Life, Dreams and Reality -- Sohel's Blog

Implosions By Adrienne Rich The world's not wanton only wild and wavering I wanted to choose words that even you would have to be changed by Take the word of my pulse, loving and ordinary Send out your signals, hoist your dark scribbled flags but take my hand All wars are useless to the dead My hands are knotted in the rope and I cannot sound the bell My hands are frozen to the switch and I cannot throw it The foot is in the wheel When all is over and we're lying in a stubble of blistered flowers eyes gaping, mouths staring dusted with crushed arterial blues barred with tiger-lily reds I'll have done nothing even for you ---------- A Mark of Resistance By Adrienne Rich Stone by stone I pile this cairn of my intention with the noon's weight on my back, exposed and vulnerable across the slanting fields which I love but cannot save from floods that are to come; can only fasten down with this work of my hands,...

Dear Readers, Though most of the world populace and nations are in agreement on the reality of global warming and its catastrophic consequences, some of which are already taking shape around the world, there are only a few skeptics remain, albeit their numbers are diminishing, but still lingering in high power up position like the current Bush Administration of U.S. Government. Even the majority of American population couldn't even convince these hard headed folks with eyes away from the eyes of the coming storms. Even mountain like rising sea waves blasting sea shores cause merest dent in their insolent cage of irrationality. Read the following: "Climate models developed by tropical meteorologists predict significant changes in hurricane intensity as greenhouse gases accumulate in the atmosphere and add more heat to the oceans. According to Tom Knutson and Bob Tuleya, tropical climate modelers at the Princeton, N.J.-based Geophysical Fluid Dynamics Laboratory, we can e...

Dear Readers, Do you feel the similar distress in reading news from Iraq? Do you have the similar urge to avoid reading all these news of mindless killings, maiming and destruction taking place throughout Iraq while the entire world cannot do anything but feeling helpless? Despite my subconscious effort, the mangled and burnt bodies of dying children, women, and men, the lifeless limbs and splattered blood in and around the deepest crater in the middle of busy bazaar or twisted metal of a blown apart car grip me by the throat. Looking through the privileged lens, seating on a comfortable chair while soothing music playing in the background, is it the distance and the increasingly foreignness of this messy illegal war devised and executed by the neocons of similar aloofness, similar thousands of miles distance from the charcoaled bodies of civilians and soldiers of all colors, made it possible for calling heartless shots from a room with a view, away from all the stenches of overflow...

Dying By Robert Pinsky Nothing to be said about it, and everything --- The change of changes, closer or further away: The Golden Retriever next door, Gussie, is dead, Like Sandy, the Cocker Spaniel from three doors down Who died when I was small; and every day Things that were in my memory fade and die. Phrases die out: first, everyone forgets What doornails are; then after certain decades As a dead metaphor, "dead as a doornail" flickers And fades away. But someone I know is dying --- And though one might say glibly, "everyone is," The different pace make the difference absolute. The tiny invisible spores in the air we breathe, That settle harmlessly on our drinking water And on our skin, happen to come together With certain conditions on the forest floor, Or even a shady corner of the lawn --- And overnight the fleshy, pale stalks gather, The colorless growth without a leaf or flower; And around the stalks, the summer grass k...

Dear Readers, Chechnya's dismal bloodbath is raging with never ending ferocity. Only a few weeks ago the world witnessed the horror of terrorism, innocent children and civilians were killed, hundreds of them, when the terrorists seized a school, and then the botched storming event by the Russian troops crashing down walls, crushing terrified children along with the hope for peaceful end of that grizly seize. Indeed there are rogue elements of Chechnya's rebels, who have adopted the radical road, using brutal forces to thwart equal brutality of Russian occupied forces in Chechnya. But there are many other Chechens, the majority of them seek a negotiated solution rather than continuing the on going tit-for-tat murderous events, one after another, they want to have peaceful co-existence with their Russian counterparts. So, why is Putin and his Russian government are unable to adopt that conflict-less path? S. Frederick Starr discusses these issues and other timely ones in his Wash...

Celestial Music By Louise Glück I have a friend who still believes in heaven. Not a stupid person, yet with all she knows, she literally talks to God. She thinks someone listens in heaven. On earth she's unusually competent. Brave too, able to face unpleasantness. We found a caterpillar dying in the dirt, greedy ants crawling over it. I'm always moved by disaster, always eager to oppose vitality But timid also, quick to shut my eyes. Whereas my friend was able to watch, to let events play out According to nature. For my sake she intervened Brushing a few ants off the torn thing, and set it down Across the road. My friend says I shut my eyes to God, that nothing else explains My aversion to reality. She says I'm like the child who Buries her head in the pillow So as not to see, the child who tells herself That light causes sadness- My friend is like the mother. Patient, urging me To wake up an adult like herself, a courageous person- ...