David Gould
New Member
One of my roles is a poet for peace...reminded that i had not posted for a while I thought I would share a few of these poems one of which was read at a MAP fundraising event in London (UK)...one or two of these might need an explanation but the basic thing is that I lost my step daughter in the London Bombings...but spoke up for Muslims thereafter have found that the Qur'an which I have now read seven times is not about violence but about peace...salaam.
The Tears of Gaza
No one had the right to destroy this...
Palestine has been burnt into all our souls
the suffering has shown us all who prevailed
and until we learn to love our fellow humans
this anguished cry still rings out. "Palestine!"
Cried from the children, from all 400 that died
till all the world is filled with this cry
for a people that refused to roll over and die.
David © January 2009
Palestinian Elegy
Who will sound the requiem
to mark this grieving throng?
Who will write the epitaphs
in this brief historic hour?
Who will grieve the children
slaughtered for no just cause?
And who will bear the coffins
to the burial’s weeping ground?
Whose ululation do we hear
and whose plaint will be heard,
when all is set in epic verse,
anthologies composed of tears?
And whose elegy can we recite
when more are killed each night?
So tell us now why did they die
for no just cause or reason why?
Why is it the innocent
that pay the terrible price?
In all your adult wars,
why is it the children
that seem to perish first?
It is always their little faces
peeping from tiny shrouds
that break our brittle hearts.
So who will sound their requiem,
or write blood stained epitaphs?
Who then can write an elegy,
to honour so many little graves?
There is no shortage of weeping
over each of these little ones.
This world is so impoverished
for its future killed too soon.
David © 8th November 2008
Dead Angels
Their little faces stare back at us
expressionless, devoid of living,
dead, innocent frozen featured
shocked from their youthful lives
awaiting in shrouds for the earth.
Five more dead and frozen Angels
are absorbed into the alien soil,
still, quietly devoid of life itself.
“But they were not the target!”
So I suppose that is alright is it?
We note the words “Precision, Surgical.”
We note you were trying to avoid civilians.
That is what they all say, these bringers of war,
while endless rows of coffins fill our screens,
including these five little dead angels.
It makes no difference who made these bombs,
or for what cause they were aimed at earth,
an explosion wears no national flag, nor votes
for any particular party: once dropped it ends
the lives of all in its path, including these angels.
You never knew your killer, he wears
the flag of every nation known to man
and for his deeds he will be decorated
while Jawaher, Dina, Samar, Ikram and Tahrir
will forever be these five dead angels to me.
(five sisters crushed to death when a Mosque wall
collapsed during a bombing raid on Gaza. December 2008)
David © 30th December 2008
The Tears of Gaza
No one had the right to destroy this...
Palestine has been burnt into all our souls
the suffering has shown us all who prevailed
and until we learn to love our fellow humans
this anguished cry still rings out. "Palestine!"
Cried from the children, from all 400 that died
till all the world is filled with this cry
for a people that refused to roll over and die.
David © January 2009
Palestinian Elegy
Who will sound the requiem
to mark this grieving throng?
Who will write the epitaphs
in this brief historic hour?
Who will grieve the children
slaughtered for no just cause?
And who will bear the coffins
to the burial’s weeping ground?
Whose ululation do we hear
and whose plaint will be heard,
when all is set in epic verse,
anthologies composed of tears?
And whose elegy can we recite
when more are killed each night?
So tell us now why did they die
for no just cause or reason why?
Why is it the innocent
that pay the terrible price?
In all your adult wars,
why is it the children
that seem to perish first?
It is always their little faces
peeping from tiny shrouds
that break our brittle hearts.
So who will sound their requiem,
or write blood stained epitaphs?
Who then can write an elegy,
to honour so many little graves?
There is no shortage of weeping
over each of these little ones.
This world is so impoverished
for its future killed too soon.
David © 8th November 2008
Dead Angels
Their little faces stare back at us
expressionless, devoid of living,
dead, innocent frozen featured
shocked from their youthful lives
awaiting in shrouds for the earth.
Five more dead and frozen Angels
are absorbed into the alien soil,
still, quietly devoid of life itself.
“But they were not the target!”
So I suppose that is alright is it?
We note the words “Precision, Surgical.”
We note you were trying to avoid civilians.
That is what they all say, these bringers of war,
while endless rows of coffins fill our screens,
including these five little dead angels.
It makes no difference who made these bombs,
or for what cause they were aimed at earth,
an explosion wears no national flag, nor votes
for any particular party: once dropped it ends
the lives of all in its path, including these angels.
You never knew your killer, he wears
the flag of every nation known to man
and for his deeds he will be decorated
while Jawaher, Dina, Samar, Ikram and Tahrir
will forever be these five dead angels to me.
(five sisters crushed to death when a Mosque wall
collapsed during a bombing raid on Gaza. December 2008)
David © 30th December 2008
