Category Archives: people


Genre: War, People


Embrace impact,

Slower the thinker,

History is stigma.

Sleep not deeper

Join me in commissioning
‘Operation Boko_haram extinguisher’.

Over the night our girls

Might never return.

Courage beats fear,

Sweat for peace or

Bleed at war.

Call time a ghost,

Time to extinguish Boko_haram

Including her host.

Immediate cultivation of

Nationalistic seeds through the

North, Africa and beyond.

Improve dreams of me,

And fatherless playing naked

Underneath Sambisa’s leaves.

With equal sacrifice

Authority doesn’t involve guns,

Camouflage protects love, as

Civilisation and conscience

Seasonally evolve.

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:

JASMINE NO MORE, Poetry by Daniel Hefty

Genre: War, Political, People, Society

by Daniel Hefty

I wake up in the night thinking about children
not mine but yours
you broken mothers
snatched from security and comfort
thrust into a divide uncrossable
left at the bottom of the rubble
from a sectarian blanket bombing campaign for peace
and domination

You wanted something you had no right to request
democracy would never replace the Shahs and Kings
did you believe they cared about God more than power
as they hauled off your sons and husbands
in the springtime of their lives
the Arab spring
as fire and brimstone rained down from the sky

I see vast expanses of barren mountain desert
scattered with scant shrubs and giant boulders
hand planted by Allah
moonlight catches up to the shadows
traversing a border into the unknown
where pregnant mothers will give birth to offspring
who will never have a land to call home

Charity packed on trucks
tangled in red tape and cease fires
no medicine exists to quiet screams of pain
brought on by seeking freedom
where none can be obtained
the dream turned on them
and cut them off

If you have nothing you are nothing
no papers no proof, no proof no help
humanitarianism twenty first century style
orphans never fear becoming widows
for they have no fathers to give them away
but how many orphans end up as prostitutes

no one wishes to say

I see a toddler passed out in the noonday sun
slumpt into the depressions of a jet black burka sitting on the street
lifeless, the pose instantly elicits sympathy
until you know the child’s been drugged by the arms that hold them
but nothing is done, no one will stand up for the unwanted
disrupting the balance they never wanted to be weighed amongst
children always receive the shortest measure in war

Slumlords and pedophiles circle like vultures
shop owners become slave owners overnight
schooling is replaced by work, books by brooms
childhood ended when the first bomb fell
which erased their Mosque and blew their school to hell
scattering them to the wind
to fall like debris on unwelcoming lands

Weekly whole families drift painlessly off to sleep
as the tiny UN heaters deliver carbon monoxide dreams
of the paradise that awaits them as they huddle in their tents
freezing and starving
soon the neighbors will want them to move on
with their problems and children
without a home

I have the right to say this because I have been to the source
I’ve seen the agony and outcome of this war first hand
the optometrist has blinded the world to his crimes
killing his own sons and daughters
while westerners watch for an opportunity to cash in
on the chaos they created in the first place
but no children crossed their minds

On the border between Syria and Lebanon I met a man
who had lost everything he owned
he had sent his wife and children on ahead towards Beirut
he told them he would follow soon
instead he turned as they drove out of sight and headed back to Syria
to rejoin the fight
and bury his brother, facing east

Seven million people, seven fucking million people displaced
and Christianity could give a damn
that western greed brought this all upon them
while they withheld aid and intervention
when the civilians were dying by the hundreds in Aleppo and Homs
the news gave them thirty seconds
which most of the world missed

It’s spring time again
the jasmine flower fell from its place of pride
four years ago and has never recovered
it’s roots twisted, it’s beauty destroyed
seeds cast to the wind unable to reroot
to eventually rest in the ruins
of what was a civilized habitation

I wake up in the night thinking about children
my children
and how they better get it right
how important it is they stand up for others
who can’t
because one day not to far away
this all could happen to them.

Daniel Hefty
American Muslim
april 2015

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit: