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Moon Brothers

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Sarah Crossan

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“[Long Life] This famous writer has died at 92 And that legend journalist, The darling of authorities and mainstream media, Has died at 95. This pious religious man Has died at 96, And that billionaire, Known for his countless charities and charitable deeds Has died at 96 also… The veteran and shrewd politician, The former president of that country, Has died at 95 as well… And the same questions that dawned on me Ever since I understood the oppression & filthiness Of what the elites, authorities, and those in power are capable of, Begin ringing in my ears once again: Can anyone aware of the ugliness of what is going on live a long life? Is it a coincidence that most people, writers, and artists Who enriched my awareness and world died prematurely Or died, literally or metaphorically, by suicide, assassination, or in prison? Can a shred of awareness fell upon us without defeating the body and the soul Cell by cell and one organ after another causing a premature death? I also wonder have the writers, journalists, religious men, and politicians Who lived long lives enriched truth and justness, Or have they gotten rich at the expense of the above to live long lives up to 92, 93, 94, 95, & 96? And by biggest questions of all: Is there somewhere, in some world, in some place, a dagger of awareness that stabs without the killing the stabbed prematurely? [Original poem published in Arabic on December 31, 2022, at ahewar.org]”

HumanityPowerAwarenessLongevityQuality Of LifeCaring For OthersComplicityArabic PoetryArabic LiteratureLifespan
Author:Louis Yako
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“I’m red poppy from the mountains of the homeland The winds are my tunes The thunder is my voice When I object what is going on… Rains are my tears When I’m speechless The gushing sounds of water Are my hearty songs… *** I’m red poppy from the mountains of the homeland When I welt, I shall leave smiling And assured that my seeds Shall create vast meadows of wildflowers For future generations Wiser than you and I…”

LoveHomeWisdomHumanityNatureBeautyCommunicationBelongingArabic PoetryWildflowers
Book:أنا زهرة برية [I am a Wildflower]
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“[Imprisoned Poem] Somewhere deep inside me There lies an imprisoned poem A poem that is Buried Chained And holding its breath Ages ago… A poem about futility The fragility of words About alarms, if sounded, They’d be either destined to silence Or get written on the walls of indifference… There is an ancient poem Imprisoned in my soul Waiting to be released impatiently, In due time… Like a house cat this imprisoned poem keeps eagerly watching Every move outside the window, Without any participation… And like a house cat, Whenever this imprisoned poem Gets exhausted by the triviality of reality, It sleeps for long hours Only to wake up and find The status quo unchanged And the strings moving the puppets uncut… It then looks out the window in sorrow And goes back to sleep once again To dream of a less ugly world… My imprisoned poem has vowed not to release itself From the deepest points in my soul Until everyone else is awake For its release to be meaningful… (November 17, 2014)”

HumanityPrisonUnityFutilityArabic PoetryCollective ConsciousnessArabic LiteratureCollective ActionThe Power Of Words
Book:أنا زهرة برية [I am a Wildflower]
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“Emotions are at the very center of our existence, but they aren't the center of the world. There's nothing at the center of the world. So don't let your emotions control you, Akutagawa. Do not pursue the beast within you. Stand on your own two feet, rely only on yourself, and be as cold and tough as you can. You won't be able to survive in this world otherwise.”

InspirationHumanity
Book:文豪ストレイドッグス ＢＥＡＳＴ
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“Even without abstract thought or metaphysical theorizing, just standing on two legs and using clubs gave mankind more than enough skill to win the race for survival on earth. These other abilities aren’t that necessary. And in exchange for our hyper-capable cerebral cortexes, of necessity we have to give up lots of other physical abilities. For example, dogs have a sense of smell several thousand times better than humans, and a sense of hearing tens of times better. But we’re able to amass complex hypotheses. We’re able to compare and contrast the cosmos and the microcosmos, and appreciate Van Gogh and Mozart. We can read Proust—if you want to, that is—and collect Koimari porcelain and Persian rugs. Not something a dog can do.”

HumansInspirationHumanityEvolutionSuperior
Book:Killing Commendatore
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“I have looked many men in the eye. Some I deemed villains, liars, and beasts. Others, more trustworthy than clergy. A binary discussion, assigning simply black or white, is a stunted reading of these individuals, the death of, "Why?" The color black is an unintelligible void and white, an incoherent scream, each lacking the constructive facts shrouded in the other. Only through shades of each is there an understanding of reality, any conception of an image. And so, I've sought them, these violent shades of gray. From JR Hazard, introduction to Of Empire and Illusion”

HumanityShades Of GrayHumanity QuoteBinary Thinking
Book:Of Empire and Illusion: Or the Manuscript as it Sat August 27, 1987
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