Arising From The Ashes
October
#094
Subiendo De Las Cenizas Con Los Standing Rock Sioux
Cuando un día donde la lluvia cae en la Madre de la Tierra
En el Día Nacional de los Indígenas en un gran amor
Saludos del corazón a las hojas que caen en la agua de tu alma Lago Oahe
Hojas secas del otoño
El sono de justicia es silencio
No quiero continuar de los raices y de la tumba
Abuso policial, hambre y saludo pobre con el orden de los nazistas
La paz te llama también porque regreso a luchar para justicia para la tierra sagrada siempre
Nuestra tierra debajo de las corporaciones porque la agua es la vida
Y no es propiedad en frente de los enemigos
Y porque el amor combate sobre la rosa
Juntos nosotros volamos sobre el mundo en solidaridad con nuestros hermanos
Sin el Dakota Access Pipeline y que jamás se van a reunir con la tierra
Y la Guerra indígena no paró porque no hay justicia
Arising From The Ashes With The Standing Rock Sioux
When a day where the rain falls on Mother Earth
In the National Day of Indigenous Peoples in a great love
Greetings from the heart to the leaves that fall into the water of Lake Oahe of your soul
Of dry autumn leaves
The sound of justice is silence
I do not want to continue out of the roots and the tomb:
police abuse, hunger and poor health with the order of the Nazis
Peace also calls you because I return to fight for justice for the sacred land always
Our land is under corporations
Because water is life
And not property in front of the enemy
And because love is fighting on the rose
Together we fly over the world in solidarity with our sisters and brothers
Without the Dakota Access Pipeline and never it will meet with the land
And the Indian War did not stop because there is no justice
© Carlos Raúl Dufflar 10-10-16
The Bread is Rising Poetry Collective
Rising Up From The Ashes (to Jayuya ↔ infinity)
Stunned by so much at once, it may seem
There is yet the need for a gentle reminder
That this horror, too, must disappear
Where the politics of pain inflict envy
We must warn of coming storms
And we, in this struggle,
commemorate
and celebrate
Every moment
of
rising
Up
from
the
ashes
© Ángel L. Martínez 31 oct 16
The Bread is Rising Poetry Collective
Haseya (She Rises Up)
My chant for today draws my awareness up to the sky. I look up to see the universe looking back at me. We smile at each other and I remember I really am never alone.
I take a deep breath feel the oxygen charging my blood, my cells, my spinal chord with energy.
I release the breath slowly, purposefully, safely. I gently blow away the tension, fear, worry and pain, knowing that the universe can handle it, will take care of it, will cherish it, accept and welcome it as the offering of my faith and trust.
My next breath pulls in love. Unconditional, nurturing, pure and healing love. My out breath returns and recycles love upwards, outwards and downwards. The energy of love and light expands from me and radiates out through me. I am aware of my self, my heart, my mind. I feel my soul reaching up to God, easily, delighting in stretching into the warmth of acceptance and acknowledgment.
The clouds have gone and I am filled with warm golden light, peach and apricot skies form the skyskape backdrop to burnished copper and crimson trees with puddles of molten gold at the foot of each and every one.
The sounds flow from my tingling lips, peaceful joy in the repetiton, as automatic and unconscious as the pulse in my wrist. When I concentrate on the words, they feel strange, alien. I am singing fluently in a language I can not speak.
My thoughts are like smoke, my body is just the flame, burning brightly, steadily, creating shadows around me. Shadows that feel threatening but that I am creating myself. They dance with me - repeating patterns until I learn to see beyond them, see how they are just a reflection of myself. When I reach out to my shadows to bring them into the warmth and light, they recoil from me, even though they can't exist without me. They are my personal backdrop, the sky to my tree, my experience of being and in this moment, this life, we are one.
Inspired by the album 'Haseya' by Ajeet Kaur
Ashley Jordan
GROW
Apples From The Ashes
The great storm which tore down so many of our trees in, was it 1987?
I went out early and was so sad as I started taking photographs to remind me for ever of how powerful that storm had been.
All those pictures remain in a single album to remind me of the terrible loss of trees and other structural damage.
Walking to Fairlight was a matter of climbing over the trunks of so many fallen trees.
The sea was still boiling and flinging up waves of over 30 feet and the noise was deafening: I thought it could never return to normal.
Our last tree of a certain and rare apple fell and died here that day.
This was here in Hastings and little was reported of this great loss at that time because there was so much more seemingly greater loss.
This apple was to rise again from these ashes.
A cutting was taken from the dead tree and taken to the great
Brogdale Farm in Faversham, Kent (so I am told)
This rare apple was saved and a new tree was made to re live.
If this can be done in so great a time of loss, then it can be done now.
As the value of the pound sterling continues to drop, we will see the price of petrol and all other related petrochemicals go up.
Who stood to gain at our loss? Did we really vote for this outcome or were we influenced by those who now reap these gains?
Nursing homes are now closing at a greater rate than ever, due to lack of funding.
The Euro is trending to be higher than the £ sterling. We were fully warned but we chose to keep the power to trade within our country.
20% loss and decline in the value of our pound as of today in relation to the US $. I wonder who gained in the USA? I wonder who owns the Sun and The Times?
We can, must and will rise again just like our single apple, but it will take more than a tree graft to achieve our recovery.
First of all we must stop foreign organisations taking over our companies with multi million pension funds to take; by re selling our future. To those who wish to take all we have worked for, we should have more control, and simply say: “On your bike”.
With Best Wishes,
David King
A Bag Is For Life!
A BAG IS FOR LIFE!
The posters scream
Meat, raw and bloody
Falls from re used carriers
Thin with over use
Onto the wet car park
A BAG IS FOR LIFE!
Buy one today!
Screams the sign
By the check out till
As it eats up the pounds
From overloaded trolleys
A BAG IS FOR LIFE!
Made of sackcloth and ashes
Why ashes? The remnants of life
Because today, I saw,
Image’s of the Bosnian war;
Body upon body, upon body
Buried in plastic bags;
And I wanted to scream,
A BAG IS FOR LIFE!
Footnote; this poem was inspired by images from the Bosnian war, taken By Giles Penfound. The images I saw affected me deeply.
Jan Hedger
WOW
Rising from the Ashes
How many lives do we have,
one more I'm hoping, for my nephew,
who wonder of wonders, has stopped
smoking. I mean completely,
not meekly turning to the electro cig,
or biting his fingernails to the quick;
he' s richer for it, 25 smackers
in the pocket, prouder too
kissing goodbye to his addiction.
Bruce Barnes
Phoenix
It is worth a mention here that Phoenix/Phenix …Latin from ancient Greek
Is a mythical story about a fantastic bird of brilliant colour which lived for endless ages and was burnt and rose again from the ashes.
Now you read it here first my friends: we here in GB are as a Phoenix and could rise from our Brexit ashes if we are lucky.
It will take a great deal of luck and good management.
Those who voted us out may well now wonder why. Some did it as a protest vote against the government and the establishment, but now if you ask them, they seem not to be too clear. Some thought it would stop unwanted immigration, however, if you drive to Hastings via Dover at 3 am, you will soon see the result on the M20.
Most high ranking police officers are tucked up warm in bed at this early hour and they just can’t all be on duty 24/7: there are simply not enough of them. That’s why we are unable to stop unwanted visitors to our shores. Now we have the main cause of the brexit vote being seen as not working.
We can rise from the ashes, but there is a drop in the value of the £ sterling in relation to the American $. The lowest in over 30 years as of today 4/10/16
The Euro is predicted to reach exchange problems soon which will result in the Euro costing us more quite soon.
We have to pose the question of who stood to gain a fortune when they got us to vote to leave.
I note with interest that the big newspaper owners promoted brexit. Any American link here?
They now consider that they can change our government by whom they support in the popular press.
This means that we can be made to vote the way they wish us to vote, in order to promote their own agendas.
It seems that our great public would rather let the tabloids think for us and decide for us too!
Why is no one asking just who made the greatest financial gains by our voting to leave?
Yes we CAN rise from the ashes again, however, this seems to be the result of unintended consequences.
We will see this in more trade from overseas because our products will cost less now.
Tourism should now increase from this month and peaking by next summer, so we must be ready for this.
However, Paris, announced today that they hope to take over much of our banking business in the city of London.
Now I pose the question: just who stood to gain financially from all this. Newspaper owners?
Best wishes,
David King
Cremation
I’ve always believed in cremation;
Flames bleach the world, unclutter living things.
Let scum survivors, grasshoppers
Leave cemeteries a mess
Of living impulses dismembered.
Not knowing fire’s totality
But sickly honouring it stunting
In tortured carbon stench.
I’ve always believed in cremation
Ever since I read of great skull mountains;
Those potash handfuls are so clean –
A powdered love of life.
I think of bones and masonry,
Of skeletons and architects.
Humanity’s erections;
Are we the greater polyps?
No – we are parasites.
No longer do we draw from deserts
Our pride’s stark affirmation
But – aimless – puncture, scar and crater
Real skin, flesh, sinew, bone.
Prime tombs remain, aimed starwards,
Steering earth;
For ones they were, for everyone.
Termite-wretches, harsh-bound inside one frame
With all for others.
So is this past? Are we now free –
With monuments so empty, blinded to stars,
Time-choked, chasing a mercury present –
That wriggling lump we would congeal
To parry our mortality –
Reassured joke, bluff, never using
By thinking of dismantling
When Fury, justly channeled,
Skims from eccentric earth?
The first was built to say
“We stand forever, cleaving heaven and earth.”
The last: “We can accept the moment only;
When all’s affirmed, we are as powder.”
I’ve always believed in cremation.
David Russell
Destruction left in “The Rising From The Ashes
Pulling up out leaving the ashes dust
Broken teeth broken heart burned out
Magnet draging back into the pocket seams
Dreams distracted in the destruction burning
Tracks turning back nothing worthwhile clouds
Scars and shame down in the middle 🔥fire
Rising up from the burned out ashes
Destruction left in ‘The Rising From The Ashes”
John Joseph Sheehy
Lifting The Rising From Ashes
Destruction lives down in the ashes
Shamed in the scars below in the fires
in the myth of Jove’s left overs
When soul cries in intense heat
The devil said Thank God I found you here
Destruction lives in the broken ashes
The poets search deep in the heart
Lifting and rising from the ashes.
John Joseph Sheehy