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The Daily Poetry Movement

Conflict Resolution. I have heard say that if we are to discuss "issues" on indymedia that we won't be a respected News Source. This is laughable. Picking up a gun to resolve a problem is an accepted solution around the globe but if we dare to talk openly with each other we are not respectable? How silly can we be? To what extent will we go to hide from our problems and to hide others? It is my sincere hope that we as a global collective can seek an ameable solution to this. If not.... j/k
Poem
I lived in the first century of world wars.
Most mornings I would be more or less insane.
The news would pour out of various devices
The newspapers would arrive with their careless stories,
Interrupted by attempts to sell products to the unseen.
I would call my friends on other devices;
They would be more or less mad for similar reasons.
Slowly I would get to pen and paper,
Make my poems for others unseen and unborn.
In the day I would be reminded of those men and women,
Brave, setting up signals across vast distances,
considering a nameless way of living, of almost unimagined values.
As the lights darkened, as the lights of night brightened,
We would try to imagine them, try to find each other,
To construct peace, to make love, to reconcile
Waking with sleeping, ourselves with each other,
Ourselves with ourselves. We would try by any means
To reach the limits of ourselves, to reach beyond ourselves,
To let go the means, to wake.

I lived in the first century of these wars.

Muriel Rukeyser
 http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/m_r/rukeyser/rukeyser.htm
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LET'S HAVE A RESOLUTION!

If we can help someone, we won't;
If we can hurt, we shall!
If we can cheer up anyone, who cares?
If we can make upset, get ready my pal!

If we can be polite, we won't be!
If we can be rude, it's what we do well!
If we can handshake, don't bother;
If we can pinch, we feel really swell!

If we can reason, we feel out of season;
If we can coerce, isn't that cool?
If we can welcome, that's old fashioned;
If we can dislodge others, let's make that our tool!

If we can please someone, that's so dull;
If we can annoy, it brings us joy!
If we can bless you, what's that now?
If we can curse you, we are no coy!

If we can have a dialog, that's no fun;
If we can have brawl, let's have some!
If we can charm you, we won't;
If we can harm you, get ready, you bum!

If we can speak softly, who would listen?
If we can wrangle, we definitely shall!
If we can embrace you - what a terrible thought!;
If we can offend you, get ready my pal!

If we are Muslims, no one else is good!
If we are non-Muslims, let's turn the Muslims into food;
If we are Hindus, who else are better?
If we are non-Hindus, demeaning the Hindus is what we should!

If we are freedom fighters, "fundamentalists" must be gone!
If we are humanists, "right to offend" we must protect!
If we are feminists, we need misogyny for justification,
If we are secular, the religious ones have only defect.

If we need a fly-swatter, let's go get a tank;
If we need only reason, let's add little harshness as spice,
If we need just fun, let's grab a gun;
If we really have these as resolutions, won't that be nice?


 http://www.globalwebpost.com/farooqm/writings/poems/my_english/resolution.htm
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Day 1: Emotional Literacy (www.eqi.org/cr.htm)
Activity 1: Generating Vocabulary- (50 min.) Emotional Literacy involves not only the identification of one's feelings, but also the communication of those feelings in a positive, productive way. Learning to express feelings positively will help to control intense emotions so that they do not escalate into conflict situations. Expressing feelings in a productive way helps individuals learn to resolve conflicting situations before they get out of control. The key to expressing one's emotions in such a way is to begin using three word sentences, for example, "I feel sad" or "I feel frustrated".
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Go to the people, live among them,
Learn from them, love them
Start with what they know,
Build on what they have;
But of the best leaders,
When their task is accomplished,
Their work is done,
The people will remark,
"We have done it ourselves."

-Chinese Poem

Disclaimer from MB: I do not know what the editor meant by "Chinese" poem. I just liked it so I passed it along as is. However, no rude intentions on my part are meant by sharing this poem and consider it marked as by anonymous until the author can be located. I left it intact so if anybody wanted to look for the author you would have another clue to start with. J
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Essay on conflict resolution:
 http://www.conflictres.org/vol182/spiritual.html
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MENDING WALL
Robert Frost

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!'
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors'.
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
'Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows?
But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.' I could say 'Elves' to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me~
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."

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Refugee Blues by W H Auden

Say this city has ten million souls,
Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes:
Yet there's no place for us, my dear, yet there's no place for us.

Once we had a country and we thought it fair,
Look in the atlas and you'll find it there:
We cannot go there now, my dear, we cannot go there now.

In the village churchyard there grows an old yew,
Every spring it blossoms anew;
Old passports can't do that, my dear, old passports can't do that.

The consul banged the table and said:
'If you've got no passport, you're officially dead';
But we are still alive, my dear, but we are still alive.

Went to a committee; they offered me a chair;
Asked me politely to return next year:
But where shall we go today, my dear, but where shall we go today?

Came to a public meeting; the speaker got up and said:
'If we let them in, they will steal our daily bread';
He was talking of you and me, my dear, he was talking of you and me.

Thought I heard the thunder rumbling in the sky;
It was Hitler over Europe, saying: 'They must die';
We were in his mind, my dear, we were in his mind.

Saw a poodle in a jacket fastened with a pin,
Saw a door opened and a cat let in:
But they weren't German Jews, my dear, but they weren't German Jews.

Went down the harbour and stood upon the quay,
Saw the fish swimming as if they were free:
Only ten feet away, my dear, only ten feet away.

Walked through a wood, saw the birds in the trees;
They had no politicians and sang at their ease:
They weren't the human race, my dear, they weren't the human race.

Dreamed I saw a building with a thousand floors,
A thousand windows and a thousand doors;
Not one of them was ours, my dear, not one of them was ours.

Stood on a great plain in the falling snow;
Ten thousand soldiers marched to and fro:
Looking for you and me, my dear, looking for you and me.
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Portland Indymedia responds to conflict between SF and Indybay Imc
 http://portland.indymedia.org/en/2004/01/278491.shtml
Turn that frown around. A smile never hurt any one and
Ride your bicycle!
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