Jump on the Tiger (INQILAAB)

REVOLUTION

2007-11-16T09:19:00.000-08:00

By Alex Hash

When the group begins to fuse, like the storming of Bastille, its members experience a brusk resurrection of freedom - Sartre

It cuts red deep when I try
To immure it within nailing walls
Because it grows and grows
With an aching passion.

DAVID AND GOLIATH

2007-11-15T17:33:00.001-08:00

The story of David and Goliath throughout centuries has remained an inspirational model for unequal battles, revolutions and uphill tasks. Here is my take on it.

This poem is dedicated to the courageous lawyers of Pakistan. (Esp. Aitzaz Ahsan and Chief Justice Iftikhar.)

MURDER IN PHILISTIA

By Alex Hash

(Circa 1060 B.C)

Moist and leaden,
And after the blink
A profound whiteness
Crossed the boundary.
A passion, a fury,
Gushed at the seam
(A murderous reversal).
Was it I, or was it I,
Who saw,
In the menacing darkness,
Without incest
(Of Time).
First the chill, then the glare.
And the Without,
Wounded it fell,
Covered by silence.
Not a whimper, not a moan,
But death
In the House of Yahweh.

JUSTICE BEFORE CHARITY

2007-11-15T16:22:00.000-08:00

By Alex Hash

FACT: 32% of Pakistanis live below poverty line

People of Pakistan

Pointing eyes
Dreaming to sorrow
In a burning harrow

Bleeding to comfort
Holding to lips
Drinking the marrow

Wanting to plea
Cut into snippets
Breathing too shallow

What is needed is not charity, but justice — the conforming of human institutions to the eternal laws of right – Henry George May 8, 1887

Justice before Roti, Kapra, Makaan – Imran Khan subverting Bhutto's slogan

(DIS) OBEDIENCE

2007-11-15T15:14:00.000-08:00

By Alex Hash

The cleavage between temporal and eternal is the greatest delusion of consciousness – Nikolai Berdyaev

Respected Musharraf /Than Shwe:

What life and what freedom?
Swollen, bleeding and burdensome,
The yoke still on my neck,
Woe harnessed to suffocate within.

I am pale dead in your bile bed.
This dog my god, my brain turned sod,
To reap your winsome smile,
Burnished by your evil guile.

My corpse cohering in,
Off from your gnashing teeth pull.
Now clad in white lobe,
No more raven amber robe.

Justitia brought back to life,
Free from your whipping strife.
Hear the thunder of Aaron's rod:
Your dog is now your god.

Obediently,
People of Pakistan and Burma

LET A THOUSAND CHE GUEVARAS BLOOM

2007-11-15T14:49:00.000-08:00

By Alex Hash

'Shoot, coward, you're only going to kill a man'- Fearless last words of Che Guevara to his executioner before he was shot.

To Musharraf /Than Shwe:

In this quagmire
My hatred is justified
For my heart aches hopelessly
For freedom.
So is my guilt
That scatters screaming visions
And flutters desperately
Like a dying bird.
I love you all
In my naked being
But these wings that
Have grown out
Have a passion to fly.
I wish I could
Cut blind these eyes
That spy across horizons
And breach your walls
And your rules.
Hear the prayers of a dying man:
"Let a thousand Che bloom."

Written By Alex Hash: Nov 6, 2007 3:29 AM

Thanks to N.S for forwarding it to Lums newsletter.