Michael Holmboe

 

A MEDAL WITH THE WRONG SIDE UP

 

"One can always win a war, but how does o­ne conquer peace?"

 

This is a poem about Norwegian freedom fighters and its aftermath. Here is a story from a very, very small country rallying to its own defense when it was suddenly attacked by armies which outnumbered its own forces in a very high scale. Quoting Roosevelt: "Look to Norway": o­n April 9, 1940, the same day as the Germans began their massive invasion of this very poorly defended land, the leader of the National Assembly (NS), Vidkun Quisling said in a radio broadcast that he had formed a "national government" with himself as Prime Minister and Foreign Minister. The party he headed had never been represented in the government and had o­nly a few scattered members.

 

Both in Norwegian and in English the word "quisling" immediately became a synonym for traitor. Ideologically the party he led was related to Hitler`s National Socialist Party. It advocated, among other things, the superiority of the Aryan race and participated actively in persecuting the Jews and in terror against the Norwegian civilians who passively or actively worked against the occupation forces and their Norwegian collaborators.

 

The war had cost the lives of 10,000 Norwegians. Nine thousand Norwegians had been prisoners in German concentration camps. Many did not survive. Many came back damaged for life. Of the 760 Norwegian Jews who were sent to Germany, o­nly 24 survived.

 

It`s been said - over and over again - without the Norwegian sailors - Hitler would have won the war. The many dangerous convoy to Murmansk was of outmost vital importance for the allied forces. It was the lifeline of supplies - battling the unfriendly forces of nature - and military enemies:

 

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MEDAL

 

by Michael Holmboe

 

Translated by Ebba Haslund

Honorable member of the Norwegian Author Association

(Den Norske Forfatterforening)

 

He lay o­n a bench in the park,

shamelessly people would think.

The empty bottle sparkled

where he downed his final drink.

 

He sailed during six years of war,

an exiting hazardous game.

The frayed compromise of peace

he never managed to tame.

 

Things seemed easy at first,

when war ended he was not

censured because of his thirst,

although he drank a lot.

 

When exultant cries abound

in such a great amount,

with thousands of heroes around

what does o­ne sailor count?

 

So nothing could really save him

no mercy was ever shown,

that the government graciously gave him

a minor pension is known.

 

Was it oblivion he sought

because he could not understand,

that the country for which he fought

was no longer his native land.

 

People whispered, they shook

their heads and couldn`t care less.

The police at intervals took

him to prison for drunkenness.

 

There was no help anymore,

all sympathy ceased.

One can always win a war,

but how does o­ne conquer peace?

 

They lifted from the bench without sound

his worn-out body but

something fell to the ground -

a medal - the other side up.

 

11/10/06

------------------------------------------
Stйphane Michot

Stйphane Michot born in Paris 1972, is a lecturer of International Law at Sorbonne University Groups. He has founded and is the president of a humanitarian non-governmental organization IDEAL INTERNATIONAL. IDEAL INTERNATIONAL is a member of United Nations Working Group o­n Contemporary Forms of Slavery.

His following set of poems has been inspired by paintings of Lida Sherafatmand, an Iranian-born artist based in Malta, who exhibits internationally o­n the themes of humanity and peace.

As a bilingual poet his poems express the core of love for humanity and peace, light and hope.

Beauty Beyond the Earth

The Bird of Love brings peace to people in this sky of Light,

Our destiny is shining bright in between those protective wings;

Beyond the borders of fight,

We can finally find serenity,

Harmony and peace in this world.

In our arms flowers will replace weapons,

Children will love each other for decades and decades to come,

And replace fights!

We can never forget

The primal nature of which we are made,

Beyond the differences of colour

There is this Bird inside us!

The flight against darkness is inside us,

This bird of hope is inside us,

Our fight to surrender to Light is inside us,

Never forget that our future is our decision inside;

Every o­ne of us carries the responsibility to help the world

To fly o­n the this strong dove;

We cannot accept the desperation of Love,

From your colour difference to mine

Our humanity expresses this deep desire for Peace.

Could peace have a colour?

Maybe white, the colour of all the colours!

May Light and Hope help us reach this

Scintilla in our heart,

And from us bring to the world

This dream,

This promise to fly o­ne day together,

The whole human family, beyond the reality and beyond

The dreams, let’s express our powerful true nature of Peace.

We could offer this precious gift to the world we live in,

So to bring the earth closer to the stars!

Let’s find the Bird of Peace inside of us,

LET’s REACH THE CORE OF OUR SOUL

And never let the Bird of Love die…

Peace is our nature,

For being better together!

January 2005

Working for Peace

This mutual help for peace

Creates harmony in the core of Humanity

The Great Peace as a mother

Protects these children and guides them all.

Escape from darkness to light,

Our future will shine bright,

Effort to re-find a lost wind

That could reach the level of the sky.

The Dove of Peace

Is pure and smiling,

Our energy for this bright destiny

Will transform the sufferings into positive

Dignity.

September 2004

Open Your Heart to Love

A dove of Love and Peace

Through the window of our heart,

Brings Hope to us...

Never close this opportunity,

An eye open to your destiny,

To bring harmony to humanity.

Obstacles are there

Beyond the glass window,

But they will serve us

To learn from each other;

Open yourself to the other,

From individualism to brotherhood

To reach serenity…

Could I belong there

So my heart will give love,

Instead of suffering,

Oh! Please, Spirit of Peace,

Touch my life so it becomes bright,

Together with all of humanity.

September 2004

---------------------------------------------------------------
Takis Ioannides

Children o­n the Crucifix of War

At this fragile turning point in history

The anvil of evil glows so fiery

The souls of children it holds captive

Сasting them o­n flames, durst they live

On another ledge of life in desperation

Love holds out its arms in expectation

In vain, alas, overlooked by ranks

Which, blinded by passion, swagger and swank

Of mortals decision this vision of horror

The hearts of mothers broken by sorrow

And innocent gazes ask in wonder

Why are elders beasts tearing asunder?

Written in Greeks by Takis Ioannides

Translated from the Greek to English by Thalia Bisticas

Peace Culture Through Poetry

Abstract for the International Institution of Sociology 36th World Congress, Beijing, China, July 7-11, 2004

The profound difference between human beings is their ethnic culture - mainly, their cultural heritage, language, literature, poetry, and values. In the case of people in long conflicts as the Israelis and Palestinians - feelings of fear, mistrust and lack of understanding have been piling up in their hearts and minds over the years, o­n both sides.

This paper shows that through poetry, people from both sides of conflicts come to understand each other better, and this understanding can lead to the promotion of peace. o­nly a suitable vehicle that can reach and profoundly penetrate through those layers of mistrust, suspicion and fear, can overcome those separating boundaries and build bridges of trust and respect for each other's humanity. The best vehicle for this delicate operation is the magical healing of the Poem, with its words of comprehension, feelings, care and tenderness. Poems have the ability to build confidence measures and to create bridges of understanding that can dissipate mistrust. Examples from various poems and their contexts will be shown and analyzed.

Ada Aharoni's verses

TO A SUICIDE BOMBER

Deluded, brainwashed suicide bomber
they lied to you
when they brainwashed you
with sleek murderous words
in their stupendous "shahid" washing machines
where they o­nly wash young brains like yours
with bomb-flamed slogans
and rat poison soap-suds
They lied to you when they told you -
you will surely go to heaven
when you courageously blow yourself up,
and kill many, many innocent people -
they lied to you,
and you did not have the courage
to ask them: "if so,
why don't you go?"

One Year To September 11

Fanatic suicide bombers
Burning bright in the furnaces of hatred
Exploding your deathly venom under the sun-
When you assassinated the Twin Towers
And choked the Pentagon o­n September 11 -
You and your cronies failed!
Did you think in your demented minds
That you could destroy modern civilization?
That you could murder not o­nly thousands of
Defenseless people but also this grand lady
The Statue of Liberty herself?
You were duped, for Liberty lives -
And you are wiped out.
She will always live in our lives,
In the creations of poets
In the rainbow songs of children
In fascinating stories and legends
In art, monuments, and joyful dances,
In our internets and peace satellites -
While you are wiped out

YOU AND I
CAN CHANGE THE WORLD

Poetry Collection for the Third Millennium

By Ada Aharoni

Contents

Part I: Women and Peace

Part II: To My Neighbors
.
Part III: Translated Poems by Hebrew Poets and
Four Poems From The Global Village

Rabindranat Tagore (India)
De Haifa Jusqu'au Caire Proche Lointain
The Bridge (in Hebrew)
Eve's Defence (in Chinese)

Part IV: Letters:
To Kadreya: From Haifa to Cairo With Love
To President Anwar Sadat
To Mrs. President, Jehan Sadat

PART 1: WOMEN AND PEACE

Cosmic Woman

They tell us
you were first born
in warm ocean womb
caressed by sun fingers -
daughter perhaps
of the stormy love
of two unruly atoms in love
maddened by the solitude
of eternal rounds
in the steppes of times

And your children,
lively descendants
of their stellar nucleus mother
dropped from the sky
in depths of ocean belly,
born of green and brown seaweed
and the laughs and cries
of a blue bacteria

Cosmic woman,
when you chose earth
as home for your vast roots
at the beginning
of the great human family,
it was for life --
not for death.
Cosmic woman,
you, who were born of the nucleus,
from deadly nuclear mushroom
Save your children
SAVE YOUR CHILDREN

Peace Is A Woman and a Mother

How do you know
peace is a woman?
I know, for
I met her yesterday
on my winding way
to the world's fare.
She had such a sorrowful face
just like a golden flower faded
before her prime.

I asked her why
she was so sad?
She told me her baby
was killed in Auschwitz,
her daughter in Hiroshima
and her sons in Vietnam,
Ireland, Israel, Lebanon,
Bosnia, Rwanda and Chechnya.

All the rest of her children, she said,
are o­n the nuclear
black-list of the dead ,
all the rest, unless
the whole world understands –
that peace is a woman

A thousand candles then lit
in her starry eyes, and I saw –
Peace is indeed a pregnant woman,
Peace is a mother.

Killing Us Softly

"If we are honest with ourselves we have to admit that unless we rid ourselves of our nuclear arsenals a holocaust not o­nly might occur but will occur if not today, then tomorrow ... We have come to live o­n borrowed time."
Jonathan Schell, The Fate of the Earth

We wise grown-ups often advise our children
"Stop fighting, you will hurt each other,"
then calmly proceed to annihilate o­ne another.
We breed black widows with red eyes in our labs.
War is eternal, you say.
Listen, my brother,
War's second cousin, "duelling," o­nce sung immortal,
the peak of honor and reason -
has been banished from our world and is no more.
Slavery, deemed eternal, is no more.
Yet there is so much more left, like killing us softly
with your guns and scuds.
Does a lioness devour her cubs?
Does a gardener destroy his buds?

We breed black widows with red eyes in our labs.
Let's remember in the blood of our temples,
in a nuclear war there are no winners.
Throw War quickly in the historic dirt-bin it deserves,
Let's save our children, cubs and buds before the fall,
or in the nuclear pit we'll all fall.

You Cannot Bomb Me Anymore

Listen, little big man,
you cannot bomb me
anymore
because I don't allow you
to bomb me, nor choke
nor rape me anymore,
for I have my own strength now
and my own creative
peace business now

With this woman's mind
this woman's body
this woman's heart -
we don't allow you
to bomb us anymore
for our sisters in Norway
have shown us the way
and now –
you cannot, cannot, bomb us
anymore.

For it was
the grandmother
who ate the big bad wolf
and not the other way round –

so now
we do not allow you
to bomb us, bomb us,
ANYMORE.

Eve's Defence

You didn't have to accept
That shiny juicy apple
Did you Adam dear?

Please remove those
Musty fig leaves
From your memory and ears
And remember Adam dear,
You were created
From mere earth,
Whereas I was sculpted
From a much finer substance
Finer than ivory
Finer than gold

In the rush of your
Heart's blood
In the throbbing of your temples
Remember Adam dear -
I was created
From pure human bone

Your strong rib-bone
Became me - Eve
Mother of Life

Always remember
Dearest Adam
Free, independent Eve
Is – You.

I Want to Kill You War

I want to kill you war, forever,
not like a phoenix, that always comes back
I want to kill you war
and I don't know how
and I don't know why
all the people of the world
don't join hands
to kill you war --
you the greatest killer
of them all

The governors of the world
Go o­n feeding your fat belly
With fresh soldiers
And nuclear arms,
With blurring eyes
They o­nly know how to hang
The murderers of the o­ne or the two
But not you,
You the greatest murderer of them all.

After the carnage the priest said
"we are all responsible."
After the carnage the Sheikh said
"we all remain brothers."
After the carnage the Rabbi said
"we can stop it if we choose."
The priest and the sheikh and the Rabbi
Raise up their hands and look up to the sky

The peace marchers
Take hold of the slab of marble
On which is inscribed "we want to live not die"
And carry it away under the whizzing bullets
Like a corpse, still warm, still alive.

A Green Week

A week like fresh mint,
a green week spreading
its fragrance to the roots
of being

"Have a green week!"
My father used to bless us
on Saturday nights in Cairo,
when he came back from the "Gates of Heaven"
the grand synagogue in Adli street

"Have a green year"
he beamed,
brandishing a fresh, fragrant mint branch
over our keen curly heads -
but don't keep just to yourselves,
give it back
to the world
fully blossoming.

Who will give me
a green week
now that he's gone?
Now that the Gates of Heaven
are shut?

Dear scientist, don't let the war mongers
steal your research, your unaware souls,
your creation, your bubbling myopic brains.
All our voices radiate in fear
all our violins sing the impending requiem
brewed in your stupendous high-tech labs.
Dear scientist, let our wings flap freely
in fresh, clean breeze in the spring and in the fall
before we all fall into the hellish slumber
of a nuclear winter, from which there is no return.
Dear scientist, don't allow the war mongers
to gobble up your inventions to fatten their stomachs
for star wars and earth wars
or for any, any pitiful war.

Pollution

Dedicated to the memory of Amir Gilboa

"After a nuclear winter the living will envy the dead."
U.N. Peace Exhibition, NYC, 1990

When I see a bird
and I say bird
they say bird

When I hear its song
and I say song
they say song

But when I see our sons
And I say sons
They say soldiers

And when I see bombs
and I say bombs
they say peacemakers

And when I see nuclear pollution
and I say poisoned radiation
they say energy

And when I see nuclear pollution
and I say nuclear holocaust
They say deterrence!

What kind of deterrence
Can be had
When we are all dead?


Mothers You Know

"We can best help you to prevent war not by repeating your words and
following your methods, but by finding new words and creating new methods."
Virginia Woolf - Three Guineas

Mothers you know, a long time ago
have been wisely decreed
by diverse human creeds and needs -
goddesses of peace-in-the-home,
lavishly giving life, love and healing
through their wombs and life-blood

And they have been quite successful
those cosy peace-in-the-home mothers,
closely guarding us with their wisdom
their tender words and watchful eyes.
Surely safer than in a Nuclear War
or in a new World War, or just a tiny war -
so what about making mothers
the guardians of peace o­n earth?
Surely we wouldn't be so much worse?
And they are so available those mothers -
you can even find them in enemy land...

Look at the terrible mess they have
made of our blue planet, mother,
you are the o­nly o­ne who can save it now,
the o­nly o­ne who really knows
how to protect your fearful children
weeping over their drugged ailing world,
the o­nly o­ne who can heal it now, mother
cradling it in your warm, loving arms.

Mamica

You knew Rousseau's "Emile"
Instinctively by heart,
Let us roam barefoot
In golden fields of home,
Sleep with open windows wide

Gave us all you had
With full two hands
Of bedstead copper angels,
Sometimes you forgot to eat
But never to feed us.
Whatever we did or said
Was a diamond mine -
Your children were your little gods.

Even when I left you and France
For a country I loved,
You were not hurt nor angry,
Gave your daughter to the kibbutz
With a smile followed by a tear.

Today we worship you in return,
Like a queen emerging
From Paris metro's belly,
To Bat-Galim shore,
As in Alexandria of yore,
Mother, mamica,
Standing smiling o­n a shell
Crowned by love

Teddy Bears for Guns

My man of the year
Is the wonderful, wise o­ne
Who sat himself in the midst
Of the West with a huge box
Of chubby Teddy Bears
On New Year's Day,
Attracting an endless
Queue of cheering kids -
Holding guns

He playfully showed
With a smile and a wink
And a Teddy Bear hug -
It could be the beginning
Of a honey-laden decade
In a brave new world

By wisely, joyfully trading
Guns
For Teddy Bears.

Amputation

To leave you now
Would be an amputation -
I would survive
But there would be
Less
Of me

Arturo's Rubinstein

"The power of Creation seems to favor human beings who love life
unconditionally, and I am certainly o­ne who does!" Arturo Rubinstein

Today you are ninety Arturo,
And you play us your Rubinstein
Fingers lovingly enlacing
Life's hidden allegro
"Every day is the happiest o­ne for me,
living an intensive life
is my secret -
I've never met a person
As joyful as me!"
My friends wink and say,
"Perhaps that's because
he's never met you !"

I don't think they're right,
But then I think of my engrossing Internet creations
Paving new Horizons of peace among nations,
Suffusing my skies with dazzling global symphonies
Like fresh rain o­n scorched earth
And am filled with -
I'm so glad to meet you,
Dear Mr. Rubinstein!

Mimosa Equality

I wait for the day
Blossoming as a mimosa
When half the world's presidents
Will be women
With caring arms
Enlacing every cry
And the sun will shine
On all mortals
with equal golden rays
in every green field,
every printed book
every human look.

Come closer sisters
hear the man
and what he sang about us

At twelve, a sharp bayonet fear
jabbing through my ribs
tickled my mind:
You are a male,
you will have to go to war,
you may be killed.
Shrieking shells
and giant mushrooms flying
filled my blazing nightfalls.

I looked at the lively girls, envy nibbling,
they will not go to war,
they will not be killed.

But suddenly a flash -
a vision of kitchen sinks
drying of dishes with feminine hair,
a life of soiled diapers . . .

The gun externalized,
I held it with firm fist
and nodded reassured -
But I shall have
the more interesting life.

That's it sisters, that's what he sang,
what he sang about us,
What do we do now with what he sang,
What he sang about us?

Grandmother and the Wolf

Dedicated to Ebba Haslund
my sister from Norway

She looked at me with wise
bluebell eyes
and told me the brothers Grimm
had it all wrong,
they had it all wrong, you see,
for it was the grandmother
who gobbled up the big bad wolf
and not the other way round.

They had it all wrong,
they were too grim,
those brothers Grimm

They had it all wrong,
for grandmothers you see
are very strong.

Bless you Oh Lord
For having made me a woman,
For if you had made me a man
I would have had to pray -
"Bless you Oh Lord for not having
made me a woman."

If a white horse from Jerusalem,
bearing a message from the land of peace
strides so valiantly in the early dawn hours
of my Haifa street,
as if it were the ocean
as if it were the sky -
then all is possible…

Perhaps, he has come
with a magic wand
to make all chains vanish,
and to make you fly with me

Perhaps, before my hair falls
Before my teeth clatter,
before my breath whistles
and I suffocate in nuclear fumes

Perhaps, he will lift us
on his white wings
and raise the world
to year 2000 beyond wars…

For if a white horse
from the city of global peace,
strides so valiantly
in my own street - as if it were the ocean,
as if were the sky
Then all is possible...

Dear Descartes, not o­nly
"I think, therefore I am,"
But mostly, "I create therefore I am."
I am me for having given birth
To my offspring, my oeuvre,
Vibrating sharp, exciting life sparks
In every cell, every branch, every breath,
every entwined root of my being.

Dear Descartes, listen,
I'm a woman, I'm a mother,
I'm a poet, I'm a writer,
I'm the mother of "poetas" -
Therefore, for me it can o­nly be:
"I create, therefore I am."

End of Part 1

Francisco Gomes de Matos

Little poem

Dear Leo,

After accessing and reflecting o­n your Website, here is a little poem, reflecting my initial probing of the ideas in your Mission statement. Note that I coined the term HARMONIZaction by blending the verb HARMONIZE and the noun ACTION. My intended meaning is ACTIONS THAT HARMONIZE, THAT CONTRIBUTE TO HARMONY. Also needed is the term HARMONIZER , as agents of HARMONY. I see a natural affinity between my term HUMANIZER( a person imbued with the ideals of peace, justice, solidarity, compassion, cooperation, understanding,...and who applies such values in varied contexts/situations) and HARMONIZER. To me, what your site is cogently drawing attention to is the need for Society to Educate for Harmony, that is, to engage in the preparation of Human Beings in their vital role as HARMONIZERS. That’s how an applied peace linguist sees it, Leo.

Here is my brief little poem:

LET´S BE HARMONIZERS