The conTempT i Bare For WaiTing TaBles - Kathryn Novelli

Ali al Asghar

by Steven Thomas Bock

The occurrence in question is the Battle of Karbala where an infant named Ali al Asghar, among many more children not even able to conceive the notions of war and prejudice, was killed by such evils. His short life and unjust death separated from my own existence by centuries has made a crack, no a canyon, in my soul in regards to how I look at war and other means of needless invalidated separation between human beings for “If one is not your brother in faith, he is your brother in humanity.”

He was just a child when he died. His parents and their companions simply on pilgrimage When things got so bad they had to stop even pilgrimage To speak up against the ill treatment of the people. Armed as pilgrims not soldiers They were attacked and entrapped at Karbala By a ratio of more of 400 to each of their mere 72. Child, elder, pregnant with child, woman and man a like Were made to starve and thirst. However what happen to all the children Was enough to make all despise the Caliph. What happen to him alone Was enough to make all despise the Caliph. His father took him - only an infant - to give to his oppressors So they would give him water As their shared scripture says not to harm the children. Before he could even be handed off, He received a three pronged arrow through his neck. He died too young to understand prejudice and war But old enough to understand love and mercy.

Now despite having no involvement in the events described to you just now besides possible prior ignorance of: I Ask You

... Is a child a treasure or an enemy?

Does it manner if they are Sunni or Shia? For that manner does it manner if they are even Muslim? Is not a child a seed of love life should congregate around? Not death. Not war.

… A child shouldn’t be made to thirst because you don’t agree with their parents. A child shouldn’t be shot because their parents and you have a quarrel. If you can love Allah in His infinite complexity, Why not a child in their humble simplicity?

How many battles of war, Of mere, Sickening, Evil, Worthless, Terroristic War Are you guilty of being ignorant of the deaths they have caused children? Are you just a whore who gives consent at the cost of ignorance? Do you enjoy mere derivatives of humanity - not even God Such as mere countries, political ideologies, religious sects, material wealth, More than your siblings in humanity?

Bus ride to Nazca (A Positive and Negative Perspective on the Landscape)

by Michael Waite

I Lima fades away, the land is able to breathe again Without the weight of asphalt, its dry, dusty chest rising and falling In the still air. There are some structures scattered on the landscape, A whitewashed house or a wall beckoning the highway with bright painted letters, But wild emptiness easily outnumbers these ruins. Slowly they crumble and rebelliously return to the sand.

II Something came here, something massive and implacable Stopped and rested its terrible bones. Was it one fell swoop or a subtle creep over the years? Does it matter? The result is the result. Pitiful remnants of towns, missing walls and inhabitants. Dry riverbeds lined with trash left for the birds. Survivors go from day to day with the skeletons in full view. Sometimes they whisper in the candlelight, when even the cantina Has gone to sleep, careful not to scare the children Or summon the return of that which took their friends away.

Lost at Sea

by Chrissy Epperson

I grew up in between two beacons of femininity: my sisters pruning themselves like weeds to be the same— painting their faces still finding no traces of what the TV and the magazines promised us if we aligned with their idea of beauty. My mother: a lighthouse projecting gentility. A father who oozed masculinity. And I, wondering if this is the body, the person I was meant to be with the TV and the magazines telling me what to wear straighten your hair don’t you dare get any fatter. And I did push ups until my arms shook perfected a right hook I would never use because boys are afraid to bruise a girl.