Tears of My Heart Sing to Vieques

Tears of My Heart Sing to Vieques

The depth of anguish,
the stabbing pain of despair,
the bitter root of stolen loves and lives...
broken bodies, broken souls,
... all the promise Spirit had to offer you and yours,
the devastation of your homeland both of people and of earth,
the continued walking through the warplains of the oppressor who continues to hunt you and yours---
and those like you down...
while the mass of people of the oppressor blindly live lives unknowning
and mostly uncaring...
unhearing of your heart's cries and screams...
never knowing a man...
a broken but still standing warrior...
wails and cries out...

....is heard.

I hear....
but I am a simple woman...
one who offers friendship and heart...
spirit gifts...
human gifts...

My sister hears...
one who cares deeply for all peoples..
for the words of our ancestors that the time of changes is now upon us...

Our village here hears....
may we sit beside you...
even if only in heart and spirit...
sit and hear your agonized howls into the night and day...

May I howl with you?
May we all?

Your loss is my loss...is our loss.
Your pain my pain...our pain

How much have we lost through the willful evil and enforced cruelty of a dominator system.
How much we lose as it continues.

But it will not always be so.
Spirit tells us the time of change is upon us.

Please allow me to sit with you...tears falling down...
Please allow my tears somehow to feed your heart...
May my song of sorrow fill your ears...
May my tears seep into your dry and parched wounds...

Tears...down into the bones...
Tears....down in to the bones...
Tears... down into the bones...
Tears...down into the bones...

Bones please live.
Bones please arise again.
Bones please live.
Bones of life again.

May the song of my heart grant you a measure
of hope.
of solace.
of balm.
of peace.

Copyright 2000, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw. All rights reserved.

Woodland’s Parrot Rifles Stand Watch

Woodland’s Parrot Rifles Stand Watch

Is ever war fiercer than when fought against your own?
Is ever hatred deeper than when it’s felt deep in the bone?
Are ever fires much hotter than when flamed against your kin?
Are ever passions keener than when fighting for what has been?

Parrot rifles, mow them down,
Let none survive this wrath.
Keep raiders from riding town to town
On the Morgan path.

Are ever fears more freezing than when bound around with guilt?
Are ever denials more prevalent than when in the system built?
Is ever freedom dearer than when it’s bought with a life?
Has ever American seen more horrors or more strife?

Parrot rifles, now witness
The secret stories well told
Of Campbell’s house upon the side
Of tracks of Underground Railroad.

Do ever hatreds cease to be after the last battle fought?
Or, do they linger, festering on, like some gangr’ous plot?
Do the wrongs ever get put right or the sorrows be dwindling?
Or does the suffering await a match just like a pile of kindling?

Parrot rifles, stand your watch
On Woodland’s overhanging plot.
Let not your stories e’er be silenced
Nor those who fought forgot’.

© Copyright, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw, 2000.
All rights reserved.

My Various Thoughts on "The Kill Team"

The article in Rolling Stone:

The Kill TeamHow U.S. soldiers in Afghanistan murdered innocent civilians and mutilated their corpses – and how their officers failed to stop them. Plus: An exclusive look at the war crime photos censored by the Pentagon
http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/news/the-kill-team-20110327

My various thoughts on this article and heartbreakingly evil tale:

When the aim of boot camp is to break the spirit of the human recruit, to instill an "obey at all costs automatically" reflex, to despise the "enemy" (including "Suzy Q",) -- in short to become an efficient killing machine, it is no surprise to find the human then loses a sense of morals, develops a ruthlessness & a cold-bloodedness, etc. That is what allows the human to kill other humans and to destroy whole environments without qualm.  Deep down almost all soldiers and combatants know the evil they did willingly or were forced to do when, perhaps, their reasons for joining in the first place were nobler or even out of desperation (economic terrorism comes to mind.) And, PTSD hits hard once the traumas of war hit that inner core of the human. Some will never ever recover. None come out without very deep gaping wounds in their minds, hearts, and spirits.

And yet, humans seem to want to kill each other over so many things-- greedy things, covetous things, jealous things, stupid things... "I am better than you because I can maim, torture, and kill you if you don't do what I say, hand over all I want from you, or just get in my way at the wrong time." Psychopaths may lead and start the wars, and are so cowardly not to fight in them themselves, but the ones who go into combat are most often volunteers, willing to kill, maim, torture, and be killed, maimed, tortured, etc. for ... what? A paycheck? Honor? Glory? Lies. All lies.

And my heart breaks for the soldiers, for their victims, for us all. We are all culpable in this. All of us. Hatred and evil are equal opportunity inhabitants of humans.

And so the soldiers come home with PTSD and the learned skills of destroying life. Many turn to abuse - of others or of self. Many go insane to find some escape from the terror of what the saw and what they did. No one at home recognizes the returning soldier really. How could someone not familiar with all out evil really know that deep abyss the soldier is trying to return from? But, that does not excuse that we all sent the soldier out to do exactly what was done. Nor does it excuse our refusing to take the soldier back and care for those many deep wounds. We sent them out to die period.

I am not anti-military. We need a defense, especially since humans are as we are. But, I am anti-militarism. I am pro-peace and pro-non-violence. We humans must learn a new way of being. We must learn to stop making war and violence. We must learn how to forgive and be compassionate, to show mercy while keeping justice. We must or perish together. We can do it. The question is will we?

29 March 2011, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw