The Promised Land for Both Jews and Palestinians
Jews and Palestinians
Share the common story of exile
Of wandering in the desert, uprooted
Slaughtered, silenced, driven out!
They both share the common hope
To dwell in the Promised Land,
Flowing with milk and honey
Living in peace and prosperity!
Not by the Mandate of Partition by Balfour
Not by agreements of manipulative coercion
Not by the Intifida of hate and destruction
Not by the tentacles of fear and terror
Nor by the summons of super powers
Around negotiating tables
Can bring Jews and Palestinians closer
To the portal of their longed Promised Home.
But it is in seeing themselves
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poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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We Have Danced Tango
We have danced tango in exploiting the earth
We stamp our feet as we move to explore
the whole dancing space on the stage
We only look into the gaiety in our own eyes
as we seek to declare ourselves the winner
in our mastery of the magical move of our body
We explore the mother earth, making believe
that the whole stage is ours to exploit without limit.
With the rhythm of our tango dance
we create atom bombs and other weapons
for the countless crowd
We choke the trees, plants and animals
with our inventions and chemicals
We stuff our water and air
with poison and carbon from our own hands.
We continue to dance our tango dance
claiming that the whole stage is ours.
And we dance and dance our tango dance
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poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Conquest at the Hospice
For saying yes to be admitted
into the hospice, she has actually
accepted the seriousness of her
health case, that she is now
at the mouth of death.
She sends sms to dear friends
not telling that she is right at
the hospice but only wishing them
all the best in life that they
may keep their trust in God
to the very end of their days.
She knows how her daughters
have been saddened by her case
The medical treatment at the hospital,
taken so diligently each passing day,
has not really relieved her from
the agony in her mortal body.
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poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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The Day After The Hurricane
And they return home
after the quick evacuation
home to their homelessness,
home to the loss of their properties
built up for years and decades
now pounded and crumpled by waves.
And they return home,
home to their parks and businesses
bulldozed by giant monsters in the night.
And they return home
home to their ports and shores
finding houses of their neighbors
uprooted and thrown into deep seas.
And they return home,
home to their childhood and memories
recorded in albums and documents
videos, CDs and files in computers
now drowned by waters
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poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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US Presidential Race
Hear ye all in the North, the South,
The East and the West, hear ye, hear!
Hear the great event in the annals
of USA, the Giant Power in century!
After the dark Halloween and
the real horror of the Great Hurricane,
the American people will cast their ballots
for a president of their best choice.
Barack Obama and Mitt Romney
dominate attention on the stage and on
the screens; small children get tired
of their mumblings and hope that
their noise will soon end.
Rallies are held in many states
to harvest more electoral votes
Both candidates boast of their
great power and calibre
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poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Precious Moments of Mothering
Here inside this church
We sat on the same pew.
While others focused
their eyes at the front aisle
and towards the pulpit,
here beside me, I found
this woman cuddling
her own baby.
She held her child
close to her bosom,
hugged her
with all her warmth,
whispered words
to her ears
and drowned her child
with her loving smiles.
The child giggled,
closed her eyes and slept,
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poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Rescued Chile Miners, A Miracle of Faith
From August 5 to October 13
in the year of our Lord 2010
69 days you were held in prison
down deep in earth's dungeon.
69 days of stolen rays of
the sun and stolen valleys of rest
33 miners you were buried alive
in earth's seven hundred meters-deep.
Who could have imagined
finding you alive and still
with your spirits up high?
Who could have imagined
that the tears of your loved ones
and those of your countrymen
could be changed to the cymbals
of dancing and rejoicing?
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poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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SQUATTERS (Slum-Dwellers)
We cleaned the Dorm this morning
and found the dead rat
The Matron said it stank
and must be thrown out.
I suggested a good grave
but she said,
"Throw it into the garbage."
I pity the innocent rat
helpless at the dreadful
claws of the cat.
So we argued.
She said, "Rats are dreadful!
and cats are the protectors! "
She complained about her loss
Mentioned about the her torn,
Tattered rags and cartoons.
She said, "Rats must be exterminated
That the City of man gets rid
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poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Peace Award to Barack Obama
Awarded to one head of nation
Who thinks he doesn't deserve
But feels honoured to be
in the company of those
who in centuries have worked for peace.
Awarded to one head of a nation
with his shared vision on peace
in political campaigns, dialogues
and speeches, a shared aspiration
of all the international communities..
An award to one head of states, worthy
to be shared with those who actively
and silently have worked for peace
and upheld the dignity of all persons
irrespective of their colour, sex and ages.
A Nobel Peace Prize of Peace to Obama,
a common award worthy to be shared
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poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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The Tears of Masho
She gave her child away
She had AIDS, they say
Her children should have
Parents to care of them
when she by death
should say goodbye to life.
And her dear own child was
sent to adoption
to a far away land, to a land
she had never been before-
A strange paradise
for her child and which
She as mother could not reach
by her bare feet or sandals.
She did not get the
address of the new parents
She could not write
them in her own tongue
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poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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