For The Greatest One
By S. Norashkharian
*A gift to my mother*
I.
I ask Lord that this prayer may
Rise to you like a sweet incense
Of sacred herbs and blessed candles
From all of us who honor you!
I ask Lord that it may bring you
Our pleas for your endless mercy
From all of us who remembered
The homeless ones in this winter!
Let it become a holy choir
Which could be heard from East to West
So every voice from every land
Will sing your praise in different tongues!
Let it be like your morning breeze
Which awakens all living things
To thank you for one more new day
And then to play and celebrate!
And let it roar like your oceans
To remind us of your great might
As you gave us freedom of will
And released us like white pigeons!
II.
I ask Lord that this prayer may
Enter each home filled with sorrow
And like a chest of great treasure
Bring the sounds of joy and laughter!
I ask Lord that it may silence
All the weapons of unjust wars
And like a kind patient gardener
Plant the seeds of real harmony!
Let it be a palace of words
Where we gather to contemplate
On your wonders and mysteries
Which are beyond our weak senses!
Let it be like whispering pines
Which bring your laws to every ear
Let it be like a gurgling stream
Which brings your snow to earth's bosom!
And let it be a ruthless fire
To burn the weeds in barren minds
And a shield for those who fall down
Yet call your name and catch your hand!
III.
I ask Lord that this prayer may
Bring a new age with our promise
That we shall not harm one atom
Whether it is of trees or flies!
I ask Lord that you would restore
The world to what you had created
Before we made holes in mountains
And killed thousands of your species!
All that sustains us one second
You have designed and planned for us
As you raised the grass with sunshine
To fill a jar of milk for us!
And you ordered all chemicals
To act each in its proper way
Yet as one like the universe
To pump fuel in our bodies!
And you gave us the precious gift
Of enjoying all the beauty
Under your vast blue canopy
Or in the souls of our loved ones!
IV.
I ask Lord that this prayer may
Give us courage to laugh at fear
And each time that we feel threatened
We pursue it away with faith!
I ask Lord that this prayer may
Wake the instinct which you gave us
To know the truth and perceive through
The web of lies which surrounds us!
That it may bring back the children
Who died before their own parents
And kittens which were euthanized
For not having enough shelter!
That it may lead us to break free
From the hidden chains around us
Because of fake ancient beliefs
And those who use them against us!
That it may help us to forgive
All those misled from early age
To believe that love of homeland
Is to invade other nations!
V.
I ask Lord that this prayer may
Be offered with humility
And not like a yelling spoiled child
Who demands things incessantly!
I ask Lord that this prayer may
Teach us about your paradise
That it exists inside of us
When you are there at any time!
Hear us O Lord from all the slums
Where we live in cardboard boxes!
Hear us O Lord when our water
Is polluted with toxic waste!
Hear us O Lord when we must work
All day to earn a loaf of bread!
Hear us O Lord when they jail us
And leave us years without trials!
O the greatest! O the wisest!
O the mountain of Righteousness!
O the fountain of endless Love!
Accept from us this flawed prayer!
Crucified Africa
By Shant Norashkharian
“Lord Jesus, at the end of this book, which I offer You
As a ciborium of sufferings
At the beginning of the Great Year, in the sunlight
Of Your peace on the snowy roofs of Paris
-- Yet I know that my brothers' blood will once more redden
The yellow Orient on the shores of the Pacific
Ravaged by storms and hatred
I know that this blood is the spring libation
The Great Tax Collectors have used for seventy years
To fatten the Empire's lands
Lord, at the foot of this cross - and it is no longer You
Tree of sorrow but, above the Old and New Worlds,
Crucified Africa,
And her right arm stretches over my land
And her left side shades America
And her heart is precious Haiti, Haiti who dared
Proclaim Man before the Tyrant
At the feet of my Africa, crucified for four hundred years
And still breathing
Let me recite to You, Lord, her prayer of peace and pardon.”
Leopold Sédar Senghor (1906-2001)
I.
When you were reduced and reduced again
You turned your proud face to the sun
Because before the dawn of man it had rejoiced
In reflecting your noble and black skin!
And when you gathered the remnants
Which were left from the memory of your land
It was all you could hold in your palms
It was all that was left for you to own!
Yet as long as you held tight to your roots
And washed the glue they poured in your wings
To force you down and even below down
You stood high as the ancestor of all!
Because on every inch of your black skin
The history of dinosaurs is written!
Yet you survived the betrayal of man
And refused to become extinct!
For your suffering was in the echo of mountains
And only rivers could carry your blood!
And only those who rebuilt themselves cell by cell
Know how you made yourself reborn!
II.
You had danced with death often
And laughed every time it touched your skirts!
You defied gravity and famine
Like the grasshoppers of the wilderness!
I will walk to the farthest mile with you
My good African brother
Because in your trust I placed my love
And in my love you did place your trust!
Because you and I have the same destiny
And slavery comes in many forms!
We endured the cruelty of man against man
And how to live landless and without identity!
We know they never went to colonize
Without their army of cosmeticians
Just to give destruction a pretty face
And to show how they civilized us!
Yet in the orange hours we whispered
And became acquainted with love again
Because with our pain grew our compassion
Even for the worst of our enemies!
III.
Yet we learned how to rejoice
When our brotherhood bloomed with all its glory!
And we ran from one room to the other
Asking others if they saw what we did!
Let us be gentler than white lilacs my dear brother
And learn kindness from the little birds
Who fly to my window this cold winter
And send me their blessings seed by seed!
How long how long my dear brother
Will they crucify Africa?
How long will they steal your land
And pay for it with bibles?
Yet their hour has now come
When they cannot even make what they need
And after squandering the wealth of the world
They have mortgaged everything and everyone!
Let us go together now my dear brother
And welcome the sunrise of another New World!
After four hundred years on the cross
Let us beckon Our Great Year with joy!
Crescent City, California, USA
January, 2007 to December, 2009
IN THE LAND OF FIFTY STARS
PART ONE
"The land of the slave and coward"
"BOOTLICKING, n. A popular American mass participation sport which is rapidly displacing baseball as 'the national pastime.'"
"When the shackles of slaves were replaced with golden ones,
they thought themselves free."
"The saddest thing is that Americans are cultivated like mushrooms from birth to death, kept in the dark and fed horseshit."
I.
In the land of fifty stars
The minds shrink while cars grow big
And the souls are so shallow
That they dry like car wash rags!
The birds cannot hear themselves
As engines breed much faster
And one moment of silence
Is as extinct as the birds!
Everywhere lips are moving
But not a word worth to hear
Such decadence in great wealth
And even in poverty!
Such ignorance but yet worse
The contempt for intellect
Such apathy to greatness
Which is not of the matter!
In the land of fifty stars
There are long lines everywhere
But never to hear wisdom
Just to consume unto death!
II.
They fooled themselves to believe
That they are all great and free!
They fooled the world to believe
That this is land of honey!
If you reject their "freedom"
They will bring an army base!
If you reject their system
They will force it down your throat!
They let you speak freely
As long as none can hear you!
They will treat you equally
If your skin is just as white!
If knowledge is what you seek
They throw at you more channels!
And while you watch their programs
They program your ideas!
Welcome to the "Melting Pot"
In the land of fifty stars
Where everyone tastes the same
Like five day old hamburgers!
III.
In the land of fifty stars
The statues and monuments
Are not built for the great men
But well known war criminals!
Those who ordered mass killings
Of hundreds of native tribes
And invasion of cities
With bombs larger than buildings!
And who ordered to import
Free Africans packed like rats!
And who bought them for labor
And raped them when they desired!
Then they made a conference
For only white and rich men
And they said all are equal
But we are more than equal!
"Founding Fathers" they called them
The pioneers of the world
Yet they were such hypocrites
Never before known to man!
IV.
In the land of fifty stars
All the rights of slavery
Under the law are preserved
Just until your last paycheck!
In the land of fifty stars
Each sick man is a gold mine
The longer they keep him sick
The more he must buy from them!
You are free to vote they say
For all of the candidates
Yet they control all of them
Or destroy whom they cannot!
Their money is even fake
Printed by the private banks
On paper which is worthless
Which they lend with interest!
So they built a big whorehouse
And they called it the Congress
And preached to the whole world
Democracy and freedom!
V.
In the land of fifty stars
They perfected the cloning
Not by means of medicine
But established old systems!
From the media to the schools
From churches to the Senate
All is designed to produce
More morons with each decade!
In this land strange things happen
Such as cave men flying jets
Into the most guarded skies
And crashing them in buildings!
Pigs here have sex with chickens
To make unknown viruses!
And around each street corner
Afghans show up to raid us!
The safest people on earth
Are in great fear and trembling!
Who is out there to revenge
For all of our dirty crimes?
PART TWO
"Produce or die!"
"America...under God, indivisible, with time off to shit, shower and shop."
“They died saying 'We don't have time', touching some rays of the sun.”
"It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society."
VI.
In the land of fifty stars
They make products to consume
Yet those products consume them
And rob them from each minute!
Everything is sacrificed
For the better livelihood
Yet while they earn even more
They live less and even less!
"We don’t have time" they complain
When glued to the TV screens
"We don't have time" they whimper
We must climb the money tree!
"We don't have time" they cry out
From toilets and shopping malls
"We don't have time" they appeal
Till time leaves them forever!
So time becomes their master
And the clock its hard henchman
And they auction piece by piece
All the freedom they once had!
VII.
In the land of fifty stars
When one ceases to produce
He is thrown to the junkyard
Like obsolete equipment!
Once in a while the big thieves
Who taxed his hard earned wages
Would throw at him a small bone
Or a pension for the birds!
Without his job he is lost
Who am I he always asks
He had no time to find out
So he waits and waits to die!
He looks around at the junk
And he finds his own feelings
Piled up in the far corner
As he had no time for them!
He had just two dimensions
A slave and a consumer
But now he is obsolete
And has no more dimensions!
VIII.
They think they must live this way
By jumping from role to role
To please all and every one
While they shove their true selves down!
All the chores must be finished
Before they feed their own souls
Which must wait for a junk meal
Served to them by soul peddlers!
Philosophers have told us
Insanity of nations
Is more common than noticed
And there is yet no known cure!
Generations have gone by
Yet it goes on even now
Such as forests of young trees
Cut just for one week of fun!
Insanity continues
in the land of fifty stars
Where people have no more time
But for pagan holidays!
IX.
So they look at the whole world
As a giant TV screen
They see all that pleases them
And ignore all that does not!
And they banish all who hold
A mirror in front of them
"Village Idiots" they are called
And turned off like bad channels!
They forget of the countries
Which they ravaged to pieces
And then reward their leader
With a second election!
While billions moan of hunger
And earn per day one dollar
They burn their most precious corn
In the bellies of their trucks!
Cold are their souls and colder
Than their polite excuses
Their mission is to have fun
And it is their religion!
X.
Yet they are blessed with the best
Of everything on their land
Why then do they choose to be
Such predators on the weak?
Why do they build more weapons
Than the rest of the whole world?
Yet a fraction of the cost
Could erase all poverty!
Why do they chase Mexicans
Who reach by foot their borders
Risking death in the desert
Just to earn from hard labor?
Have they no more decency?
Have they no more compassion?
They build churches everywhere
Yet abandon their brothers!
Have they no sense for outrage?
Not one shred of dignity?
They hang their flag on their homes
Yet in its name evil reigns!
PART THREE
"The patriot is the scoundrel!"
“Here’s where the grieving eagle
dived to his death.
Here’s where strangers won over us
leaving us nothing for the New Age."
(Palestinian poet 1942-2008)
"Patriotism is a cataract that blinds us to all national discrepancies."
"No American thinks of himself or herself as cruel, or connected in any way with the world's largest human and environmental killing machine."
"Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel".
"Every powerful state relies on specialists whose task is to show that what the strong do is noble and just and, if the weak suffer, it is their fault."
"Take up the White Man's burden--
Send forth the best ye breed--
Go bind your sons to exile
To serve your captives' need;
To wait in heavy harness,
On fluttered folk and wild--
Your new-caught, sullen peoples,
Half-devil and half-child."
XI.
In the land of fifty stars
They suffer from cataract
So the homeland dear to all
Is blurred with its government!
Their country is always right
How can the flag make errors
It is the fault of Arabs
That God put oil in their land!
It is the fault of Muslims
That they worship false prophets
And as soon as they are born
They want to kill all of us!
The history they have learned
Is packaged well just for them
Like a Christmas present box
Which pumps up their self-worship!
Their country is peace loving
And it never started wars
They were always attacked first
Even if they set the traps!
XII.
In the land of fifty stars
They have one more great mission
To civilize savages
As a service to mankind!
Yet most of these savages
Thousands of years before them
Had alphabet and law books
And poetry and music!
The patriots are so proud
That in the past six decades
They invaded at least one
Country in each single year!
They are ready all the time
To kick those poor third world butts
As soon as they raise their heads
And get bold and out of line!
They have produced more victims
Than Stalin and Genghiz Khan
Yet not one of them was killed
At their borders for defense!
XIII.
America! Your eagle
Already dived to its death!
You are on the auction block
For the whole world to mock you!
When you offer your dollar
They turn you down with disdain
Instead of it they demand
The Albanian lek for trade!
Your cowboy hat in your hand
You go around everywhere
Asking for more and more loans
Kissing the feet of Chinese!
How pathetic is the corpse
Of your eagle on the ground!
With its feet up to the sky
It seems asking for mercy!
America! Your honor
Flows like mud in brown sewers
Which are open as in slums
For all to smell and run far!
XIV.
America! We refuse
To dive like you to our death!
And we refuse to be forced
To be your vile accomplice!
We shall gather against you
East to West and North to South
And we shall fight to our deaths
To save our earth from your claws!
We shall capture your agents
Which you unleashed on the world
To kidnap and to torture
Whom they choose or they suspect!
We shall judge your ruthless troops
Mercenaries who invade
And maim babies of Muslims
For some career benefits!
America! We demand
That you just leave us alone
For the end of a bully
Is terrible to witness!
XV.
We shall gather against you
With our spirit of justice
Against which all of your tanks
Will be useless like boy toys!
We shall call all good leaders
You replaced by dictators!
We shall call the Vietnamese
Who are weeping to this day!
We shall call as witnesses
Argentinians who vanished!
And still those in Palestine
Under siege by your henchman!
We shall call the Iraqis
All four million who have known
The most evil you have done
May their Allah forgive you!
In the land of fifty stars
We shall gather all the souls
Who remained pure and noble
To celebrate your demise!
