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Bloody Haiti

Poem Written By Reginal Souffrant

The ground keeps shaking:

Shock after shock…

A scared child is screaming

After being hit by a pointy rock.

 

Suddenly, dust is dancing in the air

And covers the whole atmosphere.

Dust has replaced make-ups, powder

And has tarnished the beauty of Ms. Flower.

 

Tearful eyes can only see red

Because blood is everywhere.

Under heavy rubbles lie the dead

For whom hope will come from nowhere.

Falling heavy concretes rule like a king;

Their verdicts make you guilty or innocent.

Their severe pronouncements are so disheartening

That they may stop life in a very somber accent.

 

In Ayiti, Earth creates lives,

But earthquakes take away lives.

A paradise is torn down by a pitiless earthquake,

And streams of blood are running like a roaring lake.

Despair has become a home, a prison

As hell seems to be the final destination.

Mother Earth trembles!

Ayiti is screaming under rubbles.

Aftershocks slap, hit and punish.

Tortured Ayiti is mourning, deploring her fate…

Her dying cries simply vanish…

Because it is just too, too late…

 

Doctors and nurses flying to rescue Ayiti

Are being warned: «Step back! ».

Eagle-soldiers seeking to destroy Ayiti

Are being greeted: «Welcome back!

Welcome back after 1934!

Welcome back to kill the dream of 1804!

Ayitians are allergic to all medicines;

Let us give them guns and assassins!»

 

Ayiti is crying…

The Eagle-soldier is rejoicing.

Ayiti is crumbling!!!!

…but the Eagle-soldier is applauding;

When Ayiti is agonizing,

His profits_the Eagle-soldier is accumulating.

 

To the Eagle, Ayiti’s calamity

Means dividend, privilege and opportunity.

Death, tears, pains and tragedy

Equal triumph, barbecue and festivity.

This deadly earthquake is not a natural calvary,

But an 1804 curse imposed by the Almighty.

 

Péralte* and his Kako** better fly away,

For the Eagle-soldier is here to stay

To secure Ayiti’s untouched oil

As a reserve stock for a future scarcity of oil.

 

Music created by Ayitians sounds like death.

Their language accentuates like death;

Their gestures mimic death;

Their voices resonate like death;

So, the prize for their freedom must be death.

 

Once again, Mother Earth trembles!

Ayiti is screaming under thick rubbles.

Aftershocks slap, hit and punish.

Tortured Ayiti is mourning, deploring her fate…

Her dying cries in the air simply vanish…

Because it is just too, too late.

 

*Charlemagne Péralte: led a guerrilla movement again U.S occupation of Ayiti from

  1915-1934. He was killed by the US Marine. His body was displayed for hours as a general deterrence.

**Kako or Caco: name given to the guerrilla movement headed by C. Péralte.

 

 

Réginal Souffrant

New York, January 31, 2010.

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