Diary Excerpt - September 11th, 2047

 

Diary Excerpt: September 11th, 2047 

It’s clear to me now, as I sit here thinking,

how the world went to war without blinking

if only we had protested more, raised our voices,

raised our fists and insisted on change!

Maybe then, we’d have made other choices,

now it’s too late, for that fateful day is coming,

nothing can stop it; the bastards went too far!

They’ve broken through our defenses,

all we have now are anxious moments,

and when, when does it all come to an end.

Here, inside this rickety building

no time for new starts or for our minds to mend

what is money good for, if there is no life,

when the world is made empty, and filled with strife

no power, food or water, no escape left.

Huddled in darkness within this ruined city,

If only we could turn back time, fight for the truth to be heard

instead of allowing all the lies to wash our minds

the endless war could have been stopped.

Too late, I hear the drones coming, the sirens are wailing

my heart is drumming, sitting here in last reflection,

here it comes…

End of scanned document, subject deceased, unknown. Street cleared

Drone report C20241079 – Model B

End Transmission

Escape

 

Escape

“Escape into the forest”,

that’s what she said to me

at that eccentric party in Manhattan

where everyone was drunk on illusions.

"We can turn back time,

leave this sinking ship”,

her eyes were wild and wide

as if she was running away from the mob.

There was a quiver in her voice

when she took her shoes off

tossed them from the rooftop

“Come on, it’s this way”.

The wall street bank partied late into the night

toasting twenty, twenty-four,

another titanic killing,

with few survivors.

We slipped out, down the back stairs

and into a yellow cab,

“Upstate” she told the cabbie

just as the city blacked out.

Protest

 

Protest

The streets were filled with protest

those days of stormy weather

against the flows of evil

the town stood up together.

We marched down Main and Broadway

where we stood for all mankind

till busses filled with stickmen

followed orders to confine.

Those robo cops came running

their batons bruised like steel

we stood there in defiance

through teargas and appeal.

Burning eyes from pepper spray

just for demanding our rights

with many there beside us

arrested night after night.

…and in that crammed police cell,

where the doom just had no end

you were smiling beside me

my tribe, my family, my friend.

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On that Perfect Day

 

On that Perfect Day

Calming waters and azure skies

reflecting color of your eyes

where cherished moments came to play

and intertwined that perfect day.

The lake was restful and at one,

with gentle breeze that cooled the sun

while shadows played in angel rays

and intertwined that perfect day.

My ghosts paid visit to the clouds

in sunset colors with their shrouds,

surrounding essence in their gray

that intertwined that perfect day.

They tempted forests with their glow

on rippled waves where ambers flow,

that danced with branches in their sway

and intertwined that perfect day.

Serenity had gathered well

a lush of life signs with her spell

timid beings drew to the bay

and intertwined that perfect day.

A secret place where all things meet

in state of mind, just so complete

alone together in ballet

and intertwined that perfect day.

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Distractions

 

Distractions

Many, too many programs

planted in our minds

distracts the ease of dreaming

that sails behind the blinds.

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Memories

 

Memories

Time slips by, gathers dust in the attic

on creative journeys, once pragmatic

all carefully kept on scrolls in the mind

each one a journey that we’ve left behind.

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No Boundaries

 

No Boundaries

In dancing light behind closed eyes

unveiled scenes, another time

where rivers met and calm did flow

no boundaries made on earth did show.

Deep forests greens, inhaled the sun

all lifeforms thrived, were so diverse

lush in vibrance and connection

no boundaries with the universe.

All it was, was supposed to be

the world untouched by foundries

where nature gathered in its swoon

to praise the heavens under moon.

And moonlight shone across the seas

no boundaries for our hearts to be

where long hellos met long good bye’s

in dancing light before our eyes.

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The Door

 

The Door

Rising from the depths of darkness,

light appears with wooden door

a choice to make after lessons learned,

remain in fear or win the war.

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Eva Bartlett

 

Eva Bartlett

A true Canadian, proud and free

who stands for human rights like me

with truth in mind and freedom for all

a real journalist answers the call.

Unlike the mainstream circus news

who camp belligerent twisted views

she goes to places they refuse to see

reports aggression and reality.

Two thousand eight in the Gaza strip

she opened eyes to oppressions grip

witnessed carnage of Israeli state

the blanket genocide of their hate.

She went back again in twenty twelve

where Palestinian rights were shelved

by global leaders in west’s cabal

where human rights don’t exist at all.

All is documented on her blog

the crimes that mainstream keeps in fog

but those who follow are in the know

of just how far the Israeli’s go.

In Syria she helped expose the size

of all the governed media lies

that western governments were at fault

for terrorist armies and assault.

From Venezuela to Gaza Strip

Donbass, Aleppo, with statesmanship

Eva was there to cover the news

to counter the mainstream’s twisted views.

Great honors by the Mexican press

an international award I must stress

Gellhorn finalist for her reports

Serina Shim award she also sports.

Through tireless work, we are assured

and trust the truth found in her words

so, here’s to a journalist I call friend

an amazing person to the end.

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The Activist Poet

About this Poem: Eva Bartlett is an independent investigative journalist with extensive experience in Syria and the Gaza Strip.

In Gaza, where she lived from late 2008 to early 2013. Eva documented the 2008/9 and 2012 Israeli war crimes and attacks on Gaza while riding in ambulances and reporting from hospitals.

Eva’s journalism brought her to Syria in April 2014 where she visited on 15 separate occasions through 2021 covering the terrorist war being waged on Syria by a coalition of belligerent nations. Eva also covered the 2021 Syrian elections which were won overwhelmingly by the Syrian Leadership.

Eva has also reported from Venezuela and the Donetsk Republic.

In 2017, Eva was short-listed and runner up for the prestigious Martha Gellhorn Prize for Journalism, an award given for outstanding journalism. In March 2017, Eva was awarded the “International Journalism Award for International Reporting” granted by the Mexican Journalists’ Press Club. Co-recipients of the award included: John Pilger and political analyst Thierry Meyssan. Eva was also the first recipient of the Serena Shim award, an honour shared with many excellent journalists since.

All of Eva’s written and video work can be found on her personal blog at: Ingaza Wordpress 

Eva’s media Link Tree

Estuary’s Gift

 

Estuary’s Gift

Nebulous skies break the morning,

foggy mist swells the lake in white,

gently wakes the sleeping angels,

that came in late and spent the night.

Tranquil whispers greet the light,

as billowed blankets gently fade,

reveals kept secret behind the clouds,

the perfect painting god had made.

Excitement builds as sun grows stronger,

snow geese prepare to leave the lake,

form a crescent on the water,

before departure they will make.

As sunrise breaks the mountain top,

a beam of gold reveals the way,

and leads the geese in rising song,

as they prepare to leave the bay.

A crash of thunder greets the air,

the beat back of ten thousand wings,

that breaks the stillness on the lake,

and drives the rising song they sing.

Wings beat faster, hearts are racing,

they carry my essence in tow,

raise me up in celebration,

with estuary’s gift bestowed.

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