| Poems/Prose |
The Dark Continent
by: Taylor MacDonald
I have been forced from my home.
I watched all my possessions burn.
Two of my children are with me, one was left behind.
I pray for him every day to a god I don’t believe could exist anymore.
My daughter was raped.
My husband was tortured and murdered.
Everyday finding food is near impossible.
Thousands of others in the same situation as me have gathered in this
shantytown we now call home.
I live in constant fear that they will return and rip our lives apart again.
If I told you this was happening right now would you believe me?
Would you do all you could to help?
Well all this is going on right now in Darfur as we speak.
I bet you didn’t even know.
If it was happening near you or to people with your color skin you’d do
all you could to help.
So why is Africa any different?
Why is our pain and suffering any different?
Please help us, make us your top priority.
by: Taylor MacDonald
I have been forced from my home.
I watched all my possessions burn.
Two of my children are with me, one was left behind.
I pray for him every day to a god I don’t believe could exist anymore.
My daughter was raped.
My husband was tortured and murdered.
Everyday finding food is near impossible.
Thousands of others in the same situation as me have gathered in this
shantytown we now call home.
I live in constant fear that they will return and rip our lives apart again.
If I told you this was happening right now would you believe me?
Would you do all you could to help?
Well all this is going on right now in Darfur as we speak.
I bet you didn’t even know.
If it was happening near you or to people with your color skin you’d do
all you could to help.
So why is Africa any different?
Why is our pain and suffering any different?
Please help us, make us your top priority.
That’s What You Always Say
By: Jacqueline Kruse
Darfur’s young girls cry,
“Why can’t I go home?”
The Americans’ reply,
“We are going to fix it.”
“That’s what you always say.”
The pleading of a class,
Always to a deaf ear.
Recalling genocides of the past,
“If we would have known…”
“That’s what you always say.”
Unknown numbers dead.
One known number, 2.5 million
Without home or bed.
“The numbers are horrifying.”
“That’s what you always say.”
Numbers can’t tell the story
The nightmare of the bombers,
Followed by their tanks of
Then the most horrifying…
The sound of hoofs.
Janjaweed on camel and horse
Sweep through the city
Without any remorse
“Ethnic cleansing, for the greater good.”
“That’s what you always say.”
Actions speak louder than words.
Is that not what we always say.
They’re moving people in herds,
And what are we doing?
Not enough.
By: Jacqueline Kruse
Darfur’s young girls cry,
“Why can’t I go home?”
The Americans’ reply,
“We are going to fix it.”
“That’s what you always say.”
The pleading of a class,
Always to a deaf ear.
Recalling genocides of the past,
“If we would have known…”
“That’s what you always say.”
Unknown numbers dead.
One known number, 2.5 million
Without home or bed.
“The numbers are horrifying.”
“That’s what you always say.”
Numbers can’t tell the story
The nightmare of the bombers,
Followed by their tanks of
Then the most horrifying…
The sound of hoofs.
Janjaweed on camel and horse
Sweep through the city
Without any remorse
“Ethnic cleansing, for the greater good.”
“That’s what you always say.”
Actions speak louder than words.
Is that not what we always say.
They’re moving people in herds,
And what are we doing?
Not enough.
Untitled
by: Jordan Lemley
People. Running.
When did this begin?
Villages. Burning.
Will we see the end?
Shots. Firing.
Who will save us now?
Flesh. Rending.
Bodies. Piling.
Comfort usurps passion.
Women. Screaming.
Ignorance, strangles truth.
Children. Crying.
Gone the innocence of youth.
Massacre. Happening.
Families. Separated.
Where’s my father?
War. Waged.
Are you a Rebel?
Civilians. Displaced.
Where do we go?
Histories. Erased.
Oil. Extracted.
Mercenaries are paid.
China. Benefited.
Sanctions are subverted.
Arms. Traded.
No notice is taken.
Jets. Deployed.
Hope. Springs.
A movement. Rises.
The laity cry out.
Authority. Notices.
Action is taken.
Darfur. Saved.
by: Jordan Lemley
People. Running.
When did this begin?
Villages. Burning.
Will we see the end?
Shots. Firing.
Who will save us now?
Flesh. Rending.
Bodies. Piling.
Comfort usurps passion.
Women. Screaming.
Ignorance, strangles truth.
Children. Crying.
Gone the innocence of youth.
Massacre. Happening.
Families. Separated.
Where’s my father?
War. Waged.
Are you a Rebel?
Civilians. Displaced.
Where do we go?
Histories. Erased.
Oil. Extracted.
Mercenaries are paid.
China. Benefited.
Sanctions are subverted.
Arms. Traded.
No notice is taken.
Jets. Deployed.
Hope. Springs.
A movement. Rises.
The laity cry out.
Authority. Notices.
Action is taken.
Darfur. Saved.
My Cry
By: Sarah Walterman
For the people of Darfur,
Especially those who are being targeted by the genocide.
Please, world hear my cry.
For those who have lost their lives,
May their spirits watch over those who are still suffering.
Please, world hear my cry.
For the mothers who have lost their children,
May they find hope and peace.
Please, world hear my cry.
For the women who have been raped,
May they find acceptance and understanding.
Please world hear my cry.
For all of those who have been displaced from their homes,
May they find a way to help nations like Darfur.
Please, world hear my cry.
For the citizens of the world,
May they come to learn the value of all human life.
Please, world hear cry.
For all people,
May they become inspired to help others in need.
Please, world hear my cry.
By: Sarah Walterman
For the people of Darfur,
Especially those who are being targeted by the genocide.
Please, world hear my cry.
For those who have lost their lives,
May their spirits watch over those who are still suffering.
Please, world hear my cry.
For the mothers who have lost their children,
May they find hope and peace.
Please, world hear my cry.
For the women who have been raped,
May they find acceptance and understanding.
Please world hear my cry.
For all of those who have been displaced from their homes,
May they find a way to help nations like Darfur.
Please, world hear my cry.
For the citizens of the world,
May they come to learn the value of all human life.
Please, world hear cry.
For all people,
May they become inspired to help others in need.
Please, world hear my cry.
Empty
Stare
By: Cory Kunkel
Thousands of dismal faces stare at you,
Their suffering emanating in the faint glow.
Images of mass graves, mutilated bodies and
grieving survivors
Burn your eyes with their empty stare.
A voice commentates in the background
About a far off region in Africa.
Darfur he calls it, where innocents die
Day in and day out, some being raped first
But all slaughtered like animals.
Genocide, mentioned repeatedly, stings your ears.
Briefly, In the far reaches of your heart
You wish to help these poor, poor faces.
Thoughts of you being in the same situation
Haunt your mind.
It is mentioned as well that people like yourself
Can make a difference. To help stop
The suffering and violence.
With a soft click to your left
The image of a sports game fills the screen.
You needn’t worry anymore
Darfur is somebody else’s problem anyways.
Stare
By: Cory Kunkel
Thousands of dismal faces stare at you,
Their suffering emanating in the faint glow.
Images of mass graves, mutilated bodies and
grieving survivors
Burn your eyes with their empty stare.
A voice commentates in the background
About a far off region in Africa.
Darfur he calls it, where innocents die
Day in and day out, some being raped first
But all slaughtered like animals.
Genocide, mentioned repeatedly, stings your ears.
Briefly, In the far reaches of your heart
You wish to help these poor, poor faces.
Thoughts of you being in the same situation
Haunt your mind.
It is mentioned as well that people like yourself
Can make a difference. To help stop
The suffering and violence.
With a soft click to your left
The image of a sports game fills the screen.
You needn’t worry anymore
Darfur is somebody else’s problem anyways.
Dear Darfur --
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry that until recently I was completely ignorant of all your
suffering.
I’m sorry that the world has learned so little from the past. Time after
time, the world vows “never again,” but nothing ever changes:
Armenians, the Holocaust, Rwanda, and now you too. History shows
these atrocities again and again, but when will there be action?
I’m sorry my country cares so little about the hundreds of thousands
of people who have spilled their blood on your soil. Americans are
more concerned with the matters of celebrity DUIs and football than
with the preservation of their fellow humans.
I’m sorry that I will never know the your people being killed even as
I write this letter. I will never meet that child who is not fast enough
to escape the guns of the oncoming “devils on horseback.” I will
never meet the woman who is raped in front of her children. I will
never meet the man who is decapitated just because he is an
African. I share their humanity, but as I wake in America, they die in
Darfur.
I’m sorry that the world is ignoring your suffering, Darfur. I fear
lessons will be lost again. You will have died in vain. Yet I still have
hope that the world will open its eyes and put an end to genocide
once and for all. I still hope your cries are heard.
I’m sorry, Darfur.
By: Sam Anneken
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry that until recently I was completely ignorant of all your
suffering.
I’m sorry that the world has learned so little from the past. Time after
time, the world vows “never again,” but nothing ever changes:
Armenians, the Holocaust, Rwanda, and now you too. History shows
these atrocities again and again, but when will there be action?
I’m sorry my country cares so little about the hundreds of thousands
of people who have spilled their blood on your soil. Americans are
more concerned with the matters of celebrity DUIs and football than
with the preservation of their fellow humans.
I’m sorry that I will never know the your people being killed even as
I write this letter. I will never meet that child who is not fast enough
to escape the guns of the oncoming “devils on horseback.” I will
never meet the woman who is raped in front of her children. I will
never meet the man who is decapitated just because he is an
African. I share their humanity, but as I wake in America, they die in
Darfur.
I’m sorry that the world is ignoring your suffering, Darfur. I fear
lessons will be lost again. You will have died in vain. Yet I still have
hope that the world will open its eyes and put an end to genocide
once and for all. I still hope your cries are heard.
I’m sorry, Darfur.
By: Sam Anneken
How Many
By: Chelsea Gidden
How many miles could you, would you walk
to escape the greedy hands of Nature’s wrath?
As brutal tyrants take their charge it
seems their grip is tightening still.
How many seconds, minutes, hours could you
remain motionless, hiding, fearing for you life?
Curling into spaces half your size, taking care
with every breath not to expand your lungs too
far and catch the eye of the gunner.
How many lonely hearts of those around you
could you bear until yours shattered too?
The loss of acquaintances, close friends, and
family tears at the hearts of all remaining souls.
How many flames engulfing homes and
entire villages could you witness before
fleeing your own home in terror?
A thick, gray haze swallows the sky as possessions,
How many hoof bears could you hear before
running faster than your beating heart?
You know that they are coming and your
only chance lies in your own soles.
How many times could you choose which
child to save because you can not carry both?
They can not keep up with you and holding
back would be the death of all.
How many bodiless limbs, mutilated children could
you see before losing hope and any notion of sanity?
Collecting the scattered remains of loved
ones blackens the soul and taints the mind.
By: Chelsea Gidden
How many miles could you, would you walk
to escape the greedy hands of Nature’s wrath?
As brutal tyrants take their charge it
seems their grip is tightening still.
How many seconds, minutes, hours could you
remain motionless, hiding, fearing for you life?
Curling into spaces half your size, taking care
with every breath not to expand your lungs too
far and catch the eye of the gunner.
How many lonely hearts of those around you
could you bear until yours shattered too?
The loss of acquaintances, close friends, and
family tears at the hearts of all remaining souls.
How many flames engulfing homes and
entire villages could you witness before
fleeing your own home in terror?
A thick, gray haze swallows the sky as possessions,
How many hoof bears could you hear before
running faster than your beating heart?
You know that they are coming and your
only chance lies in your own soles.
How many times could you choose which
child to save because you can not carry both?
They can not keep up with you and holding
back would be the death of all.
How many bodiless limbs, mutilated children could
you see before losing hope and any notion of sanity?
Collecting the scattered remains of loved
ones blackens the soul and taints the mind.
How many miles could you, should you walk
to help a suffering woman, man, or child?
They are still fellow human beings
regardless of race or religion.
How many pennies, nickels, dimes could
you do without to help those in need?
A day’s pocket change could make a
difference: feed one more, shelter one more.
How many atrocity pictures must you see in
papers and on TV before you become involved?
The worst has yet to be shared and will probably
never be revealed due to overwhelming violence.
How many motley crews must venture to
the source before you hear their cries?
A handful of men can only do so much
when tens of thousands are in peril.
How many blood curdling screams must be lost
in the shuffle until an influential ear takes note?
Their unbearable pain and countless daily
deaths are constantly lowered in priority,
giving way to selfish policies and laws.
How many rallies and protests must you pass or
attend before researching the cause yourself?
With the advances in technology, all you
need to know is merely a click away.
How many deaths must the count reach before
enough have died for action to take place?
The number rises still from 10,000, 50,000,
100,000, and still the conflict stands.
to help a suffering woman, man, or child?
They are still fellow human beings
regardless of race or religion.
How many pennies, nickels, dimes could
you do without to help those in need?
A day’s pocket change could make a
difference: feed one more, shelter one more.
How many atrocity pictures must you see in
papers and on TV before you become involved?
The worst has yet to be shared and will probably
never be revealed due to overwhelming violence.
How many motley crews must venture to
the source before you hear their cries?
A handful of men can only do so much
when tens of thousands are in peril.
How many blood curdling screams must be lost
in the shuffle until an influential ear takes note?
Their unbearable pain and countless daily
deaths are constantly lowered in priority,
giving way to selfish policies and laws.
How many rallies and protests must you pass or
attend before researching the cause yourself?
With the advances in technology, all you
need to know is merely a click away.
How many deaths must the count reach before
enough have died for action to take place?
The number rises still from 10,000, 50,000,
100,000, and still the conflict stands.
| So, how many miles could you, would you, should you walk? Or, is it easier just to stand still? |
Cincinnati for Darfur |
