
Mark Felt's Last Birthday August, 2008
Palestinian Poet Mahmoud Darwish
I saw Mahmoud Darwish over more than two decades in
She shares her favourite poem with us - a biblical story of Yousef:
Oh my father, I am Yusuf
Oh father, my brothers neither love me nor want me in their midst
They assault me and cast stones and words at me
They want me to die so they can eulogize me
They closed the door of your house and left me outside
They expelled me from the field
Oh my father, they poisoned my grapes
They destroyed my toys
When the gentle wind played with my hair, they were jealous
They flamed up with rage against me and you
What did I deprive them of, Oh my father?
The butterflies stopped on my shoulder
The bird hovered over my hand
What have I done, Oh my father?
Why me?
You named me Yusuf and they threw me into the well
They accused the wolf
The wolf is more merciful than my brothers
Oh, my father
Did I wrong anyone when I said that
I saw eleven stars and the sun and the moon
Saw them kneeling before me?
Jordanian Samer Marzouq, writing at Jazarah, says Darwish's death is a big loss for the Arab world.
Bad news, the greatest Arab poet, the Palestinian Mahmoud Darwish has died today in a hospital in Huston in the
Tunisian blog Khil We Lil [Ar] marks Darwish's death saying:
عملاق آخر يمضي
Another giant passes away.
Radwa Osama, from
In a sad tone, Amr told me that Mahmoud Darwish passed away. I have repeatedly asked him not to break such stories to me in one go. A little while later, we listened to Mahmood Darwish's voice on the computer. I can hear his clear sadness. I don't find a lot of words to add but I am extremely sad. I was thinking that next time his visited
. Poets never die.
You may view the latest post at
http://globalvoicesonline.org/2008/08/09/arabeyes-mourning-for-mahmoud-darwish/
McCain Restricts Medical Report
HuffPost
John McCain is scheduled to release 400 pages of medical records this Friday, after having promised to release the records for more than a year. Doing so on the Friday before Memorial Day makes this look like a classic document dump. To make matters even more controlled, McCain will only allow a limited number of media outlets to view the records.
Ode to a Dead Iraqi Boy
Allen L Roland, Salon.com
Yesterday you were laughing
and playing with your sister
You knew nothing about war
You knew only that you loved
your sister and your parents
and your grandparents and of
course, your dog .
You were free, you were alive
You were gleefully chasing your
sister in the open field
when you heard the planes.
You looked up squinting into the sun
When you heard the first bomb
you began to run towards your home
aware of your mother screaming your name .
You never made it .
You were torn and shredded by an illegal
cluster bomb dropped by an illegal invading
force fighting an illegal war .
Conveniently swept, along with
countless others,
under a rug of
debris called
Collateral Damage .
Sleep peacefully little boy
I will take your outstretched hand
I will give you life with my words
For only poetry can strike deep enough
to give you breath again
For only poetry can join your innocent
heart with ours .
Perhaps these following words from Alice Walker
will touch the hearts of your American
perpetrators and the American public
who continue to condone this
illegal genocide ~ all under the false
banner of patriotism.
Thousands of feet below you
There is a a small boy
running from your bombs.
If he were to show up
at your mothers house
on a green Sea island
off the coast of
He'd be invited in for dinner.
Now, driven , you have
shattered his bones .
He lies steaming in
the desert
In fifty or sixty
or maybe one hundred
oily, slimy bits.
If you survive and return
to your island home
and your mother's gracious
table
where the cup of loving
kindness overflows
the brim
( and from which no one
in memory was ever
turned )
Gather yourself.
Set a place
for him.
ONLY LOVE UNITES AND HEALS
Allen L Roland
http://blogs.salon.com/0002255/2008/04/03.html