I was sent to raise 
to raise the world,
the whole earth to raise

I could not find where
the base and the basis were
the base of the world to raise

It broke and fell
and floated in space,
in space where no raising can be

And I after it
aflame and burning
burning to raise the world. 

  I am just a simple woman
  From a small village in the Philippines
  Where we have a market only twice a week:
  Wednesdays and Saturdays.
  I go there to buy vegetables,
  And a few shrimps to cook with them,
  Sometimes a bit of meat.
  (I raise my own chickens
  And they give me eggs too.)
  
  I like to market:
  I buy shrimps from my friend Lina -
  Her husband is a fisherman.
  I know the women who sell greens too,
  And always stand chatting with them.
  They usually have news from other towns.
  I find out who is getting married 
  And whose baby has come.
  And I return home feeling
  That Life is full.
  
  I wonder what it is like
  To be a Jewish settler woman 
  And to go to the market in Hebron
  With an Israeli soldier beside me
  With a gun.
  Could I enjoy a friendly chat?
  Could I endure the hostile gaze,
  The sullen thrust of merchandise for money?
  Could there be any bargaining?
  Would the exchange include friendly information?
  Could I meet the vendor's eye?
  
  I suppose I would get good prices that way
  And surely spend less time.
  But no woman wants to market like that
  In a marketplace with ghosts of pain
  Under armed escort
  As a threat to all who go there.
  
  Israeli women, Palestinian women:
  Free them from politics, from ideologies,
  So that they may enjoy marketing
  Like normal women
  And go home again
  Feeling that life is full!
  

  You featherskin man
  Magpie, Koori
  all your suffering is reflected in your face
  sixteen years in prison
  sixteen escapes.
  You noticed early that 
  the only thing we alien invaders worship is Money -
  so you robbed banks
  to payback the insulting of all aboriginals
  and Mother Earth.
  That role of paying back was given to you by our people
  you, featherskin man,
  Magpie, Koori
  
  Mother Earth, your mother, my mother, everyone's mother
  was raped, destroyed by mines
  now the air is bleeding
  the soil is crying
  plants, trees with cancer are sighing
  
  You paid back your Mother Earth's suffering
  Mother's blood
  by stealing our money,
  robbing banks,
  You featherskin man, Magpie, Koori
  
  Your weapon was wrong
  Money lovers never learn
  we are the hopeless tribe of the Earth
  cruel and innocent
  not knowing the real values of life.
  Now your weapon is stronger - words, poems,
  your pen is sharp
  your weapon is strong.

   Wealth without work
   pleasure without conscience
   knowledge without character
   commerce without morality
   science without humanity
   worship without sacrifice
   politics without principles

 If a child lives with criticism,
         He learns to condemn.
 If a child lives with hostility,
         He learns to fight.
 If a child lives with ridicule,
         He learns to be shy.
 If a child lives with shame,
         He learns to feel guilty.

  HOWEVER -
 If a child lives with tolerance,
         He learns to be patient.
 If a child lives with encouragement,
         He learns confidence.
 If a child lives with praise,
         He learns to appreciate.
 If a child lives with fairness,
         He learns justice.
 If a child lives with security,
         He learns to have faith.
 If a child lives with approval,
         He learns to like himself.
 If a child lives with acceptance and friendship,
         He learns to find love in the world.

 It's swelling now
 like the seed before it sprouts
 [which] only moles mark.
 
 Furtive as deer in shadows
 who cast eyes over brush,
 peace will gather until
 
 that moment like a child bursting
 into a room. Flung doors,
 scattered dust until all
 is wind shot through with light.

Moonbeams lit the evening sky
   Previously graced by sundrops
   
   Waves crashed againt the velvet sand
   Wind whistled its lullabye melody
   
   My senses were alive that night
   in awe
     of beauty 
             and
                perfection
   
   The light of the moon brightened my eyes
       Wind ran through my hair
     gently caressing my face and arms
   while waves whispered peace songs in my ear.
   
   And the sand below my naked feet
             warm as a sundrop
             cool as a moonbeam
   echoed my thoughts of Peace
   
   Surrounded by beauty, 
   i am but a dewdrop
   in this vast 
             canvas
                     called
                             creation.

He drew a circle and shut me out
a renegade, a heretic, a thing to flout

But love and I had wit to win
we drew a circle that took him in.

I am a voice,
   the voice of spilt blood
     crying from the land.
 
 The life is in the blood
   and for years my life flowed in the veins of a young man.
     My voice was heard through his voice,
       and my life was his life.
 
 Then our volcano erupted
 and for a series of numbing days
   all human voices were silenced
     amid the roar of the heavy guns,
     the harsh clank of tank tracks,
     the bone-jarring shudder of sonic booms,
       as gladiators with million-dollar swords
       killed each other high in the sky.
 
 Then suddenly--suddenly
   there was the swish of a rocket launcher--
   a dirty yellow flash--
   all hell roared
 The clanking of the great tracks stopped.
   My young man staggered screaming from his inferno,
   his body twitched and flopped in the sand
 
 And I was spilt into the earth--
   into the holy earth
     of the Hold Land.
 
 The battle moved on.
   The wounded vehicles burned,
     scorched,
       and cooled.
 
 The "meat wagons" carried the bodies away as
   the chill of the desert night
   settled on ridge and dune,
 And I stiffened and blackened in the sand.

 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 1997 peace marchers
 take hold of the slab of marble
 on which is enscribed
 "we want to live not die"
 and carry it away under whizzing bullets
 like a wounded corpse
 still breathing
 still warm ...