Archive for the ‘We Don’t Have To Be Enemies’ Category

Radio Free Moscow, you say.

A much needed antidote to Radio Free Europe Radio Liberty?

Or just more of the same,

repackaged,

another name?

Moscow, Idaho, you clarify.

America?

Huh?

Don’t they have missiles pointed at us?

Or, is that Moscow, Iowa?

Maybe, Moscow, Pennsylvania?

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

We have much in common,

like a fondness for sunflower seeds,

indeed,

we also bleed.

 

©ddr7hd

 

Hitler said that if you wanted a certain job done

you had to get the Latvians involved.

He spoke (it’s recorded)

in condescending tones

about how they would do the things

no one else could do,

implying the Latvians were scum,

more or less,

from an obvious analysis.

But really, with wisdom applied,

between the printed lines,

it’s apparent,

Hitler feared the Latvians.

…FEARED!

And now, we forget…

Decadent deference,

histories swallowed,

and lost dichotomies of self-defence.

©ddr7hd

Everyone hates Ukrainians,

apparently,

read history and news.

They all have a reason,

Poles, Jews, Russians, the EU.

… And you?

Me, I try to escape.

I go to the Pentathlon World Championships.

It’s Moskva (Raz, dva, tri!)…

The action is good and honest.

But, shit!

The Ukrainian has a gun,

pointing straight at everyone.

The poster is loud and clear, I turn away in fear.

Propaganda,

Impulses and repulses,

We miss the years of Soyuz,

In a sense,

Pain and defence,

We flinch…

but, please,

most of all,

can we remember,

fashion,

imagine,

the things we share,

like

peace,

and

recognize,

matter of fact

… we don’t have to be enemies?

 

I had, I am sure,

an abnormal childhood and adolescence.

A product of who, when and where I am from,

external manipulations,

my sensitivities.

I saw the movie Grandview USA in 1993.

It was new to me.

I felt like I belonged, somehow.

From the opening credits, homely, inviting,

I felt at ease.

I wanted to be the girl in the bikini

with the Frisbee

(hard to believe?),

happy,

free.

I hoped things hadn’t changed too much

in the almost decade

since the film had been made.

Indeed.

I wanted a home.

I could dream.

 

 

Yesterday she talked,

like I was a friend.

Today she turned her head,

ignorantly walked.

 

All we want is some space, a buffer one might say.

And peace.

Can you blame us?

Our history and terror!

Repeated invasion, perceived continual threat,

even from small-fry.

Your misunderstanding and aggression,

our reaction.

Our rhetoric and sometimes actions.

It’s not about conquest,

it’s about peace.

 

Moskva ’80,

Zapad ’81.

You act,

we react,

it’s a matter of fact.

Get with the program!

You hate,

we abhor.

And wait for LA ’84.

 

The place I am from,

we don’t have washing machines:

we do it by hand.

This is a shout out to those of us who have lost a parent (or two),

whether to death,

something divine,

or by ugly human betrayal,

perfidy (things which should not be!).

Love, respect and understanding to us,

we who are left behind,

in pain and confusion,

the orphans, the denied.