As part of Refugee Week's Simple Acts No. 2 – I attempted my first 20 word poem 'The Hurt of War': I see home in Hooyo's eyes, Torn by clan mentality, Exploited by western brutality, A ravaged nation still stands proud.#SimpleActs#RefugeeWeek2018#20WordPoem#AproudRefugee
Inspired by the death of Aylan Kurdi a 3 year old Syrian boy and the front page pictures of of a unfiromed man cradling a small child on a deserted beach.
The honey yellow sun slowly ascends the pale blue horizon,
Gentle waves break lightly against the golden sands, fizzing and foaming.
Holiday makers breakfast in plush hotels, loungers and brollies sit redundant.
The cool, damp beach is pristine and deserted.
But along with the weed and drift wood, the flotsam and jetsam of the morning tide has washed up death.
Tiny, pathetic bodies, scattered, lifeless and contorted,
Swollen and bloated from the suffocating sea, grey and inanimate.
The ocean ebbs and flows around the motionless corpses.
A tall dark, solitary figure surveys the sickening forms.
Slowly, stopping low reaching out to one small, still, inundated body.
Arms enfolding the now dead child.
Cradling, holding tight and firm,
Embracing, supporting, protecting.
But too late!!!!!
Inspired by the mass boat crossing from Africa to Europe in June 2016
Lying here now, still and quite,
Escaped from all the noise and riot,
Running from the bombs of war,
I now rest on sandy shore.
Fleeing from my home and land.
At last, respite upon the sand.
No more to fear am I a slave,
Instead I catch the breaking waves.
To this far shore my family travelled.
From suffering as life unravelled
Souls adrift,… cast aside,
Finding refuge on the tide.
The planes and missiles no longer screech,
On this deserted empty beach.
Peace and refuge now are found,
In this new world I am unbound.
No xenophobes or flags or borders,
No soldiers acting under orders.
Released from all the pain and fear.
Words and talk, all insincere.
For As the sun shines overhead,
My body lies here cold and dead.
A Dead Child’s Plea
Inspired by the death of Aylan Kurdi a 3 year old Syrian boy
Shame on you for killing me,
An innocent child, only 3,
Fleeing war; a refugee.
Now I lay upon the sand,
Escaped from war that blights my land;
I wanted just a helping hand.
My family around me lie,
No time for us to say goodbye,
Abandoned to the sea to die.
Because of lines on maps and coloured flags,
I now fill a body bag,
Choked on water, drowned and gagged.
Running scared, afraid in fear,
The victim of a profiteer,
A world wrapped up with borders and frontiers.
My now dead unseeing eyes,
Look up into an empty sky,
No gods were there to give reply.
My family sought to find escape,
The savages of war and rape,
Our ravaged lives to rebuild, remake.
Our country torn and ripped asunder,
Roaring guns, the sound of thunder,
Our homes the spoil of pillage and plunder.
We wanted only to find shelter,
Walked for days in burning swelter,
Embarking on tumultuous welter.
But we found not reprieve or quarter,
Disgorged into the boiling water,
Numbers added to the slaughter.
My body lies now bloated, limp and cold,
A tragedy that you behold,
Of suffering and grief untold.
The waves that lap upon my corpse,
Should fill you with a dark remorse,
Compel you to another course.
– Matthew Wright
Tireless I walk, planting footprints in the dunes of waste and debris, leaving behind the dust I once knew and loved.
Home is a mythical beast, like a secret it is hard to seek, but once found it will give greater joy than simple affections as love.
Time passes but the ache in the wound of change still pains. Haunted by the ghosts of memories, by past dreams and futures lost.
Still the sun shines and we can dance with laughter and music telling stories.
New faces, new words, new places. Offering fresh choices, new futures.
– Yosef Berg
Refugees are often those who are forced into taking flight
Leaving family, friends, and the place that they know as home
to show care and understanding to those who experience this plight
Is to fulfil in word and action the love of God and of our neighbour too
– Ernest Brady
Earthquake, floods, war, homes trashed, ethnic cleansing
I had to leave, my life was in danger
Don’t know what happened to my family
No belongings, only the clothes I wear
Everything strange, many days wandering
Weak, thirsty, have to ward off the hunger
Life is not easy as a refugee
Many authorities don’t seem to care
There’s no compassion for my suffering
Some people consider me a scrounger
Surely I’ve a right a live in safety
Close to giving up, more than I can bear
Have to continue, keep persevering
Don’t understand language, a foreigner
Not here for cash handouts, getting things free
Have no money, can’t afford travel fare
A few charities help me with living
Help me with forms, care, get things in order
Appreciate, treat me with dignity
I now have hope, life, no longer despair
– Dan Lu Pun
Who is the Refugee?
When we look to our shores lined with small flimsy boats full of war weary people cast in fake life floats
Perilously suspended on a merciless sea facing a nations hand palm up, don’t come near me
As sharp as a slap but oh so much worse silent, still and cruel a gestural hearse
Can we ever again enjoy sweet-salty sea air when from it’s lips we rejected our brother without care
When we look to our past to our colonial greed to our presumption of improvement education, order and breed
When the imperial inheritance is dependence on aid ethnic, politicalschism and unfair trade
When the rains have gone left their land in cracks fuelled by our industry born of their broken backs
Can we ever sleep peacefully in our soft feathered beds when our unpaid comfort flows from their bleeding heads?
When we look to our hearts can we actually see it is no longer one but broken in three
Caught with fear, hung with shame beating but empty of His unifying name
That calls us to oneness to listen to the truth that the earth is one country not divided, or aloof
Who is the refugee? the one who lost his home? or the one who lost his heart? In desolation left to roam.
Our cosiest words get mangled
And thrown out as trash when
Launched at people needing the homeliness most.