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Ode to Daniel Pearl

To Life


The Last American Folk Song (Pictures and Poems)

Walking Papers (Friday's Psalm)


The Craft

The Reason Why I Cry


Ode to the Angel of Speech

Passion - a poem


The Beauty of What Once Was

Here With Us Today (for Daniel)

Pure and Evil

A Man of the World


Where'd You Go

Our Wish

In Memory of Daniel Pearl

Ode to Daniel Pearl
By Jane Rian

You were that seeker of truth
In our world so savage
Unspeakable tortures
A body so ravaged.

A darkened world, black as that night
Kidnapped, unknowing, trust now broken
The demise of such a shining light
Wife so worried, words unspoken

Countless hours, a lifetime of waiting
Remembering love, so sad, your tears
Ruthless love, so sad, your tears
Ruthless men, continually baiting
All alone, to face such fears.

The end has come, this terror will pass
And silently your soul will rise
With courage you left us, this human mass
Can you hear our hopeless cries?

Daniel , sweet Daniel, so far away
Soul gazing our world
What would you say?
What would you say?

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To Life
In Memory of Daniel Pearl
By Michael Mercer

Shrouded in Hatred

Attacked Humanity

Was Not There

Only this Heart,

There was Fear,
An internal Fight

There was Pride
Spoken of the streets of Jerusalem

There was No Defeat

Only Death
and Heaven

and Daniel
In The Heart Of God

September 18, 2008

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By: Eileen Francis

Look at the moon, isn't she beautiful
she's seen it all
the silent witness in the sky, I can almost hear her crying...
look at those solemn eyes, is it any surprise?
You know, she's seen it all.
That the leaders of this world have continually marched us into war.
Unable to imagine anything more, this is what they settle for.
And every day I pray, I pray there will be an Epiphany.
Every day, in every way I pray there will be an Epiphany.
And the leaders would all rise
against war
and all it ever stood for.
And a new commitment to compassion
for the whole human race would take its place.
If you think this only about freedom...
freedom comes only in the arms of truth
if you think this only about religion, what religion are you?
What religion are you, for the fear that poisons the wells of this world run deep and seem to  rule more mightily over the heart of mankind than his own belief in God
If you think this is only about God, then God help you now, if you think that somehow this pain is divinely ordained...
This is more about man than it is God's plan
Just ask that silent witness in the sky, I can almost hear her crying..
And every day I pray, I pray there will be an Epiphany.
Every day in every way I pray there will be an Epiphany.

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The Last American Folk Song (Pictures and Poems)
By Terry D. Miller

Pictures and Poems – trapped in my mind.
I dare to stumble over them.
As I walk, I seek to find
An answer for this crazy mayhem.
What has happened while I slept?
“Young princes died, while kings and queens all wept.
The Court Jester persisted in his crazy antics,
And the Ladies-in-Waiting did wail and panic.
The Court Mage relied on smoke and mirrors
to spin-doctor the tales of our dear kingdom’s terrors.
The Knights all fight, but their lights are extinguished
As the Soul of our Great American Dream is relinquished.”

Solutions to this madness, I don’t know them.
All I can offer are pictures and poems:
Have we learned anything from the classics we’ve read?
Greeks and Romans, once mighty, now dead.
The swords they lived by proved to be more
Sharper than they bargained for.

“Save the Whales,” is the battle cry
of middle-class liberals, wondering why
their message is sincere, but their voice unheard.

Animals need protection, we’re entrusted with their care
But how in the world could we ever dare
Put their well-being over humans’ with but a word?!
We’ll act out this drama
to perfection. Let’s rehearse:
“You can save the whales, go right ahead,
but please save men, women, and children first.

We’ve raped the earth
and now we’ll pay
for our indiscretions great.
She’ll fail to yield her precious fruit,
we’ll weep, but
we’ll be too late.

The Rich they grow richer by the sweat of the Poor.
It waters the Earth, and empires spring up.
While the Blood of the Minorities drips and lubricates
The machinery of the Man’s sinister set-up.

Happy are the Ignorant, for they,
After feeding on Fear and Pride, will play
Into the eager hands of “-Ism”:
Materialism, Sexism, and Racism (Bigotry is not an “-Ism!”)

If segregated, we’ll die while apart,
But when together, we battle for Control
Through love and understanding, we can make a start
of figuring out each one’s role.

Solutions to this madness, I don’t know them,
All I can offer are pictures and poems:
Children are our future, heirs to our past.
Let us hope this American Folk Song will be the last.

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Walking Papers (Friday's Psalm)
By Valerie Russo

Weary Spirit
I watch you wander.
Torn muscles,
despairing eyes,
sorrowful heart,
trying to find a place
to claim
your own safe refuge.

Arms open
I die to embrace you,
shelter you.
Keep you from
the cold darkness,
the abyss
threatening to drown you.
both you and I.

I wonder why
I feel so strongly
your need.
When you,
tell me to stay away.
Fearful of the power,
the abyss has
over you,
scared it might claim
me too.
Your demons
becoming mine,
Yet, you fail to realize
that my demons
are the same
you face
when you look in the mirror.

For our fates
are so intertwined
that they fail to appear
as singular
when scrutinized closely.
But instead
are as tightly
paired as the double helix
Of a DNA strand,
Curving and spooning
around each other.
The blueprints of two lives,
combined, conjoined,
trying to materialize new life.
The evolution of the soul.

Weary spirit,
I engage you,
wish you Godspeed.
May your sojourn
Bring you home.
So that your dirty feet
and worn soul
may be washed
in the basin of my lonely tears
and be replenished
at the oasis
of my desert reservoir
which I will water and tend
so that you may drink.

May your journey
liberate that hurt child
who peers out from within.

May he find a home
and be at peace,
no longer needy.

Let the worries dissipate
and the air be clear
so that your lungs
may fill to capacity
and refuel your tired body.

The path you choose,
I pray,
let it be clear of stones,
if it is not,
let your bloody feet
find their way
to my healing palms
so that I may be
the salve that balms
your feet
with my grace.

Weary one,
let your journey
be expansive.
Receive its lessons,
its enlightenment
but do not over do it.

Let it come to a close
so that the life cord
which I extend
from deep within
my uterus
not snap or break
if overstretched.

Keep the map of my love
close to you.
Read its words
and gifts
with your inner eye.
Let their power
glow inside you.
Let them flow
through you.
Use them to delineate
and guide you.

I will wait outside your door.
He who leaves always returns.
It is the Tao of the universe.
Matter can never be destroyed.
Men are never quelled
only transformed.

May Buddha
hold you in his path.

May you journey
in a circle.

I pray:
May you come home.
May you come home.
May you come home.
Safe and whole.

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By Joy Tucker

Tea garden in spring
Smiling statue of Buddha
Covered in blossoms

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The Craft
By Susan Brooks

No one writes without a base
Of experience in life
And so I write of roots
And rifts and codependency.
I write of colors, Black and
Brown and cultures that I
Love of working women 
And island men, especially
When they’re  young.
To write an ethnic
Point of view can
Be a urgent task.
There’s no  escaping
Responsibility for
Confronting all the isms.
But our live are not only
War and pain and singing
Psalms, but filled with  
Laughter, happy times
And memories galore.
When we are gone,
It will have mattered
How we lived our lives
And whether we stood
Up for truth and had
A spiritual side. It
Matters if we?re healthy
And set a good example
And history will sure
Record both failures 
And success. But
Though it may not 
Change the world,
It helps to make it
Through if we can
Share a joke and
Laugh then exchange
A hug. It is this which
Separates us from tyrants.

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The Reason Why I Cry
By Tuwanda Muhammad

Devoted to the end, fire burned in your eyes
Air ripped from your lungs, your physical demise
Focused on the prize, Focused on what’s right
Knew of the danger, but sacrificed your life

Hate for hate, Love for love
Now your soul has wings, flying up above
I see pictures of your face, fire burns in your eyes
I lost a pearl; This is the reason why I cry

War is the answer, the name of the game
Different years, different weapons
But, death is still the same
Peacefully coexist, that would be nice
Until then the price is your life

You left a seed, planted here on earth
A son without a father, not the last or the first
He looks like you, he has your eyes
He will miss you; This is the reason why I cry

Your soul has wings, flying up above
Hate for hate, bullets not hugs
Tears shed over blood, nothing justifies
She lost a pearl; This is the reason why I cry

The world is an oyster, gone is a precious pearl
You tried so hard, to bring peace to the world
I hope one day, your life won’t be in vain
You are not here, but your spirit will remain

Hate for hate, Love for love
Now your soul has wings, flying up above
I see pictures of your face, fire burns in your eyes
We lost a pearl; This is the reason why I cry

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The Beauty of What Once Was
By Elizabeth McNally

In this darkest of dark nights
over walls built
to keep saviours out
and persecuted spirits in,
they came.
Carried on tiny motes-
shards of starlight
They drifted
from a golden yellow room
Where men drank freely,
while others bowed and frail
picked up the instruments of lighter days.
They lovingly caressed
and coaxed
the beauty of what once was.

Burnished wood
slipped under a cheek
made hollow by ignorance,
Under eyes made vacant
by the endless nightmare,
Over a heart that contains the seed
of what cannot be taken
A skeleton’s arm
rose and bent
As stiffened fingers pressed
to find
the beauty of what once was

In a golden yellow room
Gossamer threads
moved over taut strings
that had known another’s touch
Taken from a mountain
of broken dreams
she was carried here
by one who loved her
As she warmed once more
in a loving embrace
she sang in remembrance
of the beauty of what once was.

From a golden yellow room
The notes escaped
on light that seeped
from half opened windows
Under doors intended
to shut out completely
the beauty of what once was.

They travelled through the dark night
Suspended in starlight
guided by moonglow
To the ears of the condemned
To those who feared
the world no longer heard them -
and the beauty of what once was.

From a golden yellow room
The notes descended
Into hearts famished by loss
Into minds starved by loathing
Eyes that no longer slept
were closed and lulled
Lids pulled gently down
By the haunting music…
By the beauty of what once was.

On shards of starlight
from a golden yellow room
The notes danced
over broken bodies
and their sprits rose
once more
to break free
and travel
where the music beckoned
To a sunlit meadow
To a noisy family table
To a lover’s first kiss
To the forgotten sound
of laughter -
To those things held in the heart
And to that which cannot be taken

In this darkest of dark nights
This gift of music arrived
Bringing with it hope
And carried by the light
Of the beauty of what once was.

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Here With Us Today (for Daniel)
By Amir Zaki

You spent your life doing what you believed, And that's the highest
 place of all, a man can ever reach, Life can be unfair, if seen
individually, But we know there's some balance for life to Be.

 You balanced for the angry,
 And your work has been received,
You balanced for the forceful,
 You confirmed our peace belief.

 Daniel our friend, we see what you've done, And you'll always be
 alive, in Everyone, Who can see the sunrise, and live another day...
So Daniel you're here with us today...
 Yes Daniel you're here with us today,
 Years may pass, but you'll BE WITH US that day, And Daniel, you're
 here with me today.

 Your family's called Pearl
 And I can see that it's true,
 It's like they always knew,
 That you will shine.

 Everyone of us, sees you with awe,
 Like a hero taking a fall,
For the ones he leaves behind

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Pure and Evil
By Dorit Noga

Danny you are breaking news
Chills run down my spine
evil killed you
senseless murder
opposite of all
you are.

Bow down in respect, oh evil
kneel down and lay down and beg for your soul for you are not worthy
of warm smiles and music not worthy of all that is he.


Words for Daniel Pearl, a collection of poems written by students of the Performing and Visual Arts Academy, Birmingham High School 10/10/2006

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A Man the World
By Gilmar Romero

An outgoing guy, Daniel Pearl
He was loved by many and now
honored by most

He knew the rhythm of music
and walked to a different beat

When he stepped somewhere
It was with compassion and joy

Always keeping an open mind
to others
and himself

The world to him was like a book
just waiting
to be read

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By Jazzae De Waal

Born a gifted writer
He is the man
our world has grown
to know

A talented reporter
 who put his life
 on the line
 just to inform others
The charismatic type,
a man who loved life
and all of its wonders
was robbed of something
so precious
it left us to ponder...

Who these people were
and why would they do such a thing,
taking the life of another human being.

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Where'd You Go?
By Diane Aguilar

Speak the truth, let it show
What we are all dying to know
Words and music were your passion
Until you were put in a world full of misery and disaster Your fate had been chosen Your loved ones to mourn Hoping to hear you walk through their door

A place in our hearts you will have
Where we remember your humor and generosity and of course more than that

Know that your work and love
is and was treasured
A monument - you stand to us
Here and evermore.

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Our Wish
By Suwako Nagata

1. If from above our heads missiles and bombs
were not being dropped but rather books and notebooks.
We shall be liberated from ignorance and prejudice,
and we shall stop fighting and live together in peace.

2. If on the earth there was not the sound of bombing
that could be heard but the sound of music.
We shall not be scared by terror and hatred,
and we shall be able to sing the song of liberty.

3. If under this ground there were not buried,
landmines or the like but seeds of wheat and corn,
we shall not be suffering from starvation and hurt.
And we shall share everything and live together in peace.

4. If one wish can be realized, let's abandon all wars.
And make this whole world full of love and peace
Until our wish comes true we shall be fighting.
And we shall be marching for everyone in this world.

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By Sherolynn "Kim" Ewing

If there's a mountain, go on and move it
It's a little inconvenient, but it's time to start
getting to it...been sitting around too long.
And there's an angel, who's right behing you, but you
keep playing hide and seek and it's getting really
hard to find you, you're running way to fast.

Well, you can blame it on your mother, you can blame it on your dad. You can
blame it on the things you had or never ever had but while your busy pointing
fingers....somebodys waiting on you.

And there's a world now, it really scares you, 'cause
it seems so unright and nobody that it's fair to...
who's it fair to?  It makes you angry, they should
have told you, like it was some big secret and you
bought in all the lies they sold're such
a victim

Well, you can blame it on you mother, you can blame it on your dad, you can
blame it on the things you had or never ever had, you can blame it on the
government or adam and eve you can pass it off on theories that you don't even
believe, but while your busy pointing fingers....sombodys waiting on you...

Procrastination, retaliation, and if we try real hard we can masqurade our own
salvation. Quit hiding. It's in the mirror, reflecting truth. Look in the eyes
of a victim and the heart of another excuse. What do you see?

Well, you can blame it on your mother, you can blame it on your dad, you can
blame it on the things you had or never ever had, you can blame it on the
government or adam and eve, you can pass it off on theories that you don't even
believe, you can blame it on the kids in school for pushing you around, you can
blame it on relationships and never make a sound......and while you're busy
pointing fingers....
somebodys pointing one

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Ode to the Angel of Speech
By Katalina Lozano

Your love of literature and music set a powerful course.
Studying every word and note without an ounce of remorse.

Everywhere you went you eagerly had a pen and notebook in hand.
Your gift of instruemnt playing is so beautiful one would say that you belong in a band.

The brave heart within you was both determined and honest.
Your loyalty and kindness kept you from writing anything that would tarnish.

And although you died long before your life reached its end,
Forever will you be everyone's freind.

You died as a journalist but your soul symbolizes a hero.
Daniel Pearl, your legacy continues with each tomorrow.

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Passion - poem
By Angie Mack

My passion for humanity burns and radiates a light
It might be that I know the truth, but I don't always do what's right
So forgive me if I slip, I skip a beat asleep at night
When I say bad things, bad things it brings, but I'm still fighting a good

I don't carry much anger these days, weighs a ton and ain't much fun
Or use, unless transmuted for a higher cause, so pause
Before you take a lower emotion in the name of one higher
Try a little compassion in the place of that fire

Am I one with my people if not one with myself?
Still negotiating a path between good and ill health
Consumerism and real wealth, richness within and without
Though I wear a smile most days I still have my doubts

Yeah I marched on that day till my feet were sore
Is democracy where a few decide we go to war?
But I still haven't used my vote - quote me on this line:
Why replace one bad system with another?
Men and power often equals crime
Seems we don't learn lessons taught by time
And ignore history's lessons that minds
Are fickle and forget easily
So why rock the boat if everything's good for me?

Maybe the awakening may seem rude
It'll take some effort but it's overdue
Try living a life lived true
Align with creation, there's nothing you can't do
So work first on the foundation, yourself, your heart
The rest is exponential, just like a work of art.

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By Marc Blackbird

Darkness gets Darkness
Light brings Light

Where are you standing?
Stand in the light

Light sees sight
and might is brite

Where are you standing?
Stand in the light

Darkness gets Darkness
Light brings Light

Where are you standing?
Stand in the light

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In Memory of Daniel Pearl
By Lisa Chow

It's Daniel Pearl's birthday today.
He would have been 49 years old.
Already 10 years since his last life on earth.

On this day,
I think of him.
I remember him.
And I'm filled with grief yet gratitude.
Grief for a life taken too early.
Gratitude for his life's impact.

Why couldn't this story have ended differently?
If this were a Hollywood movie,
it would have been gripping, sure:
mystery, drama, suspense--but a happy ending.
Instead, death, sorrow, tormented bawls, inconsolable wails.

The Pearl family did the godly thing:
Left revenge up to God
Decided to fight hatred with love
Just as Jesus would have done.

Triumph came out of tragedy.
Like a phoenix rising out of fiery ashes.
Angst matured into pro-activeness.
Inner anguish manifested into outward victory.

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