Deal reached to free Hana Shalibi

Further to my post earlier this week, on the 43rd day of her hunger strike, Israel has supposedly made a compromise. They have decided to co-exile her to 7 years to the Gaza Strip. I am glad that she has survived her ordeal and that she will not now join the ranks of the Palestinian martyrs. But technically she will still be denied her freedom, banished to the open prison which is Gaza. Far away from her home village Burqin in the northern part of the West Bank and far away from her family. A woman I add who has never had any formal charge laid against her. Still the abusive practice of Administation continues, with more than 300 Palestinian prisoners still being held in these circumstances. Also the growing use of hunger strikes amongst other prisoners will continue to cause major hiccups for Israel in the long run.
The people of Palestine will not forget Hana Shalibi's courage and the stuggle for justice, reform and liberation for Palestine and the Palestinian peope will continue.
And today ( incidentally the day after Palestinian Land Day) and tomorrow, the international community will  continue to protest and demonstrate, campaign for boycotts, divestment and sanctions will go on, until Israel complies with International law and stops responding with blind indifference.
Viva Palestine.

CAMERON I WOULD CALL YOU A CUNT - Ms. Something-Else and her Uke)

The Conservative Party's policies deeply unpopular at the moment. Aren't they always. As for their leader, well ! ! ! Here's a lovely song that sums up the general feeling, that I can see being sung up and down the country, that will be guarateed to wipe away the smug smiles of many a tory.

Cameron I Would Call You A Cunt (Ms. Something-Else and her Uke)

                                                           So it's farewell to the NHS
                                                              Legal aid and pensions
                                                              Working for your dole 
                                                          When employmen's in a hole
                                                            And not to fuckin mention
                                                              Tax cuts for the richest  
                                                            Benefit cuts for the richest
                                                          Can you please explain to me
                                               Why we should tolerate your shit anymore?
                                                       Cameron, I would call you a cunt,
                                                   But you don't have the depth or charm
                                                          And if we should ever meet
                                                       You'll also meet my bailing arm.  
                                                      Cameron, I would call you a cunt
                                                   But the usefulness and beauty are amiss
                                                            And if we should ever meet
                                                        I'll be giving you a Glascow kiss.
                                                       It's a bit wierd getting your jollies
                                                       From inreasing our risk of dying
                                                           Or can you just not get it up
                                                  Without the thought of poor folks crying?
                                                           You punch tables, victorious
                                                 Each time you whack another coffin nail in
                                                      While I punch pictures of your face
                                                       Man, my hate for you is unfailing..
                                                      Cameron, I would call you a cunt,
                                                 But you don't have the depth or charm
                                                          And if we should ever meet
                                                       You'll also meet my bailing arm.
                                                      Cameron, I would call you a cunt
                                                 But the usefulness and beauty are amiss
                                                          And if we should ever meet
                                                      I'll be giving you a Glasgow kiss.
                                         You murder what we breathed life in to for years
                                       Rape the state born from our blood, sweat and tears
                                        Abuse our children with all these unnecessary cuts
                                            If we ever meet, may your god help your nuts..
                                                     Cameron, I would call you a cunt,
                                                  But you don't have the depth or charm
                                                           And if we should ever meet
                                                       You'll also meet my bailing arm.
                                                        Cameron, I will call you a cunt
                                                        As you are very good at pissing
                                                    down on those living hand to mouth
                                                 Let's hook up for some Glasgow kissing

More wonderful rants and rhymes
from Ms. Something-Else over
Here
http://rantsthatrhyme.wordpress.com/




                                                 
  

I like a good Pastie.

Cultivate Hope a poem for Hana Shalabi - Rafeef Ziadah

The following video poem in solidarity with hunger striking Palestinian prisoner was created by the Palestinian poet Rafeef Ziadah.
Hana Shalabi is a Palestinian political prisoner. She was released over 2 years ago from administrative detention on October 18 2011, as part of the prisoner exchange deal. She was rearrested less than four months later on February 16 2012.
Yesterday marked the 40th day of her hunger strike. It has been reported that she is in danger of imminent death and has great difficulty standing and has extremely low blood pressure.
She is one of over 200 Palestinians currently held in administrative detention in Israeli prisons. This practice allows Israel to hold detainess for up to 6 months ( and can also indefinitely renew the decision).In total their are 4,637 Palestinian political prisoners in the jails of the Israeli occupation, 20 of whom continue to be held in isolation, from Palestinian national leaders and Palestinian children, all of whom are demanding freedom. Hana Shalabi wants freedom or death, and not just for herself. It's for all the wrongfully imprisoned Palestinians.
Yesterday Hana's appeal for the ending of her administrative detention was denied. Stating that she was resposible for her own recovery. Administative detention dates from the British Emergency Law of 1945 under the British Mandate of Palestine.
Amnesty International has issued a new appeal calling for Hana's release and declared her a prisoner of conscience.
- however,many other human rights organisations have maintained complete silence.

Cultivate Hope - words by Rafeef Ziadeh,
                             music by Phil Monsour.



Please Click here to send a letter to Israeli officials demanding Hana's release.

http://samidoun.ca/2012/02/take-action-today-for-hana-al-shalabi-administrative-detainee-and-hunger-striker/#letter

The sun might be shining, here in West Wales
but that does not mean that I should forget.

Lawrence Ferlinghetti (b. 24/3/19) - Sometime During Eternity/ Constantly Risking Absurdity.

Mr Ferlinghetti 93 years young, yesterday....... so belated birthday greetings to this beat icon.
A heretic, rebel, civil libertarian, painter , poet , publisher...... who is still writing, painting,plain speaking, travelling widely.
I thank him for  his huge wonderful contribution to the world of literature.
As I post this I realise I am baking, it's a rather balmy , beautiful spring day over here in my little corner, so in a minute, gathering up some of his books and finding a quiet spot somewhere, to bathe a while in some of his thoughts, and enjoy some moments of peace.

Sometime During Eternity

                         Sometime during eternity
                                                              some gus show up
and one of them
                         who shows up real late
                                                            is a kind of carpenter
from some square-type place
                                           like Galilee
 and he starts wailing
                               and claiming he is hip
  to who made heaven
                                 and earth
                                       and that the cat
   who really laid it on us
                            is his Dad
And moreover
  he adds
              It's all writ down
                                     on some scroll-type parchments
which some henchmen
          leave lying around the Dead Sea somewheres
     a long time ago
                           and which you won't even find
for a coupla thousand years or so
                                                  or at least for
       nineteen hundred and fortyseven
                                                      of them
                        to be exact
                                        and even then
     nobody really believes them
                                               or me
                                                        for that matter

    You're hot
     they tell him
     And they cool him
     They stretch him on the Tree to cool
           And everybody after that
                                                 is always making models
                      of this Tree
                                      with Him hung up
and always crooning his name
                                             and calling Him to come down
                            and sit in
                                         on their combo
            as if he is the king cat
                                           who's got to blow
  or they can't quite make it
  Only he don't come down
                                       from His Tree
Him just hang there
                             on His Tree
                                              looking real Petered out
                                 and real cool
                                                   and also
 according to a roundup
                                    of late world news
from the usual unreliable sources
                                                real dead

From
These are my Rivers
New and Selected Poems 55-93

New Directions Press



Constantly Risking Absurdity

                Constantly risking absurdity
                                                         and death
                         whenever he performs
                                                      above the heads
                                                                            of his audience
     the    poet   like an acrobat
                                                  climbs on rime
                                                    to a high wire of his own making
 and  balancing on eyebeams
                                                       above a sea of faces
                paces his way
                                   to the other side of the day
    performing entrechats
                                and sleight-of-foot tricks
and other high theatrics
                               and all without mistaking
                  any thing
                                for what it may not be
      For he's the super realist
                                       who must perforce percieve
                taut truth
                                      before the taking of each stance or
                                                                                      step
  in his supposed advance
                                     toward that still higher perch
where Beauty stands and waits
                                          with gravity
                                                    to start her death-defying
                                                                                         leap
          And he
                    a little charleychaplin man
                                                who may or may not catch
                    her fair external form
                                               spreadeagled in the empty air
                         of   existence

Reprinted from
A Coney Island of the Mind
New Direction Press


Ferlinghetti ' Trailor'

Ferlinghetti by Ferlinghetti

                               
                                                           


                          
             

This sick Govt need locking up

WANTED

PLEASE AMEND THE ABOVE


THE HEIST HAS ALREADY

TAKEN PLACE

 VERY DANGEROUS........

CURRENTLY RUNNING AMOK