The flow of magic.

( possibly  without access to computer tomorrow, so an old  post of celebration)

Happy Samhein/ Calan Gaeaf


As Octobers, splendour surrenders,
coalesces and dissolves,
and the veil lifts again  on the earth,
poets try to communicate,
the sliced magic of things once witnessed,
to breathe a little  life out of thougths which grow within.

Near the rivers edge, time moves  in slow motion,
bubbling invocations leave their notation,
as words slip and slide, on thresholds rotation,
planting seeds from beneath skin,
this night of divination, allows us to keep searching,
with seas of ink and love, to replenish the earth with feeling.

Minds flying full of cobbled webs and threads,
follow the hubble bubble of exchange,
scribbled echoes and dreamscapes cast free,
to tunnel  our breaths with light and shade,
verses shaking loose undercurrents of imagination,
tides sweeping letters adrift on seas of navigation.

Our arrows shoot far into the sky,
pierce the night and its shadows,
from bright gatherings, nourishment, 
                       gets  released into air,
resonating with human care,
keeps this grinning manic world,
spinning with the afterglow of reason.

One Hour of Yiddish Communist Music

Following  yesterday's post, some more music......  normal service might resume soon. Though tell me what is normal? Boycott consensual reality.
Let freedom ring.

One Hour of IWW Music

Some musical respite - One hour of music from the Wobblies, the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW). The Union for all workers,  who used music more  pervasively than any other labor group.
Their songs and messages still resonating deeply with us today.  
Solidarity forever, remember an injury to one is an injury to all.

We shall return - Return is a human right

                                               We shall return - Return  is a human right

                                               Artist :- Alberto Smith Seravia

The right of return is a universal right, that is binding under international law, enjoyed by every people regardless of where they come from.
The idea of universal rights is an ancient one, but one of its first international expressions is found in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) which was proclaimed by the United Nations in 1949 "as a common achievement for all people and all nations."
One  of the core rights set out in the UDHR is the right of return, Article 13 (b) of the UDHR states :- "Everyone has the right to leave any country including his own, and to return to his country , Palestinian refugees are entitled to this binding universal right in the same way that all other refugees are. There is a broad consensus that the right of return, along with the right of self-determination, is the foundation of the 66 year old struggle of the Palestinian people.
We must remember how the majority of the Palestinian people up to 750,000 were forcibly displaced and uprooted from their homes and lands in 1948 never to be allowed to return to their homes or communities that they were displaced from.
Today there are more than 7 million Palestinian refugees scattered across the world. Their right of return must be recognised in order for the ongoing conflict to be restored. The end of the occupation would certainly help achieve this, .Anything   less would be a denial of justice.
However the government of Israel opposes these moves  therefore making it impossible for peace to exist, Until Israel recognises this right and corrects the  ongoing injustice that has and is still being perpetrated against the Palestinian people, hope lies in pieces.

Scattered thoughts in October

                                   
As the day drifts,
leaves scatter,
people too,
spreading little thoughts,
across the land.

The sky turns grey,
as wild geese fly home,
I remember that life is a journey,
with opportunities of return.

My heart can be heavy,
but dreams can awaken,
as I wear autumns clothes,
with  jumpers to warm,
offer some protection,
as nights grow colder.

Walking alone,
I have felt a lot of damage,
left me in the past, a little undone,
but there is magic in the air,
as I play with  words,
am now travelling forwards,
on the road to somewhere else,
searching for seasons new adventure.

Britain accused of doing bidding for Chinese regime.

Britain has been accused of doing the bidding of the Chinese regime after UK police raided  the family of a Tiananmen Square survivor for standing in the road holding up protest banner in Central London. 
Chinese democracy activist Shao Jiang, 47 was arrested in the street outside Londons Mansion House where a reception was being held for visiting Chinese premier Xi Jinpig.  Shaos computers and mobile phone were seized as well. Shao helped organise the 1980 student protest in Tiananmen , managed to escape China, after being jailed for months, and moved to the UK where he now writes about China for Amnesty International. A totally over the top response by London's police doing the same now as oppressive forces in China.
Two pro Tibetan activists were also arrested at the same protest.
Britain's fawning warm reception has been criticised by human rights experts for ignoring Chinas history of violating individuals citizens rights. My thoughts are currently with struggling British steel workers about to be tossed on the scrap heap due to the impact of cheap Chinese imports, and how Britain is ignoring  Chinas human rights abuses , as human rights activists currently left languising in Chinese prisons while my Government pursues lucrative deals at the expense of humanity. China's continuing infringements of civil liberties will damage the interests of the whole world including the UK. Business as usual then as Britain carries on sucking up to totalitarian regimes.

Steve Bell's cartoon in the Guardian newspaper earlier this week.

Child of the refuge

( after sadly catching the news the other night, so an amalgamation of reportage.)

                                  Aya is 8 years old,
                                  her home is in  detention,
                                  behind barbed wire and fences,
                                  in a no- man's land,  
                                  a landscape mired in abandonment.
     
                                  Aya is shivering with cold,
                                  her jacket was once white,
                                  now it is drenched with rain,    
                                  and covered in mud,
                                  her brother cries, he  wants the touch of his mother,
                                  her father is desperate as well,
                                  wants them both delivered to safety,
                                  this is not a place where dreams will flourish,
                                  there are no tents for shelter, just seas of misery,
                                  disturbed intersections, between what passes as 
                                                                              a frontier of freedom.     

                                  Aya exists  in this world of chaos,
                                  with her companions, the walking wounded,
                                  crumbling  through the night and day,
                                  as a news cameraman pans in and out,
                                  relays images back to safe European homes,
                                  to be easily digested,  in the comfort of sanctuary.

                                 Aya one fragment of many shattered journeys,
                                 the nagging pain of humanity's pulse,
                                 the drifting sadness  of frightened children, 
                                                                               terrified people,
                                 with broken hearts and broken homes,
                                 four thousand refugees stranded and abandoned,
                                 within yards of the European Union.
                                   
                                 Aya I am truly ashamed, 
                                 of the despair that follows your journey,
                                 wish I could point you in the direction of paradise,
                                 support your tiny soul, strengthen your arms,
                                 stop the  nagging persecution, detention, trauma,
                                 release  you from the tears of seperation, anxiety and grief,
                                 clasp your wishes,  send you protection, 
                                 allow you to  continue your journey,
                                 to a land of security and hope,
                                 anywhere from this grim wasteland,
                                 no place for an innocent child.  

https://iamnotasilentpoet.wordpress.com/2015/10/29/cild-of-the-refuge-by-dave-rendle/