart.
Do whatever it takes.
Teach me to be happy with you.”
Don’t make life difficult, don’t make him cry
Do not sink into the abyss forever.
An evening tormented by the torment of conscience,
To call someone a friend is to help him.
Don’t ask me what’s wrong, my friend.
Its melody is trust, its garden is loyalty.
Instantly knocks down a thousand-year-old wall,
A little hatred if felt in the hearts.
O walk in the world of the heart,
Teach your heart to follow your heart…
Nilufar Anvarova, 8th grade student of the creative school named after Erkin Vahidov.
THE DISCOUNT MAP
writing rhymes
of seasons and reasons
is a way of charting weather.
Try to know – somehow –
when it’s going to rain.
Map experience
and figure the cost.
Nothing is free
and sometimes half-off.
San Francisco and the Ongoing Homeless Situation
A few years ago there was an election, and as usual I received a Voter’s Information Handbook from the San Francisco Dept. of Elections. Among the propositions there was the expected request for additional funding to solve the homeless crisis in our fair city.
One of the rebuttals to why this legislation was so important pointed out that there are over sixty agencies in San Francisco whose sole purpose is to ‘help the homeless.’ Well, I said to myself this equates to sixty sets of office infrastructure (computers, scotch tape, staplers etc.,) sixty sets of mortgages and/or rent, sixty sets of staff and sixty sets of Strategic Plans. No wonder so little of the voted-for money is actually helping ‘the homeless.’
Once upon a time, some of the homeless lived rent-free in Golden Gate Park. An intrepid group of them excavated a hill and made it livable. Then the sweeps came and now there are only a few, forlornly holding their blankets and sleeping bags through the rain, the fog and the cold. In my Chi-Chi neighborhood they sometimes stumble through, looking like they’ve been in a war.
It’s possible for the sane ones to go to the San Francisco Public Library Main Branch and ask at the Information Desk for a Hossa Monday through Friday from 1-3 pm. Hossas are formerly homeless individuals who have resource lists and information for shelter, showers, meals and clothing among other things. The out-to-lunch people usually don’t care to hear about this as an option, rightfully fearing they will be put in-patient into a psychiatric ward.
It’s also tricky when the homeless have a dog or dogs because after someone was bitten at a library, dogs are not customarily allowed to visit the library branches, card or no card.
I found that the predominant feature almost all homeless people share is hunger, so I carry light, portable snacks. Hunger bites.
Back to Golden Gate Park. In my younger years I worked for a Podiatrist, who crowed to me that, “I love joggers.” This was due to the fact that his foot patients who ran routinely on cement usually needed foot surgery at some point from all the wear and tear on their joints. His solution that he shared with me (because I wouldn’t be caught dead jogging) was that if joggers exercised on grassy land, it would cushion the shock of running rather than destroying their bones.
Two more pieces of wisdom he was shared with me: 1) Try to buy two identical pairs of shoes – by alternating back and forth the shoes will last four times as long as if you were wearing one pair of shoes. 2) Leather gives. When wearing patent leather, what gives is your feet. He was an interesting character who also used to treat elderly Chinese women who had bound feet.
No one can make our homeless problem go totally away, but it’s good to use common sense and compassion to deal with the situation.
—
Since 1982 [in California] we have built 22 prisons and three universities. It costs $52,000 a year to house a prisoner, more than the tuition at Stanford.
-Heard on a broadcast of The Commonwealth Club
TREES
If you have only one
center of calm
(circle of intent &
compass of silver,)
stay among the trees
for they’re not bothered by
a storm.
KARST ON A SISTER HEAD
Karst on the head of a sister
Like a denudated surface of a home
Silence sings her name in a flying universe
She’s still a crawling baby with a portraits
of a cracked verse on her palms
She’s a sister in a carved star breathing
fire
When the stars reborn she will be a
diamond castle of a new dawn.
WISHES WERE DEAD SONGS
I wish darkness was never a dead song
Of night….
I wish it has never painted my mothers
tongue like a city of grief….
I wish it was never a colour and symphony
of the dead…..
I wish darkness turns white like paradise
on earth…..
I wish it never swallows a brother in
his new world…..
Rahmat A. Muhammad is a poet from northern Nigeria.
GAZA
Gaza, land of ancient olive trees,
its branches, arms that implore the sky,
its leaves, yellowish green tears,
under a scorching sun, a slow fire.
Its houses, boats stranded on the sand,
hit by waves of war and apathy,
its walls, stories engraved in stone,
of resistance and pain, an open wound.
Its children, flowers that grow among rubble,
with eyes that reflect an uncertain tomorrow,
full of the uncertainty of reconstruction.
its laughter, echoes that seek a tomorrow,
in a withered garden, with no spring nearby.
Its streets, rivers of tears and hope,
that flow among ruins, looking for a way out,
its people, stars that shine in the night,
despite the darkness, a light on.
Gaza, a poem written in blood and pain,
a song to life, which resists the clamor,
a cry of hope, which rises to the sky,
a call for peace, a new future.
GRACIELA NOEMI VILLAVERDE is a writer and poet from Concepción del Uruguay (Entre Rios) Argentina, based in Buenos Aires She graduated in letters and is the author of seven books of poetry, awarded several times worldwide. She works as the World Manager of Educational and Social Projects of the Hispanic World Union of Writers and is the UHE World Honorary President of the same institution Activa de la Sade, Argentine Society of Writers. She is the Commissioner of Honor in the executive cabinet IN THE EDUCATIONAL AND SOCIAL RELATIONS DIVISION, of the UNACCC SOUTH AMERICA ARGENTINA CHAPTER.
America declared its independence from British dependence,
But continues to depend on hating the other and
Hate has always been and will always be about fear
How ironic that America was instituted by members of the other
That is other than the indigenous natives of the Americas
fleeing persecution for being the other in their homelands…
Only to persecute the natives and project “the other” identify upon them
What is the American “value” system
Other than “systemic” racial suppression?
A questionable choice to uphold
Despotic ideologies of white supremacy!
To choose to demonize and otherize the marginalized
Without accounting for the margins of error in judgement of the ostracized.
Who’s casting the stones?
The silent and the complacent
for through your silence,
Imposing imperialists have garnered your consent.
Don’t be a voiceless puppet and voice your dissent!
Reacquaint yourself with your history
Reaffirm your contributions to humanity
Do NOT let colonial dictators dictate your story!
For it was “the others” who built this country
This American land of freedom and liberty?!
The enslaved Africans,
The FIRST known civilization in human history
Who toiled and sowed the earth only to reap
Inequality and brutality.
The indigenous American Indians:
The original “founding fathers”
Initially labeled “savages”
Unfit to inhabit American lands
They already cultivated for over 10,000 years,
That is longer than the Europeans were in Europe!
Only to coincide with European tribal genocide…
Later a great lot would succumb to suicide!
The Asians who built the transcontinental railroad
Connecting the east to the American west only to be deemed
Unworthy dog and cat eating slobs
who threaten white American jobs…
Now that pejorative has been projected onto Haitians from Haiti,
the once RICHEST country in the Americas,
Whose monetary fluency France used to supplement
The American fight for liberation under the toe of British oppression
Les Chasseurs Volontaires D’haiti,
The Volunteer Chasers from Haiti
Who chased the Brits from Savannah, Georgia
The largest group of fighters of African descent
WERE the Haitians now immortalized through a monument for posterity.
All the enslaved Africans who quite literally
“Built” America are ALL worthy of human dignity.
For it was Afro-Haitian explorer Jean Baptiste DuSable
Who was the “founding father” of Chicago!
Cut from the cloth of the same persecuted people
Who are now being branded as “dog and cat eaters”
To supplement the cause of socio-politico fearmongers…
What is the American “value” system?
Besides “systemic” racial suppression and
Despotic “values” and ideologies of White Supremacy?
Bearing in mind that “hate” is NOT a “value”.
It is the narrative of “fear” from the oligarchy!
[Previously published in Wilderness House Literary Review]
*Please Note: Inspired by Guardian Scapegoating article on Asians and Haitians eating pets
Jacques Fleury is a Boston Globe featured Haitian American Poet, Educator, Author of four books and a literary arts student at Harvard University online. His latest publication “You Are Enough: The Journey to Accepting Your Authentic Self” & other titles are available at all Boston Public Libraries, the University of Massachusetts Healey Library, University of Wyoming, Askews and Holts Library Services in the United Kingdom, The Harvard Book Store, The Grolier Poetry Bookshop, Amazon etc… He has been published in prestigious publications such as Wilderness House Literary Review, Muddy River Poetry Review, Litterateur Redefining World anthologies out of India, Poets Reading the News, the Cornell University Press anthology Class Lives: Stories from Our Economic Divide, Boston Area Small Press and Poetry Scene among others…Visit him at: http://www.authorsden.com/jacquesfleury.
