Poets Against Inequality Read online

  Only with a heart deceived by lust,

  But why at the end of the month does such a man earn more than a woman?

  When women lead not just their own lives, but their families as well,

  With a humble heart, why do women not get promoted to managers?

  A woman – carries the entire world on her shoulder without a sigh of pain,

  Such differences were the result of selfishness, arrogance, and wrong preaching,

  In 2016 let us crown the women, who have gone through hell and back for our comfort,

  And the women who are oppressed, misused, and never acknowledged for simply,

  Let each one of them walk off the hurt, the loneliness, and the lack of self esteem

  For each of them is, phenomenally, a woman.

  James Freel Stevenson, UK

  The Power Of The One

  All rise and take heed, for a wise man is here

  Seek not retribution, don’t feed their fear

  Forgive them, love them, they know not what they do

  Would you be equal with them, or they with you?

  One against many, many with few

  Strength is in numbers, think what you do

  Almost two trillion dollars between sixty two

  Only three hundred in one year for you

  Cast your votes wisely as one we unite

  This is the help you need for your plight

  To create a life, not start a fight.

  Have I more than you, or you than me

  Inequality is relevant, this you must see

  We all have good reason, perhaps not to share

  It’s my house or my land, it’s just and it’s fair?

  Abundance for all the universe provides

  Who shall determine how we divide?

  Poverty and misery affect me and you

  Blindness and deafness affect sixty two

  My need is greater or my brothers is less

  Where to begin with this terrible mess?

  Spread my message among you

  The answer clear and concise.

  Use the power of the one

  Or we’ll all pay the price!

  Douglas R. Stewart, USA

  Dance of Fear

  South Africa decreed, with fatherly pomp,

  Scholarships for girls and women, but only if

  Her hymen is intact. But they the count this to be

  liberalism, this eternal protection of male rights.

  In the land of the free and the home of the brave,

  A woman has her equal rights proclaimed to all the

  World, except in wages, jobs, and reserved professions,

  As long as her religion, pastor, priest, or rabbi permits.

  But at least they keep their lives and homes and safety.

  Proud men with guns and swords, with hatred in their hearts

  And property filed next to sex in their spirits. Some established

  serial wives for deceased bombers, with a permanent escape clause.

  A vicious dance around the planet, women are beaten, kicked and horribly

  Punched, mutilated, and yet, and yet, in alleys, ghettos, and motel

  Rooms, in hospitals, mansions, and sometimes barns, babies

  Are being born, mothers are in every culture, tribe, worshiped.

  With grey insults, dark griefs, black lacerations but we are not like

  Them! Those we disdain down in the caliphates, who treat women with

  Savagery.

  Udaya R. Tennakoon, Sri Lanka

  Galileo’s Irony

  If the earth human survives is a globe, justice will pronounce

  But the globe and the justice are contrast to the reality

  If the mind well-dressed is in heart, then the humanity will beam

  But the mind and the humanity are contrast to the reality

  If the God is an absolute metaphor, it will be the world spirit

  But the metaphor and spirit are contrast to the reality

  If the equality is a mirror of human principle, difference could be respected

  But the equality and the difference are contrast to the reality

  If the vision of the Galileo’s eye, enlarges the truth and the history

  But the science and the truth are blindfolded to the reality

  If the modernity invents more and more to the new world’s balcony

  But the meaning of the progress is less and less to the reality

  If widening gap is a cycle, wealth and poverty will encounter a day

  But the poverty in a vicious cycle is contrast to the riches of the reality

  If the struggle is the sword of proletariats, bourgeoisie will be the contrary

  But the praxis and the philosophy are contrast to the politics of the reality

  If evolution finds an answer, glaciers on poles will make sinking ship of hopes

  But the revolution for the inequity is aside of ignorance for the necessity

  If these dichotomies end transforming, transcendence will be nature’s diversity

  But extend of greediness and suffering from hunger are matchless to the unity

  If the binary oppositions sit on the unbalance, it will be a rolling stone

  But the world makes thousands of speeches on it to the airy organs

  If the cry and sigh die in hunger, while withering the soul and the heart

  But the rhythm for a song of real change dances as a guilty guest

  Savita Tyagi, USA

  The Wolf is there to devour It All..

  Little Red Riding Hood is hopping through the forest!

  Doesn't know the big bad wolf, hiding in Grand ma's closet.

  She has no place to hide with her basket full of ideology.

  Democracy and Liberty, equal rights and opportunity,

  For justice, peace, education, wealth and basic amenities,

  O! My angel! Don't you see! The wolf is there to devour it all!

  This wolf has many faces with sharp and dangerous claws.

  Mega corporations and their greedy financial monopoly,

  Arrogant governments with terrifying military supremacy,

  Supporting unfair tax policies, low wages, and inequality,

  World demagogues pretending to look after little people,

  Oh! My angel! How would you face these scavenger of wealth?

  The savage wolf has been in grandma's coat far too long.

  It has multiple names and hide outs to move around.

  It's most cruel face Slavery and Apartheid is abolished,

  Cast system much abhorred and despised is outlawed.

  Now pride and dignity in human labor must be reinstalled.

  A living wage for a honest day's work is time's fair demand.

  Yet wealth is being hoarded by too few powerful czars.

  Rest are being deprived, their economic growth is barred.

  Millions are made poor and destitute in an economic bust,

  Stricken by manmade disaster toiling for mere bread crumbs

  Oh! My angel! How would you survive this betrayal of trust?

  Look out! Your precious basket is being robbed by their lust.

  Jorge Valles Anguiano, México

  The Actual World

  As I see people walking,

  looking elegant,

  I see others asking for money.

  And I ask myself,

  "What's better? Give them money?

  Or give them a job? Or at least,

  try to discover people with a talent

  and give them a job, an opportunity".

  I remember a day when I was a kid

  and I got lost. I saw someone sat on the floor, and

  I sat with him, at some distance, as I didn't know him.

  Then, I could see how people

  looked at him like if he were a monster,

  garbage, an accident.

  I felt sad about that person,

  so I got close to hi
m

  and gave him what little money I had.

  He first stared at me, then told me,

  "You'll need this more than me,

  and I'll make sure that you don't end like me".

  After that my mom, scared, found me and

  took me home, I told her what happened, and I

  assured her that I'll forever remember his words.

  Hans Van Rostenberghe, Belgium

  Flowers in the desert of greed

  A small flower in the desert of greed

  Sheds some fragrance, sheds a seed.

  Two little flowers in the desert of need

  Each a bit of fragrance, each gives a seed

  Four small flowers growing among weed

  Fragrance increases, each produces a seed

  Flowers, eight and sixteen and then thirty two

  Flourishing fragrance and more seeds too.

  Sixty four, two fifty six, more than a thousand soon

  no more place for weed, crumbling greed and needs,

  A million flowers each shedding fragrance and seeds

  The desert of greed and need and weed recedes

  Small acts of kindness, the fragrance will spread

  Greed and stress vanishing; peace of mind instead

  Awareness growing, weed by weed reaches death

  Equality an illusion; for inequality no solution

  as long as we wait for big shots' contribution

  What we need now is a kindness revolution

  It won't be the crooks, the ones who now lead the greed

  It won't be the sand in the desert that alleviates the need

  Small acts of kindness are fragrance and seed

  A billion flowers of kindness, it's easy to see.

  A true revolution on its way, as big as can be.

  It depends not on presidents, but on you and on me.

  Mai Venn, Ireland

  The ladder of life

  Born into poverty – the bottom rung,

  Deprived from a childhood education,

  However, life is a far better tutor,

  Learning from parents and siblings

  With its advantages and disadvantages

  The old ways were good but unrealistic.

  Adolescent and poverty, the next rung,

  Slave labour for tuppence a day,

  Beneath all weathers and situations

  Living under deplorable rule,

  Governments that crack the whip

  To keep the unfortunate folks down.

  Approaching adulthood, meeting more rungs,

  Starting a family with no prospects,

  Drudgery repeats itself once more –

  Look on at the suffering of the poor,

  Then look over at the rich prospering –

  Where is the equality in that?

  Up or down the ladder, on we go.

  Fairness is an illusion for some,

  Freedom is a dream for others.

  Justice is never straightforward,

  Equality is something we’ll never have –

  Not from the beginning nor to the end of time.

  So the ladder of life can it be climbed or not?

  The rich get richer while the poor take the fall.

  The world continues to spin around and around.

  Does anything change for the downtrodden and poor?

  Who, in this moment in time, can make those decisions?

  Will there always be an equality division?

  Michael Walker, New Zealand

  Outside The ASB Tennis Arena

  Before the evening semifinals in January, 2014,

  when the star of Venus Williams sparkled brightly,

  I walked out of the ASB Arena to the Domain nearby.

  I sat on a park bench, to dine and drink cordial.

  I was alone in the twilight, gazing at the skyline:

  office buildings with teal windows that I like;

  the eternal flow of cars down the motorway

  a contrast to the calm harbor in the distance.

  I felt that inner peace which is like nirvana;

  in a twilight zone out of time and space.

  A man walked up to put some papers in the bin

  and we exchanged a cordial strangers' greeting,

  before he said: "I'm in the tent over there".

  I thought of the blue-and-white tent covers

  where spectators sip champagne court side.

  However, he pointed out his own blue tent

  under the broad branches of an oak tree:

  he smiled knowingly, went back to his dwelling,

  inside for the night and outside of my life.

  I had glimpsed loneliness and poverty,

  even dignity, as he indeed lived there.

  The affable stranger stayed in my mind much

  longer than the semi-final under floodlights.

  Aaron Njoroge Wambu, Kenya

  Pangani Round About

  "Nisaidie kumi nikule sapa"

  I found a tinge of humor in that statement

  After the street kid picked the coin from my arm and said "asanti"

  They know an evening meal is called supper, huh?

  Maybe it’s humorous

  Or maybe I’m guilty of looking down upon them

  Like many of us busy nobles are

  Am I another man in the melting pot?

  Leaning my head against the old matatu window in the evening

  Traffic jam around Pangani roundabout

  I felt a sense of triumph as I gave the young street boy a coin

  As he thanked me I wore that half a smile that said "don’t mention it"

  And a moment of reflection hit me, "Or that even isn’t enough?"

  I was broken yet I’d afford to give; how blessed I was!

  But then; a million questions always pop up in such bittersweet moments

  Who shall be next to give generously?

  Shall he have himself a healthy meal?

  How many in number are there of his kind?

  Will he be lucky enough to be a great man?

  Why did he have to be here in the first place?

  Are we masters of our fate or we’re mere twigs swaying with the winds?

  A million and a several more rhetoric questions.. till the end,

  If such a thing as the end exists at all

  And,

  How many of us are ‘rich’ enough to give?

  __________

  Author's note:

  Nisaidie kumi nikule sapa: "bless me with 10 shillings for my supper"

  Asanti: thanks

  Matatu: city bus

  Niken Kusuma Wardani, Indonesia

  Bridge towards Equality

  Children in the burning sun

  Run races in the street.

  They offer their songs

  In return for pennies.

  Inside the fancy cars,

  Big people sit with ease

  While little waving hands

  Reach into their windows.

  These are the big people

  Who describe poverty

  In expensive symposiums

  To gain public sympathy.

  Yet, the theory and facts

  Never mingle into acts.

  The rich and poor still

  Live apart in two worlds.

  Our barriers must break,

  Our hearts must grow,

  So we can learn empathy.

  It’s the bridge to equality.

  Mithilesh Kumar Yadav, India

  Existence of Inequality

  With my tears mixing into my sweat and to soil, how delicious food in those villas they have ,

  And my daughter denies to have those cookies, knowing his father will not be able to afford,

  But in that respect I work hard to earn, those billionaires from us have lot to learn,

  Oh it rarely matters to my soul, but my son asks after hectares of productions why so less we e
arn.

  In those Air conditioned gyms, calories they burn.. And we strive to get some calories near furnaces

  With every night we do extra shifts, as they sip those red wines in their roaring villas,

  And my beloved wife yet not getting enough even to cook for our child and their grands,

  Oh it really won’t matter to my soul, but speechless

  I stand when my son asks why we can’t afford though we can make those brands.

  Why we can’t ride the luxury cars U drive dad, my daughter asks,

  Many a days and nights I am out for my master’s tasks,

  I am happy that my master is confidence of my driving for his wife, children and delegates sometime,

  But though she looks satisfying in that 3yrs old gown

  I know my love beliefs I will get her new this time.

  We don’t aspect to be seen as underprivileged, we do have privilege of shaping todays and tomorrows,

  May be our families are not well to do today, but we do have dreams for tomorrows.

  Oh it really won’t hurt our soul, we may never accept a thought of equality,

  But if there is freedom, there is humanity, there is law..

  Why there is existence of this Inequality?

  ~*~

  Authors' biographies

  Sayeed Abubakar, Bangladesh

  — Born in 1972, I live in Jessore. I have a BA Honours in English and MA in English, and I’m working as Assistant Professor in English at Sirajganj Government College, Sirajganj (Bangladesh). I have won many Literary Awards and have published 12 books: two of them of Prose, ten of Poetry [the latest being "Tumi Balo Tumi Bristi Valobaso" (You Say You Love Rain), and "Shrestha Kabita" (Selected Poems), both in 2015].

  ~*~

  Alexandro Acevedo Johns, Chile

  — My name is Alexandro Acevedo Johns, but I sign my writing with my maternal surname (Johns). I am Chilean, born on November 2, 1947. I'm a lawyer and live in Santiago, the capital of Chile, with my wife Marcela. In my youth I was devoted to poetry, as many of my generation. Now, since I retired from the legal profession, I've regained my freedom to write. It is said that writing is a very demanding activity and endanger the spirit if you're not an optimist. But, after the years, I feel that writing helps me to stay alive and connected emotionally with the world we live in

  ~*~

  Ellias Aghili Dehnavi, Iran

  — I was born in 1996 in Iran, and I'm currently living with my family in Esfahan, the cultural capital of Iran. I'm studying English literature at the University of Esfahan (B.A student). My favorite fields of study are poetry and English literature. I wrote my first poem, a limerick, when I was twelve years old, and compiled my first Poetry collection, on peace as a topic, when I was 15. One year later, this poetry collection got a recognition from the faculty of foreign languages (University of Isfahan/Esfahan), and also hit an important festival in Iran, called "Khawrazmi". Since then, I've published some other poetry books, also with friends -members of the M.O.P international group, of which I'm currently the second secretary. Since we are all seeking for a better world, where peace and friendships are basic values, it's a honor to be part of this project 'Poets against Inequality'.