Burma Digest Current Issue

Printable Version

When your own homeland was poisonous to you

I thought that this poem I wrote after reading, From the Land of Green Ghosts by Pascal Khoo Thwe in December of 2002, is still appropriate with brutal killings and imprisonments still taken place in Burma.

Imagine Burma, where POWER is not for sale

How life has been merciless

When your own homeland was poisonous to you?

False hopes and endless despair

Tears of iron

Could not wash away the

Blood entrenched jungle paths that

Led you out of your motherland’s

Ruthless,

Ambitious willingness to sacrifice You

A beautiful child of a Paradise No More

Someone was watching over you

To come through

Such a horrendous Hell

More Or less Unscathed

Heavy burden You will bear

To carry your fellows

To show the world

They are there still crossing

With their babies on their back

Such a bloody path

Of such peaceful people

Betrayed

Dominated

Deceived

By a motherland that used

You

It was worse than If they were

Your Worst Enemy

Motherland

Had gone

Headed

The wrong way

Corrupt

Heartless

Unimaginable Ruthless hold on to power

Power

That

Eternally Transformed

The actions

From Human

To Beasts.

The umbilical

That fed them To become such

Menace For Power

Colonialism

Fascism

Monarchy

Cannibalism

Atheism

Buddhism

Capitalism

Communism

Socialism

Christianity

Hinduism

Islamism

Judaism

Confucianism

The imprints of history

Entrenched with

Strangle hold on to Power.

At any cost,

Ready to

Kill, Deceive, Sacrifice

The whole kingdom

Of human tribes

Desperate

Despair

Humankind

Without the sky

There is no horizon

No jewels

For our

Future Child

Drunk with misery,

Felt the faraway blow on each and everyone

While absent from your motherland

Unused to be free

Free, Freedom

Freedom to morn

Morn the lost

The lost free Generation That has not existed

Existed in this life time

Freedom to be free

Free of pain

Inflicted by greed

Greed for power

Power over Her own child

Her own country My Homeland

Freedom to be brave

Brave enough

To speak back

To my motherland

Though With respect and love

In Burmese, In Buddhist Fashion

Freedom To Make my own mistakes

Freedom To Decide my own fates

Freedom To Change when necessary

For The future of the children Of our motherland

The voices Voices Voices that was from

The grand ethereal galaxies of motherland tribes

Had spoken

Spoken with their Courage, Blood, Unimaginable sacrifices

Sacrifices, Sacrifices of angels

Leaving their paradise

Warmth fireside

Hopes And dreams Of The young eternal lives

She had knocked on our door

Brought with her

The fresh freedom

As plenty as The bells on top of

Our whitewashed

PAGODAS

Time, Time to answer the call

The call to Freedom

Freedom for Your Child And Ours

To

To imagine a Burma

Where POWER is not for sale

Where You won’t be obsess with

Ways to Control, Brainwash, Dominate, Your people

To imagine a Burma Where your authority will be judged

Not by your ability to Confuse, Deceive, Instill fear and prejudices

But by your ability to Love, Administer justice, Care for your people

It is never too late to answer the call

The call for Freedom

Now is a good time

As any other time

Time to answer the call

Time to open the door

Time to let

The freedom bells ring!

_ By MKN 

Your Comments here_

If you have evidences of genocide committed by military regime please contact burmadigest@tayzathuria.org.uk