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Sunday, 29 August 2010

Star-crossed with chains.

We’re bound by this link
Two souls forming as one
Hearts beating in sync
Our love deviant like the rising sun
We’re gifted with knowledge
Tortured by bittersweet fate
Our feelings we acknowledge
Laid out like fresh bait
We’re pawns to this intimate game
Beckoning, consuming our minds
Powerful source with no name
That slowly drinks up our time
No fresh blade can cut these chains
Their marks will be etched onto our skins
Poison running freely into our veins
We may forget, and move on,
But in the end there is no real win

By Ambia Khatun

Saturday, 21 August 2010

Panic

What danger lurks within emotions of the human heart...

So fragile, so easy to pull apart

These profound emotions find no rest

They Pulsate mercilessly against the chest

Disturbing the sleep with their rhythmic blows

Flooding the mind with thoughts overflowed

They reside in the heart, to the world,unknown

Emotionally overpopulated chamber, ready to implode

No more escape through imaginary seduction

Reality is here to devastate your fictitious conception

Mental stability is now in critical condition.

Breathe.

By Zibz Hilwa, Talented Poet and Photographer


Sunday, 15 August 2010

Rebellion I Am

Rebellion, I am.
Executioner of the orders.
Indiscriminately firing my words like fatal bullets,
Puncturing the rims of your authority;
inflicting you with agony.
Hear my gun shots loud and clear,
Let them echo in the caves of your ear.

I carry with me an intense heat
Burning like a fire;
fueling this rebellious desire.
The sparks entice me,
with their luminous glow.
The blaze ignites upon your every attempt of control.

I oppose you with a passion
A passion so dire;
It tenses my muscles,
protrudes my veins,
blurs my sight,
heaves my emotions;
for I am only capable of frustration in the face of hopelessness.

They regard it a loss of sanity-

this rebellion,
rebellion I am.

By the talented photographer and poet Zibz Hilwa


Friday, 13 August 2010

Niggers and Paki's.

Niggers or Paki's any single word they use to classify and identify our identity to degrade us worse then the slave ships and worse then the struggle for INDEPENDENCE,

Now we are in this country, they say London is so diverse, but our colour and creed is a curse to them, trapped in the system of capitalism, and they fool us into thinking we need their DEPENDENCE

The shortened version of the word Pakistani to a four letter word that bigots of the 70’s enjoyed using while bashing my family, and the N word used to described slaves to degrade them, disgrace them, yet we use them in abundance.

Words that state us and paint our personality and taint our reality

Two words trickled down to the youth, in dismay, passed through like an urban cool, but who’s the fool; tell me who’s the fool when these words would make Enoch Powell drool. At the thought that we the minority, driving the NHS and maintaining the elite authority, degrade ourselves in such a way.

I can’t understand why these words are in the oxford dictionary, when it’s just fantasy fiction created by the oppressors of the past, how long will this last, They tell us to move from past to present but like the Palestinian scarf this fashion is one that is likely to last.

The problem isn’t as simple as a pimple on your face, as we scratch away, hoping one day this dilemma will go away, scratching away, until nothing is left but a scar on your cheek and mankind’s conscious.

Politicians tell us to move on, while I wipe the backside of the Lord in the chamber, I just wiped you bottom, can I have my peerage now please? Prince Harry showing us that the monarchy have not changed, just exchanged the whip for the word.

And now the disease is a condition, smiles of the bigots in the graves develop as I call my Pakistani friend a Paki and my Black friend a nigger, as if, spitting in the faces of the brave men and women who fought in the struggle.

The solution remains in the heart, where the disease was first implemented, showing brothers your love is above all else what we must strive for, to escape this condition and that. Is the mission.

So when you walk on the street, embrace your brother, black, white, brown any colour that our green, blue or brown eyes see.
Because no colour truly defines me.
Or YOU.






no colour DEFINES your identity

'The Yob'

'The Yob'

The 'White boy', shaved head, leaning on the wall,
Can’t cry, can’t smile, life for him is dead.
Tall towers engulf his world, opportunities are far,
His life is summed up by the cut above is lip,
Etched on his soul, lies another scar

Beat down before, not now he says,
‘I got myself a knife’
So often he comes back in a daze
Friday was high day and they would blaze

witnessed father beat her black and blue,
he thought if she wasn't my mother I would beat her too.

aspirations were existent but they were stamped out even through resistance
wrote a short story through his teacher's insistence
but it wasn't published because no one persisted.

This emotional function is stained, gone black,
‘I never been a boy, I never existed’
He mumbles, his life is as evil as twisted,
Now spends his days, getting high on crack
Ignorant and angry, there is no way back.

His deep blue eyes swallow hope,
And the blade in his hand shouts insecurity,
As the fumes in his fag make him choke,
Labelled a failure, teachers gave up,
His body is corrupt, he has had enough,

Lying their mindless, just like before,
But blood dominates as he is no more,
For the sorrow of it all,
No one really cares,
‘He’s vulgar, racist, he shouts, he swears,

So there he rots labelled ‘The Yob’
As deep in the estate, his mother starts to sob.

Thursday, 12 August 2010

For the Innocent Victims of War

They call it democracy
But in reality it's just contradictions and hypocrisy
Hiding behind their protective veils
Goverment and money as their shields
Point their finger at innocent nations
Then sell to them their destructive creations
They create an international police force
Whilst claiming to start legitimate wars
They say their just creating a peaceful world
Then make weapons more dangerous, why?
To increase their worth
They fell threatened when a country makes progress
Then decide it's elimination in their prejudice congress
Arrogant viewpoints- their supreme opinions
At their command deaths of thousands of civilians
They initiated the terrorist colony
Started off all the killing, pain and agony
Yet they invade other nations
Accusing them of their own violations
They fund dictators and form a strong alliance
Then feel threatened when the dictator becomes defiant
To maintain power and avoid deviation
They invent a war on terror..A great fabrication
Claiming to be saviours they come with their artillery
Armed to their teeth killing relentlessly
They feel free to avenge the death of their loved ones
Yet it's a crime for us to protect our homeland?
If they really are fighting terror like they said
Then their guns should be pointing at their own heads

By Fatema Khatun

Friday, 6 August 2010

Here I stand

Here I stand,
Tall and strong in my occupation

Here I stand,
In the shadow of the strong and tall,

Yet I am stronger
I am deeper,
I am love,
I am no heart of stone,
And, in time
I will sow a thousand doves,
That will spread their wings,
And break this stone oppressor,
From its very foundations,

Do not mistake me,
Simply for a frail old thing,
For I was here before you,
Am here with you,
And shall be here long after you have gone..

Even tho you may try to slay me
My life comes from within,
the very earth under your feet.

Listen
My heart beats freedom.

By DJ Steaz

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'This poem was inspired initially by the photograph, and also the experiences I have had and people I have met throughout my life, combined with my journey and experience in Palestine ...an expression of my feelings and thoughts which manifested in these words..the poem is kind of about the Olive tree..but it's really more profound than that..kind of regarding human perseverance, strength, passion, peace, truth and love' DJ Steaz...

This poem was inspired by the experiences I have had and people I have met throughout my life.
Here is a link for the photographers original work:
http://media.photobucket.com/image/olive_tree_palestine/mainstreet99/bethlehemwall1.jpg?o=1