Author Archives: Clive - Dailychange.co.uk
Washed ashore
Use technology to aid humanity…. If you have an iPhone, bloody do something useful with it!
Winston Churchill : The Butcher of Bengal –Game of Death (1943 and other man-made Bengal Famines or Genocides?)
Those that win, teach their history to the masses.
“Beastly Indians and so their faith, I fondly despise, why they breed like rabbits, let them die “
Churchill! The savior from Führer, or Führer yourself, with, no love lost for a wretched colony
With hunger borne to an unborn child, on scorched Bengal’s soul, your words worse than felony
As bodies pile high, to grab your eye, to your least concern, you discern, “let sleeping dogs lie”
1943-Sixth famine & deceit too, albeit this one, last fest of yearn, a regime’s reward In lieu of due tolls
Alas, Rain Gods failed, the peasants’ plight, life meanly caricatured by eternal cries of hunger’s blight
This ain’t any more that old reign benign, where clemency would determine, griefs and tolls to overwrite
Unwary souls, their fates changed hands, bonded British belongings now, sentenced to doom, with no paroles
“Rice ain’t nice for our coffers to fly; p for poppy, i for…
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Resistance
- What does it mean to resist? When our head interferes with our heart, in our art, when our flow is interrupted, when there is disruption in our receptivity, we are resisting.
- Writing itself is resistance.
- I went to Barefoot College in Tilonia, one of the poorest villages in rural India. I saw puppets educating elders on matters of social justice and musicians educating children on social change.
- A kathak dancer, Mallika Sarabhai goes to villages all over India. She educates women on menstrual hygiene through theatre.
- I vomited on stage, an Aftertaste of my coming to America. It was a play about the international experience.
- When I was seven, I wrote an angry letter to my grandfather when he wouldn’t listen. We cannot talk back, we need to respect our elders my culture says. I scrunched my letter into a ball and threw it at him. He threw it out…
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To Be Loved
An inner need for recognition,
Acknowledgement, identity,
To be held unconditionally,
Without ulterior motive, nor cynicism,
For hugs whenever, whatever,
Not simply because I ask, or am sad,
To look into the soul of another and see truth,
Words are just a jigsaw of letters,
Their picture painted by the poet,
Stories, tales, lies, excuses, untruths,
Only tales of fun, laughter, stories of excitement,
Of adventures had, and plans for more,
It isn’t possible to paint love,
To make love,
Only to have love, give love and receive love,
That undeniable, unsustainable, inexplicable need,
For one person, for one chance, for that one love,
Fear not love, embrace it,
Fear not rejection, reflection, resentment or displacement,
The heart mends with love,
It sings with love,
It is, to be loved……
and for everyone who expected a rhyming little ditty…..
To be love, my one passion,
To give away my heart,
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Fear & Anger… Or Courage & Love
So true..
I can’t be angry without first being afraid & there are no exceptions to this Law of Life.
If my girl leaves me & I get mad… it’s because I’m afraid of being alone.
If someone steals from me & I get mad… it’s because I’m afraid of running out of money.
If someone speaks poorly of me or disrespects me & I get mad… it’s because I’m afraid of what people think of me.
The goal for today: know that anger goes away, when I spot, admit & correct the fear that caused it!
Have a great day everybody!
The Sociological Poetry & Arts Foundation 