Monthly Archives: February 2019

‘We are very close’, by Finola Scott

I am not a silent poet

Tens of thousands march in Venezuela 2/2/19

This river of democracy is in full spate,
With flags frothing, baseball capped marchers
flood their cities, find strength in each other.
Waving statues of the virgin, home made banners
they march, courage tied tight as their shoes.

Seirra de Perija                Barquisimeto

This tsunami of hope, of belief in protest,
seems unstoppable. Yes we can! We can!
My throat catches as I see them stand
rock steady while their anthem soars.

Caracus         Petre          Barinas

As other words – ‘counter-demonstrations’,
‘the Military’, ‘gringos’ – slip into the article,
I recall my days of foot stomping in Glasgow.
Whose streets? No Pasaran felt easy here.
Fear pricks my skin.

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Sentinel, by Mandy Macdonald

I am not a silent poet

On 17 November 2018, a young American missionary who tried to land illegally on the remote North Sentinel Island (pop. c. 100), one of the Andaman and Nicobar group in the Indian Ocean, was the latest person to be killed by the island’s inhabitants, who violently repel all outsiders. Since the 1990s the Indian government, which is responsible for the island, has declared it out of bounds to visitors so that the Sentinelese can be left alone.

a people at least
thirty thousand years old
living on what their island provides
naked, handsome, happy
(or so we imagine)
officially ‘uncontacted’
in fact uncontactable
by their own wish
which they enforce by attacking
anyone who tries to land

we want to know about them
of course
……………….how they live, how they survive
how can an island of twenty-three square miles
……………….support them for so many millennia?
can their needs…

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