Sunday, July 20, 2008


There is a curse,
So ultimately huge, that it has taken two decades for the human race to unlock,
Ladies and Gentlemen:
I call to you,
My fellow brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, soldiers, daughters, sons, peacemakers,
I call to you to question your freedom,
Not the freedom president Bush proclaims,
That’s not my freedom,
I’m talking about the word,
The speech,
The preach,
To critique,
To question,
To hold,
Your own voice,
Your own creed,
The bleeding bold that is exalted, merciless, bold and beautiful,
We are a not alone,
We are Burma,
A country, A cause, A curse, A call,

My dear friends, today I am asking you to answer that call,
This is no ordinary call,
We are all Burma,
We are all children,

We are 50,000 hostages,
We are 3,000 burnt villages,
We are a noble peace prize laureate locked in a home,
We are a people,
We are a nation of Buddhist Monks and Nuns,

But there is so much more to the people of Burma,
There is a soft spoken world of inquiry and worry,
The soldier child who is bitter for his orphaned world,
SPDC has taken all our boys and girls,

Some man, one bad man, and yes he is one who forces himself on others.
That kind of man.
A man who stole a promise,
A damn demise filled with fear.

Fear of tomorrow,
Of public, of his neighbor, of his
Senior General Than Shwe.


What does this mean to me and my decree?

Why to you should this seem to be?





Or alarming?

I find it horrific.

Blood stained history that is a reality and a present that must stop.





When did the people of the world react when we perished in Auschwitz?

How did the world tremble when Pharaoh trapped us in slavery?

Like an escalated storm, like a D-Day.

But, we wait.

We wait for the rain.

While we drown in weather shaped like our demise,

And to no surprise, our ships turned around as the people of Burma drowned.

Thousands not found.

Thousands left buried in the ground.

Question to you in the crowd.

How do you know?

How do you know about Burma?

Was it the Saffron Revolution?

Was it the call that was not heard?

Was it the TV?

Was it the radio?

Where were you first?

Me, I found my Burmese brother, Han Lin, preparing for Hunger Strike outside our prestigious





An organization.
But promises that they gave to him,
As they give to all that they believe true,
Is that we will do our best to help you.

But where are we to see,

The UN Security Blocked by the dealer,

The dealer.

Arms to your children.

Force it upon them.
Force it upon them.

We can give the dealer a vote,
but not the only vote to stop the war storm, Myanmar.

No comments: