Posts Tagged ‘war’

“The Children of Aleppo”

August 9, 2016

The Token Rose

 

The Children of Aleppo

 

There is no childhood in Aleppo.

There are little martyrs-in-the-making

Where 5 year olds and 8 year olds

Wish for a ‘family death’

Where they can die together

With their parents

Where they live in peace in Heaven

Never tasting the fruits of peace on Earth.

 

There is no childhood in Aleppo.

The children haunt the abandoned houses

Of friends who have fled the city.

There they find abandoned teddy bears

While looking for guns for the rebels, their fathers.

 

A dead canary in his cage

Abandoned by its owners

They flee the rockets, bombs

And mortars.

In the face of daily death

The sight of this bird

Evokes a child’s sorrow.

The gunfire outside continues

(They are used to the noise)

And huddle in the pockmarked

Halls until safe to scatter.

 

 

The children of Aleppo

Have no teachers, doctors.

These have fled the cities, schools

But they still pine for ice cream,

For music in the streets,

For curtains not torn by violence,

For books and toys

And gardens and flowers,

For friends that have not died

Innocent blood splattering

The dirty cobble stones

At their feet.

 

The children of Aleppo

Are free and children again

Only in their dreams,

And perhaps, if you believe so,

After death.

 

How do you put back the brains

Of a child in the cup of the shattered skull?

How do you soothe the howls of the mothers

The groans of the fathers in grief?

How do you comfort surviving siblings?

 

The children of Aleppo

Have no future as children.

Suffer the little children here,

They are the sacrifice of parents

And factions,

And politicians

All with the blood of

10,000 children

Who have died

In a country torn

By immeasurable violence.

 

The beautiful children of Aleppo

Like children everywhere

Still want to chase each other

In the gardens, on playgrounds,

Want to dance in the streets,

Want to pluck flowers for their mothers

And they still pine for ice cream.

 

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2014-2016

Yesterday a bombing of a hospital in Quetta, Pakistan.  Today the children of Aleppo still have no water, food or secure escape from a city that is pulled apart by violent forces of war.  How many children will be sacrificed? The children of the Holocaust and the Muslim children today are our ‘lost’ generation.  Muslim and Jew, no difference, death is not picky.

“The Children of Aleppo”

May 3, 2016

backyard 4

How many men have left Syria for ‘a better life’?  How many young Syrian men are in Europe ‘looking for economic opportunities’,  while children of Aleppo are killed daily?

 

The Children of Aleppo

 

There is no childhood in Aleppo.

There are little martyrs-in-the-making

Where 5 year olds and 8 year olds

Wish for a ‘family death’

Where they can die together

With their parents

Where they live in peace in Heaven

Never tasting the fruits of peace on Earth.

 

There is no childhood in Aleppo.

The children haunt the abandoned houses

Of friends who have fled the city.

There they find abandoned teddy bears

While looking for guns for the rebels, their fathers.

 

“Oh, the poor thing!”

A dead canary in his cage

Abandoned by its owners

They flee the rockets, bombs

And mortars.

In the face of daily death

The sight of this bird

Evokes a child’s sorrow.

But the gunfire outside continues

(They are used to the noise)

And huddle in the pockmarked

Halls until safe to scatter.

 

 

The children of Aleppo

Have no teachers, doctors.

These have fled the cities, schools

But they still pine for ice cream,

For music in the streets,

For curtains not torn by violence,

For books and toys

And gardens and flowers,

For friends that have not died

Innocent blood splattering

The dirty cobble stones

At their feet.

 

The children of Aleppo

Are free and children again

Only in their dreams,

And perhaps, if you believe so,

After death.

 

How do you put back the brains

Of a child in the cup of the shattered skull?

How do you soothe the howls of the mothers

The groans of the fathers in grief?

How do you comfort the left-alive siblings?

 

The children of Aleppo

Have no future as children.

Suffer the little children here,

They are the sacrifice of parents

And factions,

And politicians

All with the blood of

10,000 children

Who have died

In a country torn

By immeasurable violence.

 

The beautiful children of Aleppo

Like children everywhere

Still want to chase each other

In the gardens, on playgrounds,

Want to dance in the streets,

Want to pluck flowers for their mothers

And they still pine for ice cream.

 

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2014-2016

Dark Days in Europe. Terror Attacks in Paris last night….

November 9, 2015

 What has happened in Paris is unbelievable.  Well coordinated attacks on sites of mostly young people, with the purpose of creating fear and panic. Am I surprised? No, just shocked. It was bound to happen and won’t be the last time.  Open borders where people are not checked, no passports, no real history of their actions and behavior in their home countries….though at the present time it looks like these were French Muslim terrorists. It’s not like the world wasn’t warned as to what was coming: it’s just that people put it aside, believing it would happen ‘elsewhere’, that the threat and action of this savage violence wouldn’t affect them.  But it does, and it will again. No country is ‘safe’ from this sort of violence. The terror is already here and people feel like sitting ducks.  Our hearts are with the French people but our heads should be pulled out of the sand.  Extreme violence such as we have seen in Paris, etc. will call for extreme measures from our governments.  The safety of our citizens and country depend upon a clearer understanding of what the world is facing.  We are not an island.

No one can ignore what is happening in Europe these days. Perhaps if you live under a rock you can, but most of us don’t. I am more than concerned, alarmed actually, at the news stream of photos where we see floods of immigrants travelling by sea and walking over countries with babies and children in tow. Elderly on crutches, pushed in wheelchairs. One Syrian woman was reported to be 105 years old.

80% of these immigrants are young men, from 18-35, single, looking for economic opportunities. A third are from Syria. The rest from Afghanistan, Iraq, the Sudan, Bosnia, Albania, and other parts of Africa. The Syrians yell and curse the US and the world for “not overthrowing Assad and ISIS”, yet they leave Syria, etc. because ‘they want a better life’. The majority of these are educated (the men) saying they are doctors, pharmacists, lawyers, engineers, and they can’t get a ‘better life’ in their home countries. Well, yes, there is a civil war going on, and they want no part of it. Some say, ‘when it is safe’, they will return to Syria because they love their home country. Just not enough to organize and fight for it. For others to shoulder the burden. They consider themselves the professionals, the elite. And they don’t want to be conscripted by either side.

Germany has said that they will take 800,000 of the immigrants (Actually 1 million). Germany is smart because these are the more ‘acceptable’ of the immigrants: more middle class, even upper class, wealthy Syrians, educated. What is left behind in the camps in Jordan, Turkey, Syria, etc. are the people who are too poor to pay smugglers to get them to the EU. This is the real crisis awaiting the news sometimes writes about and they are legion.

Of course, we don’t know what the German people think of this, but I would think it would be along the thought of “Um…no.” And as far as ‘why don’t the Saudis take these Islamic people in their own country? (Along with the other Islamic countries…) These immigrants are the ‘wrong type’ of religious Muslims. No relief for their ‘fellow’ Muslims, but the Saudis are willing to build 1000 mosques in Germany.

Two or so years ago I read “Savage Continent” by Keith Lowe. It detailed the mass migrations across Europe and the Balkans after WWII. War basically started in the Balkans, and it looks like history will repeat itself. For anyone seriously concerned about what is happening right now, I would strongly suggest reading this powerful and disturbing book.

My greatest concerns are for the children, dragged across countries, babies and small children, and those  who drown in open seas and die of disease along the road. They are the true refugees. They are innocent of all politics. In my opinion, that is where immediate concern should be placed.

There is also the issue of these ‘people smugglers’.  Opportunistic criminals who take enormous amounts of money from desperate people and then abandon them, jump out of boats when they are sinking.  They need to be rounded up and prosecuted.  But they are legion and who is funding them?

What of the hospitals in Europe? In Germany, especially in cities like Munich, Hamburg, etc., where migrants are flooding, the hospitals and staff are failing fast.  According to doctors, they are seeing diseases that they haven’t seen for over 20 years and don’t have the means of addressing such quantities in the migrants.  TB looms large, scabies, a couple of suspected cases of Ebola,      syphilis, mental illness and depression are just some of the diseases of these migrants carry. Medical staff  are exhausted and migrants are frustrated at the speed of medical care  received.  Police have to try to secure the hospitals yet pharmacies are raided and drugs stolen. There have been brawls, and outright riots between migrants:  Syrian fighting Iraqis, Afghans fighting Sudanese.  And  none of these Muslims tolerate the Christian migrants amongst them……

Already over 7000 migrant men have disappeared from the camps in Germany, etc.  Where did they go?

The ‘camps’ are terrible.  The sanitation is substandard, migrants complain about the food, and  complain  “Europe is too cold, and too many people.”  Well,  yeah.  Who ever lied about the paradise of Europe back home should have been taken with a large ton of salt.  It’s not clear to me how this vast migration started, but there are migrants that are not coming from war zones: Albanians, Serbians, Kosovars, Pakistanis, and  countries in Africa.  These seem like economic migrants to me and to many others I would believe.

Winter in Europe will challenge reindeer.  It’s supposed to be a bad one, too. And these migrants don’t want to settle in ‘boring’ Finland.  “No bars, nothing to do.”  I thought Muslims were not supposed to drink alcohol?

“We were promised apartments, homes, cars, money, free education and medical.  Europe doesn’t care about us.  We want our money.” (Your money?  It’s the taxpayers of these  host countries who are feeding you.  What in Hell are you contributing here?

The German (and Swiss, Swedes, Finns) welcomed these migrants with open arms a few short months ago.  Now?  These Islamic migrants seem more like an invasion.  They ‘shop’ for a country that gives the most benefits.  Where in modern history are borders so porous that people are not expected to show papers, visas, passports?  Greece, Serbia, Hungary’s forests and shores are littered with discarded passports.  Even Syrian passports, and I can’t understand this at all, especially if Syrians are given primary consideration.

The rise of anti-migrant demonstrations all over Europe and the rise of neo-Nazi groups have not been seen since WWII.  This is not predicated only on hatred, but mostly on fear.  Nationalism plays a role here, too.  However, in some countries, cities like Malmo, Sweden, now the ‘Rape Capitol of the World’, 95% of the rapes are by Muslim men.  They bring medieval mentalities towards women and their contempt and violence are being felt by Europeans  Muslim women already know the drill.

There is no pleasing and no stopping of the numbers. They complain of the pasta in Italy and the potatoes in Germany. Yesterday I saw a video:  A Iraqi man complaining about  a plate of food:  “No man would eat this, not even a dog.  This women would eat.”  Says something about this culture’s misogyny.

Europe is overwhelmed, and what really makes people mad is that these other rich Muslim nations refuse to take in any of their religious kind.  Perhaps they are wiser than the welcoming Europeans.

Mother Merkel’s plan was to put these people to work, to pay for the aging German’s pensions, etc.  That won’t happen.  These people don’t seem to assimilate easily into their host countries. And if Merkel thinks they will ‘start at the bottom’, she has something to learn.  So do the rest of the ‘do-gooders’ of Europe.

This situation won’t end well.  Religion and ideologies are at war.  And they always have been. In six months time, the shit will really hit the fan:  they (especially the young men…) will be bored and restless.  Good fodder for the bad influences of destructive forces already there.  And unemployment in Europe is still a serious factor for the native Europeans.  The vast majority of migrants will find the going very rough.

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2015

“Gallipoli, 1915” … For All Memorial Days, regardless which War.

May 24, 2013
Daniel Wood, 2004

Daniel Wood, 2004


“Are you joining up, mate?”
“Why? It’s the Brit’s war”.
“Cause Aussies are part of the empire, ‘one for all’…you know the drill”.

Both young men soon in the trenches, barely eight meters from the enemy.

“Hasim, leave off the plowing, we all go to fight the British.”
“My wheat will not be planted in time for the rains.”
“Forget the planting…leave the plowing to the women. If you don’t go, the infidels will take your fields… Once more our country will be invaded.”


Both young men crawled into their trenches, pushing past bodies bobbing like apples in gore.

The slaughter was horrific. New men replaced dying men. Then, within hours, they too were dead.

The trenches filled with blood, guts, madness – a stinking circle of Hell serving all faiths, welcoming all comers. Plenty of seating.

The Aussie mates and the Turkish farm boys didn’t last the night. Their bodies, shoved aside by a seemingly endless supply, sank in the mud.

These were the “Founding myths” of nations, claimed with pride by politicians who never saw the muck or gave their lives in battle.

Beautiful Gallipoli.

Turkish soil and streams nourished by the mixed fruit of the dead.

To All Mothers: your children rest in the now gentle bosom of the land. They sleep as brothers. Your tears feed the oceans– forever.


Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyright, 2007, 2012, 2013 and into the future as war doesn’t seem to quit.

“Gallipoli, 1915”

May 28, 2012

Five years ago I wrote this for Memorial Day. It is anti-war, as a mother I have a 24 year old son in the US Navy, now somewhere in the Horn of Africa.  I post this in tribute to my father, my deceased in-laws and to my belief that war brings no good to any nation.

Lady Nyo 

“Are you joining up, mate?”

“Why? It’s the Brit’s war”.

“Cause Aussies are part of the empire, ‘one for all’…you know the drill”.

Both young men soon in the trenches, barely eight meters from the enemy.

————- 

“Hasim, leave off the plowing, we all go to fight the British.”

“My wheat will not be planted in time for the rains.”

“Forget the planting…leave the plowing to the women.  If you don’t go, the infidels will take your fields… Once more our country will be invaded.”

Both young men crawled into their trenches, pushing past bodies bobbing like apples in gore.

The slaughter was horrific.  New men replaced dying men. Then, within hours, they too were dead.

The trenches filled with blood, guts, madness – a stinking circle of Hell serving all faiths, welcoming all comers.  Plenty of seating.

The Aussie mates and the Turkish farm boys didn’t last the night.  Their bodies, shoved aside by a seemingly endless supply, sank in the mud.

These were the “Founding myths” of nations, claimed with pride by politicians who never saw the muck up close or personally.

 

***************************** 

Beautiful Gallipoli.

 Turkish soil and streams nourished by the mixed fruit of the dead.  

All Mothers, your children rest in the now gentle bosom of the land. They sleep as brothers. Your tears feed the oceans forever.

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyright, 2007, 2012

Veteran’s Day, and a short piece: “Gallipoli, 1915”

November 11, 2010

In the US it’s Veteran’s Day today, originating I believe on November 11, 1919….from the war that was supposed to end all wars, WWI.  It didn’t but people were hopeful back then.

Bill Penrose, a good friend and excellent writer, is up in Canada attending to his father-in-law who is 95 years old.  He’s doing fine, both of them,  and tells me today is Memorial Day in Canada. Old men are wearing their uniforms, or parts of them, and metals are prominent.  Bless them all.

Our only child, a son,  is in the Navy, now almost a year.  We haven’t seen him since early December, and hope he will be home for Christmas.  He’s been in Glasgow, Scotland, the last time we heard from him, and should be back in Norfolk soon.

Gallipoli was horrific enough, and I post this piece, what is called a ‘flasher’ of 200 words here in remembrance of all veterans…living and dead.

Lady Nyo

GALLIPOLI, 1915

“Are you joining up, mate?”

“Why? It’s the Brit’s war”.

“Cause Aussies are part of the empire, ‘one for all’…you know the drill”.

Both young men soon in the trenches, barely eight meters from the enemy.

“Hasim, leave off the plowing, we all go to fight the British.”

“My wheat will not be planted in time for the rains.”

“Forget the planting…leave the plowing to the women.  If you don’t go, the infidels will take your fields… Once more our country will be invaded.”

Both young men crawled into their trenches, pushing past bodies bobbing like apples in gore.

The slaughter was horrific.  New men replaced dying men. Then, within hours, they  too were dead.

The trenches filled with blood, guts, madness – a stinking circle of Hell serving all faiths, welcoming all comers.  Plenty of seating.

The Aussie mates and the Turkish farm boys didn’t last the night.  Their bodies, shoved aside by a seemingly endless supply, sank in the mud.

These were the “Founding myths” of nations, claimed with pride by politicians who never saw the muck up close or personally.

*********************************************************

Beautiful Gallipoli.

Turkish soil and streams nourished by the mixed fruit of the dead.

All Mothers, your children rest in the now gentle bosom of the land. They sleep as brothers. Your tears feed the oceans forever.

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyright, 2007, 2010


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