The writer from everywhere and anywhere is interested in human rights issues. The writer wants to foster the whole world. Some of the writings apppeared in countercurrents.org, conterview.org, counterview.net, velivada.com, dissidentvoice.org, tuckmagazine.com, poemHunter.com , virasam.org, etc.
Don't leave me
To the vultures!
Come beside me
And comfort me ...
Cajole my body
Don't let anybody
They really hurt me ...
The dressed monsters
The nurses...the doctors....
They pierced my thighs
Peered into my eyes ....
Squeezing my hips
Shut my squeaking lips ....
I shuddered shivered
I was totally terrified..!
They are worse than snakes , mummy!
Spewed venom on my little tummy!
You said I am sick and they would cure me ...
I am worse here.... See the marks of torture, see!
Take me back home mummy ....
I' m afraid ...no one looks here chummy!
Cure me at home ...this hospital is filthy
Medicate me to become healthy!
( Indian police investigate alleged gang rape of girl in hospital....www.news.com.au )
(Girl, 4, ' is gang raped in India by nurse and four others ' as she lay in an intensive care unit being treated for snake bite... Dailymail.com.uk )
Chains of insanity
Where an abode of education
Becomes a terror- stricken location,
What more can prevail except barbarism
And mindless bigotry and fanaticism ...?
The cowards have no strength to fight
The mighty imperialist State
They pounce on women and little children
To exhibit their power and domination ....
Their hue and cry of patriotism, nationalism
And allegiance to islamic fundamentalism
Is nothing but spreading sham anarchism
Attracting from the world, severe criticism
They have lost the tenets of humanity -
The basic teachings of any religiosity -
They cannot win people' s confidence
By perpetrating continuous violence
( More than 80 people, mostly children kidnapped from school in Cameron ...
Www.africannews.com , November 5, 2018)
Nature is beautiful
With various forms of life
With myriad scenes colorful
And resources rife...
But nature is dreadful
When tornado or torpedoes strike
Or cyclones and storms terrible
Devastate land and life alike ...
Enjoy it's beauty
Acknowledge it's fury
Nature can bring Ecstasy
And also severe calamity
Weeks, months and years change
But struggles continue ....
Despite consistent repression
Arrests and incarceration
Protests and rallies continue ...
Amidst floods and droughts
Cyclones, storms and quakes
Battles for survival continue ....
Even if losses are numerous
And wins are sparse
Hopes for better future continue
To propel human beings
To march forward
With renewed vigor
And new resolutions
Pause for a moment
Celebrations have begun
To usher in another January one ...
Expecting something new
Abundance of joys and sorrows few
The world marches forward
Leaving history backward ...
Pause for a moment ...
Look at your surroundings with intent ...
Not all is well on the planet
There's pollution and change in climate
Children are dying of disease and hunger
Protests are rising with discontent and anger
Innocents are languishing in sub - human conditions in jails
Activists are being roughed up and denied bails ...
Time is not ripe to fully celebrate
Still there are many evils present and need to annihilate
Let the world become safer to live and tolerate
Then festivities could be enjoyed without controversy or debate
Lorraine Whelan is a Canadian writer and visual artist based in Ireland. Her published writing takes the form of poetry, memoir & fiction (USA, Ireland, Canada & online) and art criticism & commentary (Ireland, Luxembourg & online). Her writing has been published or is forthcoming in New Irish Writing, Canadian Author & Bookman, The Examined Life, Cyphers, The Salmon, Tales from the Forest, CIRCA, Abstract, and others. As a visual artist, Whelan has exhibited internationally and her artwork is included in public, corporate and private collections in Ireland, Canada, USA, UK, Belgium & Australia.
Thingvellir at Night
I gaze into the dark expanse,
the deepness of time.
The night is cold, bitter,
but I stand solid
at the meeting of plates.
Tectonic land masses beneath my feet
more sturdy than my shifting
yet young in comparison
to the sharp specks of light above.
The Milky Way curves a clear path
but there are no Northern Lights tonight.
The silence is palpable.
The glittering show beyond expectation.
I blink in the frost, my eyes water
and the stars rearrange themselves in the sky.
In a dream I see
the rainbow rings of Saturn
burst in a shower of colour
as the planet explodes
before my eyes
and then this evening
with a telescope and you
from the roof garden
I watch four satellites
embrace cold Jupiter
as the full moon dances
over Dublin city sky.
you are beautiful
at night by the sea
you stand tall but shiver slightly
with the sharp wind of an oncoming storm
dark strands of hair surround your face
that glows whiter than the full moon
eyes like black craters gaze
over the waves
as they churn and dash among the rocks
close to the shore below us
I watch in awe
you are a dream
and I must wake
in another land
Marcia J. Pradzinski, an award-winning poet, lives in Skokie, Illinois. Her poems have been featured in print journals, anthologies, and online. Recent and forthcoming publications include Redheaded Stepchild, Clementine Unbound, Your Daily Poem, and Ink In Thirds. Finishing Line Press published her chapbook, Left Behind in 2015. She credits Plumb Line Poets, her cadre of fellow poets, for helping her stay productive. When not reading or writing, she enjoys water aerobics, qigong, walking, and going to movies.
An Accordion of Days
Sunlight creeps in without warning,
bleaches my dreams and tosses them
skyward where emptiness guards
the space I need to move, to think.
No shadows follow me there, I fuse
with the face and open breath of time.
Silence surrounds and consoles until I hear
a blue jay shrieking. Life
scrapes its way in –
an awakening like this won't hold.
How Did You Get This Number?