Soaring Question

Pic on Flickr by Gemma Wiseman ~ Flying Ship
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Sunday Scribblings prompt ~ Soar/sore
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Sometimes the wings of dreams
Are cobwebbed
In muralled galleries
Of old ships ~
Sails billowing
In metallic chilled harmony ~
Following the breezes
Of ancient quests
That soar
And sweep
In hectic haste
To the chaos
And confusion
And sore question of
NOW!
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I wanna know "Why Child Soldiers?"

Pic from SOS Children's Villages

The following are excerpts from my Helium article on child soldiers PLUS poetic comments

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Child soldiers play the war games of adults; child soldiers develop in an underground of fear and despair. They live the horror of adult wars. Child soldiers know too much about a fractured fantasy world; a skewed, dystopian world.

Why must a child be dragged into war?

Board games are strictly for adults?

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Approximately 300,000 children fight in about thirty conflicts. 30% of armed forces recruit girls who are often sexually abused.

Are we so lame, so tame, so cold

We need a child' strength, any child's life?

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For 14 years, Liberia was ripped apart by civil war, only ending as recently as 2003. Children were literally wrenched from their homes to fight. Government troops from Cote d'Ivoire recruited ex child soldiers from Liberia for their war.

Is there no shame, no guilt, no blame

For erasing the innocent child?

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In Myanmar (Burma), children are abducted, brutally treated, and then forced into combat. There are more child soldiers here than anywhere else in the world. 50,000 child soldiers work for government and rebel armies. Children as young as seven work as human shields.
What do they know of smiles and fun?

Can they ever dream of happiness?

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Most volunteer to survive. In Africa especially, children are abandoned by parents too poor to support them. Many are simply useful, obedient, expendable pieces of humanity.
Survival! Is that all there is?

Are these the children of our future?

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I've never seen your child's face ~ Bloggers Unite

Pic from Open Learn
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I've never seen the raw eyes of war
Terror laden face of the young
Cradling a weapon of death
Tight in innocent hands
Humanity's shame
Lonely young heart
Beating cold
Frozen
Child
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Colours in the Dust

Pic on Flickr by halo_prints ~ Colours of Egypt ~

Two for Tuesdays prompt ~ colour and/or dust

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Egypt ~

Egyptian pyramids ~

Spark a longing

For colours

In the dust ~

Like a universal longing

For some dusty

Utopia

Coloured with

Threads

Of a mystical

Celestial

Advanced

Conscience

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Mystic mists at Arthurs Seat

Pic on Flickr by Gemma Wiseman ~ Misty Arthurs Seat 1

Yesterday, there was a beautiful sense of mystery in the air. It was a day when any sane photographer would simply despair at finding any rhyme or reason. Shapes seemed to ooze out of nowhere and all known sensibilities seemed forgotten. Believe it or not, that is usually a busy road just in front of that little crossing. But on this day, I had no problem taking a pic from this point.


Just near the open parkland at the summit are many walking tracks leading into the Arthurs Seat National Park. This is one of the many walkways dreaming its way into the scents and wonders of the Australian bush.

This pic (below) is of Bunurong Track, just below the Arthurs Seat summit. It is a winding road, generally used by the locals to short-cut from Arthurs Seat to the bustling village of Rosebud on Port Phillip Bay. Here, the summit purls away into white space.

This pic wanders into the magic of Australian bushland. The ochrey textures of bark soften in the palest blues of mists. In many ways, this scene reminds me of paintings done by the colonial painters of the Heidelburg School.

I felt there was something haunting here, like a dream waiting for dreaming.

Faithful Smile

Pic on Flickr by Gemma Wiseman ~ My adorable dog
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Writer's Island prompt ~ Faithful
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For some ~
Lifeless
Stone
Cement
Means
Cold
Without
Feeling ~
But
There
By the door
Of dawns
And sunsets
You remind me
To practise
The daily art
Of
A faithful
Warm
Smile
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The Chatter Box

Pic on Flickr by Gemma Wiseman
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Sunday Scribblings prompt ~ telephone
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Locked into walls
And plugs
And wires
The telephone
Was once the hive
To bubble and squeak
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But now
Landline
Is
The buzz word for
That antiquated
Means of transport ~
Definitely
The lower means of travel
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Mobiles or
Cellphones
Are the real way
The cool way
To wing the clouds ~
Unwired
Unplugged
Hands free
~
Contactable
Reachable
Anywhere
Any time
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But I wonder
Does that mean
We have more freedom
Or less?
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