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BOSNIA (July 11th, 1995)

Bosnian Muslims pray in front of coffins during a reburial ceremony for dozens of newly identified victims of the 1995 massacre, at the memorial center of Potocari near Srebrenica, 150 km northeast of Sarajevo, Bosnia, July 11, 2017.


all these hatreds
back in action again
like iced-familiars

cold objects
by god-knows-what
by the heat of bodies,
smashed in the eyes of children

waving in the glare of air
sultry and mild
by the dust of centuries

sunlight stipples
the pock-marked churches
turned mosques
as blitz-hardened women
spit out their venom
a little at a time

there's no breaking out of this thin space,
trapped in this time and place,
the shell-shocked people
tumbling right back to holy

dawn deformed by the lurid skies
men's eyes, glazed
by the fires of time,
look through the enemy air,
staring into the future
seeing only the past. 




◄ Ice creams on a Sunday



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Wed 12th Jun 2024 16:53

Powerful poem. Sorrowful history through the lens of poetry.

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David RL Moore

Wed 12th Jun 2024 16:13

The truth and reconciliation commisions established in the Balkans have not gained traction and thus there is still huge division, corruption and economic instability.

There has to be a will to reconcile. It seems there has never been a majorative desire to investigate the seeds of division in a way that might bring a lasting harmony.

Much of the human division has been agitated by the strategic geographic and economic fragility of the region.

Lands which have seen religious migrations at relatively frequent historic intervals have rarely been at peace.


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