Somewhere Else The Birds Are Singing
He managed to open the shutters a little way
but the gap was smaller than he expected.
He eased his head and shoulders inside.
The rest of him,
his arse and legs,
covered in a blanket
then, as dawn broke,
covered once more
by a blanket of early spring snow.
He was hungry.
He was always hungry.
Somewhere the birds are singing
the birds are singing.
Once, in Ireland one million died
and we’re still counting.
One million fled
for their lives
and we’re still counting.
Equivalent to the population
starvation ruled the land.
Starvation ruled the land in Ireland
when the potato crop was blighted.
Without potatoes there was no food.
Without potatoes there was no money for food.
Without money for rent colonial landlords evicted,
slave labour of starving men women and children
followed the rule
And no help came.
No Aid came
to help them.
potatoes were exported.
the landlords did well.
All the colonialists did well.
They always do.
So Ireland knows how it feels
in the depth of its turf,
in the depth of its being,
its rock, its stones, its bones
it knows the story
and that change will come
with survival first
one step at a time
words and money
can effect change
as readily as weapons,
that time the past shows
is the time to make a stand
against political manoeuvring
against another respected decision
un-welcomed again by the most powerful.
History shows the time to make a stand.
For Ireland knows
how lives are blighted.
First published in New Verse News, January 2024
Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net and a Rhysling Award. www.lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com and www.facebook.com/Lynn-White-Poetry
War and Hunger
You fight a war
To be a so-called winner.
But, can you free yourself
From the clutches of demon hunger?
Against the backdrop of
Destruction and rubble.
The ever-crying hungry eyes
Become silent and feeble.
War spares no one
Dwellers of the slum
Or the owner of a mansion.
When natural disasters pay a visit
Can you measure its limit?
Why create hunger on our own, then
In the name of just war, when we're to blame
Flexing muscles to show
Superiority that's so obscene!
Stop this thoughtless act and
Fight hunger together for our own good.
Make the earth green and hunger-free
And ensure every stomach gets food.
Minati Pradhan writes poems, short stories and essays in English and Odia languages. Her interest areas include nature, gender equality, women’s empowerment, education, social justice and spirituality. Her poetic insights are thought-provoking and compel the readers to take a new perspective. Two of her books- collections of poems, have been published. She has co-authoured two books of essays and one of stories and six of poems and co-edited one book of essays. Her poems, short stories and essays have been published in many magazines and newspapers. She has presented her essays, research papers and poems in various seminars and workshops. She is also a certified counsellor who specializes in guiding the parents of differently-abled children.
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