Villanelle works; may it haunt the future, if this were to come about. Not all the concrete in all the world will wipe away the sin. Pray there will be olive groves again on whatever thin un-poisoned
soil might be spread and that there will be sandcastles on the beach again and peace to stroll the garden streets at evening.
Yep, and how many bodies will be found as the rubble gets cleared; I find the whole thing unthinkable - yet confronted with it, writing about it is part of how I process it all.
The account from MSF staff in the last few days returning with the 100s of thousands to provide some kind of medical provision in North Gaza is unthinkable.
Pain is wiped away, ignored in the media, and financed by the West, which thinks itself a moral instance. The horrific reality comes knocking at our doors.
Thank you for the comment. Fortunately my wife grew up with Arabic (as well as German and English) and I see she has already replied. She grew up on the West Bank in the 1950s/60s. Peace would be a fine thing these days in many parts of the world, but Gaza kind of mesmerises you, for ever on the brink of 'this can't be happening, not in my lifetime, surely'.
My father (96) grew up with ‘Wir haben es nicht gewüsst’. But at least a lot of people did, and did nothing. I (64) grew up watching the 8 o’clock news on Vietnam, and every night we saw the carpet bombing and Agent Orange. ‘The public’ knew and was fed up with it. I had a dream that a moral public view might prevent future massacres and immoral actions of politicians and soldiers. But I was young (…). Today my son (28) grows up with live-streams of a genocide. And laughing sadistic soldiers on Instagram have become mainstream. Without any shame, or moral questions asked. And history is rewritten with ‘alternative facts’. Just like in #1984 #orwell. And reality is morphed via algorithms of Big Tech. The bottom of the Dead Sea, and probably the whole Atlantic’, is piled up with broken moral compasses.
Thank you for the insights. I (68) grew up in the shadow of two world wars, and with the understanding that after the horrors and sacrifices, 'we all rise together to create a better world'. Thatcher/Reagan smashed that in the 1980s, and during the last 40 years I have witnessed the downhill slide. Orwell's "1984" and Huxley's "Brave New World" were compulsory reading when I was at school.
I'm not sure what effect 'we the people' can actually have to stop the descent into violence - two million marching against the Iraq war in 2003 did nothing to stop it, despite there being no WMD.
We moved from U.K to Portugal some years back, and put our efforts into building resilient community connected with the land, become more self-sufficient - something 'The System' hates of course. What more can one do?
Will this crazy, unethical and lawless plan to turn Gaza into a resort for the wealthy become a reality? Yes, it's entirely possible in a world ruled by domination, competition, violence and wars. And no justice.
This potentiality in the scheme of possibilities will hopefully be the impetus for every single one of us to contribute to the collective voice of — enough!
Well said Josh. To the bone of the hip. We know the real story. One day as Darwish wrote- a moon will rise from this darkness. Poetry is spiritual medicine. Keep writing. We need you. 🙏❤️
Thank you, Jamie. "A moon will rise from this darkness" - I like that. I actually wrote this poem in November last year before Trump took office, but I recollect the 'Gaza Real Estate' idea being spouted by someone else on the Trump team - which is what of course drove me to put pen to paper. And thank you for the note (being very untechie, I haven't quite got my head around 'Notes' yet).
I think that's very true. Naming 'the worst' somehow 'tames' it within our psyche - and then we can deal with it better - we can act, rather and re-act.
Yes, it is too much and no, it is impossible to skip...
Wherever we turn, in this age of peril we live in, it is all too much.
We trash the earth too much, plunder the seas too much, pollute the skies too much and as perfidious are the human genocides we engage in, far more chilling are the genocides against the non-human living world we carry out in the name of progress.
Gaza is a haunting, horrifying wound for sure, but there is so much more sepsis in humanity's heart and soul.. I know despair is paralysing and unhelpful but these days I seem to be mired in it. Thank you for writing Joshua.
Thank you for your thoughtful comment, Jayasree. I have written a poem on despair, very much my own life-journey, along with grief, and have been wondering whether to post it or not.
In these days of 'toxic positivity' I believe we need to make friends with, spend time with, and honour all of our subjective experiences, whether we label them as 'negative' or 'positive'. Indeed, when looked at together as "one-thing", like Yin & Yang, deeper understanding can help us transcend both.
And so with your comment, and Shelley's too, perhaps I will post my 'despair' poem next time round - it's a kind of a companion poem to the one of grief ("Grief Tunnel").
I have spent large chunks of my adult life (I’m 63) going through, struggling against and trying to make my peace with episodes of depression. While I see that this condition has something of a biological basis, I also know that my journey is rooted in the dissonance of trying to make sense of a world that, to use the words in your poem, seems “too much.”
A few days ago I wrote this poem as an attempt to process my current state of gut-wrenched paralysis:
Villanelle works; may it haunt the future, if this were to come about. Not all the concrete in all the world will wipe away the sin. Pray there will be olive groves again on whatever thin un-poisoned
soil might be spread and that there will be sandcastles on the beach again and peace to stroll the garden streets at evening.
Yep, and how many bodies will be found as the rubble gets cleared; I find the whole thing unthinkable - yet confronted with it, writing about it is part of how I process it all.
The account from MSF staff in the last few days returning with the 100s of thousands to provide some kind of medical provision in North Gaza is unthinkable.
Old Wars lost to Memory
Horror fades
and with it our dignity.
Bright lights dazzle the
victory parade.
Old films are coloured,
re-rendered from black-and-white.
Grey faces becoming flesh,
Insects in amber, frozen in time.
These are our captured moments,
brittle facts caught in the mind.
Awash as photographs developing
in chemicals that form and fade.
These jagged feelings,
remembering impersonal terrors,
that steal our oxygen,
cannot remain.
So we stand
outside the window looking in.
Waiting for the train, or the plane,
that will take us away.
Well put, thank you, that's how one feels when confronted with such a situation.
Thanks - loved your poem. So upset about Ukraine. Had wonderful pupils from Ukraine in my school last year - brave souls. Deeply upsets me.
Pain is wiped away, ignored in the media, and financed by the West, which thinks itself a moral instance. The horrific reality comes knocking at our doors.
Yes, and living through this time helps me understand my parents and grandparents better, who lived through one or both of the two world wars.
ٱلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ,
Thank you for the comment. Fortunately my wife grew up with Arabic (as well as German and English) and I see she has already replied. She grew up on the West Bank in the 1950s/60s. Peace would be a fine thing these days in many parts of the world, but Gaza kind of mesmerises you, for ever on the brink of 'this can't be happening, not in my lifetime, surely'.
My father (96) grew up with ‘Wir haben es nicht gewüsst’. But at least a lot of people did, and did nothing. I (64) grew up watching the 8 o’clock news on Vietnam, and every night we saw the carpet bombing and Agent Orange. ‘The public’ knew and was fed up with it. I had a dream that a moral public view might prevent future massacres and immoral actions of politicians and soldiers. But I was young (…). Today my son (28) grows up with live-streams of a genocide. And laughing sadistic soldiers on Instagram have become mainstream. Without any shame, or moral questions asked. And history is rewritten with ‘alternative facts’. Just like in #1984 #orwell. And reality is morphed via algorithms of Big Tech. The bottom of the Dead Sea, and probably the whole Atlantic’, is piled up with broken moral compasses.
I had a dream(…)
Thank you for the insights. I (68) grew up in the shadow of two world wars, and with the understanding that after the horrors and sacrifices, 'we all rise together to create a better world'. Thatcher/Reagan smashed that in the 1980s, and during the last 40 years I have witnessed the downhill slide. Orwell's "1984" and Huxley's "Brave New World" were compulsory reading when I was at school.
I'm not sure what effect 'we the people' can actually have to stop the descent into violence - two million marching against the Iraq war in 2003 did nothing to stop it, despite there being no WMD.
We moved from U.K to Portugal some years back, and put our efforts into building resilient community connected with the land, become more self-sufficient - something 'The System' hates of course. What more can one do?
انشاءالله
Will this crazy, unethical and lawless plan to turn Gaza into a resort for the wealthy become a reality? Yes, it's entirely possible in a world ruled by domination, competition, violence and wars. And no justice.
Unfortunately, anything (bad) is possible these days, and it takes 'bad' to new depths.
Wow, incredibly powerful piece.
Thank you.
This potentiality in the scheme of possibilities will hopefully be the impetus for every single one of us to contribute to the collective voice of — enough!
I hope so to. Psychos push and push and push until someone/'we-the-people' pushes back.
Well said Josh. To the bone of the hip. We know the real story. One day as Darwish wrote- a moon will rise from this darkness. Poetry is spiritual medicine. Keep writing. We need you. 🙏❤️
Thank you, Jamie. "A moon will rise from this darkness" - I like that. I actually wrote this poem in November last year before Trump took office, but I recollect the 'Gaza Real Estate' idea being spouted by someone else on the Trump team - which is what of course drove me to put pen to paper. And thank you for the note (being very untechie, I haven't quite got my head around 'Notes' yet).
Phew, creepy how close this has come to a potential reality... given the time this poem was written...
Yes, better be careful what I write in future - though I do remember someone on the Trump team spouting some such sentiments back in November.
You speak truth!!
Thank you. I do hope it doesn't come true but these days such an outcome is a distinct possibility.
Sometimes creative courage means imagining and expressing the worst so we can say a firm "No, not on my watch."
I think that's very true. Naming 'the worst' somehow 'tames' it within our psyche - and then we can deal with it better - we can act, rather and re-act.
Yes, it is too much and no, it is impossible to skip...
Wherever we turn, in this age of peril we live in, it is all too much.
We trash the earth too much, plunder the seas too much, pollute the skies too much and as perfidious are the human genocides we engage in, far more chilling are the genocides against the non-human living world we carry out in the name of progress.
Gaza is a haunting, horrifying wound for sure, but there is so much more sepsis in humanity's heart and soul.. I know despair is paralysing and unhelpful but these days I seem to be mired in it. Thank you for writing Joshua.
Thank you for your thoughtful comment, Jayasree. I have written a poem on despair, very much my own life-journey, along with grief, and have been wondering whether to post it or not.
In these days of 'toxic positivity' I believe we need to make friends with, spend time with, and honour all of our subjective experiences, whether we label them as 'negative' or 'positive'. Indeed, when looked at together as "one-thing", like Yin & Yang, deeper understanding can help us transcend both.
And so with your comment, and Shelley's too, perhaps I will post my 'despair' poem next time round - it's a kind of a companion poem to the one of grief ("Grief Tunnel").
I have spent large chunks of my adult life (I’m 63) going through, struggling against and trying to make my peace with episodes of depression. While I see that this condition has something of a biological basis, I also know that my journey is rooted in the dissonance of trying to make sense of a world that, to use the words in your poem, seems “too much.”
A few days ago I wrote this poem as an attempt to process my current state of gut-wrenched paralysis:
https://jayasreesrivastava.substack.com/p/endless-unfolding