Just Jot It Jan : Suffer Little Children

CRACK! Crash, Silence a  shot in the dark

No pleasant, fun walk in the park

Everyone fell to their knees

Those who can get up , flee

Stay still and quiet

Pray they will go

Who can know

Why they

Kill.

 

This post is part of Just Jot It January hosted by Linda G Hill.

Thanks for tuning in and if you want to join, feel free to click on the link and start jotting!

Nothing Changes

“Diplomacy is never dead.”

That’s  what the man in the black suit said!

Gaza Live: Hamas broke truce, says Israel calling off

ceasefire.

Silence and  tremours after the blast

I hear  nothing now how long will it last.

It is so dark and dusty in here I cannot breath I cannot see

Where are you mum  are  you still near, can you hear me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quiet, then the sound of voices and moving rubble

Panic in their  voices they cannot reach him, what’s the trouble.

It’s  no good this woman is dead

The child is  too there’s a hole in his head

 

Why do we never learn, why does nothing change.

 

 

SoCs, Lest We Forget.

 

Giant Rememberence  Poppy

Giant Rememberence Poppy

Lest we forget? a war  to end all wars

Yet everywhere  you look there  are more  and more!

We preach  peace, we say no more

Still somewhere, on every  continent,  someone is at war!

Neighbour  against neighbour  brothers and sisters  too

Always it is  the innocents  who do the  suffering.  What are we to do?

 

They are erecting giant Poppies to commemorate the start of  the first world war.

It started  in a foreign land, a duke  was shot  the result we know and  more.

The first world war started in 1914  on the 28th of July

Sadly looking round the  world , we have learned  nothing . Can you tell me why?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This  is my  entry  for  this  week  for  SoCs on Lindaghill .

 

Here are the rules:

1. Your post must be stream of consciousness writing, meaning no editing, (typos can be fixed) and minimal planning on what you’re going to write.

2. Your post can be as long or as short as you want it to be. One sentence – one thousand words. Fact, fiction, poetry – it doesn’t matter. Just let the words carry you along until you’re ready to stop.

3. There will be a prompt every week. I will post the prompt here on my blog on Friday, along with a reminder for you to join in. The prompt will be one random thing, but it will not be a subject. For instance, I will not say “Write about dogs”; the prompt will be more like, “Make your first sentence a question,” or “Begin with the word ‘The’.”

4. Ping back! It’s important, so that I and other people will come and read your post! The way to ping back, is to just copy and paste the URL of my post somewhere on your post. Then your URL will show up in my comments, for everyone to see. For example, in your post you can copy and paste the following: This post is part of SoCS:  http://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2014/07/25/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-july-2514/  The most recent pingbacks will be found at the top.

5. Read at least one other person’s blog who has linked back their post. Even better, read everyone’s! If you’re the first person to link back, you can check back later, or go to the previous week, by following my category, “Stream of Consciousness Saturday,” which you’ll find right below the “Like” button on my post.

6. Copy and paste the rules (if you’d like to) in your post. The more people who join in, the more new bloggers you’ll meet and the bigger your community will get!

7. Have fun!

Ring a Ring a Roses

Ring a ring a roses a pocket full of posies tisshu, tisshu we all fall down.

Where are the grown ups where are they today?

Away shooting each other leaving the little ones to play.

Where is your Mummy, where is your Dad?

They are not here, and that makes us feel sad.

 

Why do you crouch down like that, near the floor.

We are dodging the bullets and rockets when we hear them roar.

Is this shocking is this wrong

Surely this is something we should not allow to go on.

 

We speak from the warmth and safety of our home

But ducking and hiding from war is all these children have known.

 

Where are all the grown ups where are they today.

Ring a ring a roses a pocket full of posies tisshu, tisshu we all fall down.

Mummy is at work and Daddy is at war, far far away.

Why are you so wet has it rained today,

We have been playing with the hose pipe. Have you water spare to play,

There are children dying of thirst in the  world today.

Is this shocking is this wrong,

 

Surely this is something we should not allow to go on.

Are these children happy what will they say

When they get home will Mummy still be happy will Daddy still be away.

Ring a ring a roses and pocket full of posies tisshu, tisshu we all fall down.

Where are all the grown ups where are they today.

Sadly they are all connected fighting  each other in wars today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wrote  this twist on Ring a Ring a Roses  on 14/November/ 2011.

The original nursery rhyme is about  people who died of  the plague    or  not depending on your point of view.

I saw my version as a tale to show  the contrast  between  children  who  live  in a war zone  and those

who  live in, what  to  the children from the war zone  would  see as a charmed  life

I then  decided  to link  their fathers  as  the  protagonist  in the wars raging  around  the world.

World  leaders  and religious leaders  send  their  men and women  off to fight  these unending  wars.

God ( what  ever  you call him/her ) help us all.

I would also  like to direct  you to a post I read on Palestine Rose , I  then saw  the same post  reblogged  on John Coyote’s  blog .

Tears of Syria

Tears fell down her face and her hands shook as she smoked a cigarette.

Anger flashed from her eyes and pain was in her words, she showed me things I will never forget.

I had never seen such dreadful sights they haunt me now and they invade my nights.

First a little baby… burnt … no proper medicine, no canulars small enough.

So many wounded no medicine no equipment. God , why is this so , why is their luck so tough?

More and more arrived teenagers most of them, some screaming.

Some silent all burned, white and in shock,  through the doors pain and fear blood streaming.

Overwhelmed after working for hours

Desperate to save the children, Syria’s flowers.

We cannot treat them she told the camera we don’t know what it is

Everyone who is not a medic was ordered out and the Drs put on masks.

They worked so hard but was all beyond them too much of a awful task.

They had to send them to Turkey. BUT  so many died

They died  a slow and painful death I was a  witness, so sad I just cried.

Two that survived, if you can call being in a living hell of pain and agony , a living death.

A boy fourteen saying all he knows is pain, what hope for him most of his body burned , what has he left.

“Why bomb us at school , why ” he asked. I have no answer I do not even know who bombed him, does anyone know.

A girl eighteen, Siham so badly burned her face scarred

“Please let it be over” she implored her future marred.

She was in a math class when the bombs came and burned them

Grief, hate nothing  but mayhem.

I don’t know how to stop this I don’t know what to do

Sadly this has always happened through history to our shame it is nothing new.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was so moved by  a TV program that I saw last night that I had to write the above poem. I have written about war before but in the historic sense.

This has so touched me  that I have broken my promise to myself  that I would not write about Syria  because I do not know enough about it  ………… But I just had to. I truly hope that I have not upset anyone by this poem.  Here are details of the news  story here.

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