Color of Gaza
Poems and Photographs out
under strict © Copyright, July, 2010 by Dr. Dennis L. Siluk, Ed.D.) (No photographs maybe used or taken from this page unless
authorized by the copyright holder and those who do will be sought for prosecution))
are over fifty pictures total: here are nine
(Note: The author has just returned from
“Writing this section
called: ‘The Color of Gaza’ has
tears to my eyes, what more can I say! “Dlsiluk
“I believed that man will not merely endure: he will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone
among creatures has an inexhaustible voice but he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance.
The poet’s, the writer’s, duty is to write about these things.”
(From his Nobel Prize Speech, December10, 1950)
We are ordinary
men and women, and therefore, all things are possible, we cannot afford to wait and let things take their own course, for
those whom are doomed to be shutout forever; we, who are not condemned to an ongoing war, to an outdoor prison as it is in
Gaza, cannot think what it means, the endless longing to see the gates open and to be able to join the rest of humanity, I
am talking about Gaza. And this brings me to the point of showing you some pictures of Gaza, I call it “The Color of
Gaza,” this is the color of Gaza here and now, the pictures have never been seen before, other than me putting them
on the internet, now they are here in this book for your review.
As I look at these pictures over and over, I am breathing a low murmur, unintentionally, the shock of this is too much
for my system, even though I have myself been in war (Vietnam, 1971), and I know it is exacting to say the least. I want to
blame Israel, and I want to blame Hamas, they are both guilty, one for doing what they feel has to be done: that is, to insure
their safety and to keep their lifestyle in-check; the other for allowing the children to be their shields, allowing this
to continue without making or trying to make peace, with maintaining the old credo of destroying Israel at any cost. But then,
there is room in Hell for the whole lot of them, meaning Israel
and Hamas together, to settle their disputes. Anyhow, one side cannot take the
risk alone, lest they want their backyard turned into ruins. Thus, by not taking sides, I leave the pictures for your discretion,
and I hope if you point fingers, it is at both sides—too often, the United Nations is not very united, other than being
semi united as a one sided monster when it comes to Israel, and we all know they are not very bending for that side. Dennis L. Siluk
and Photographs out of Gaza
1) While Gaza Sleeps
(A poem for Gaza)
As they lead Gaza through the long hallway,
They carve yellow blisters into their souls
To let them know, stick to the right corridor.
“They drag us around Gaza as if it were a
prison camp, blisters on our feet,
No ventilator from the constant bombardment
No socks, just fading blue veins, and we try to sleep.
Our skin is redden, black navels, undershirts
all sweat, shoulders to the waist.
They inject shame into the fissures of our skin,
line us up like beasts of pry.
Then they stand before us with stiffen starched
uniforms, yelling at us—the warmth of humankind
has left them, and us; underneath
our skins are all the buttons to war, they think
their five pointed star will protect them
because they carry the blood of heroes, but
it is all clotted with hate, and we all wail at night!
There is no privacy here, in Gaza, we live in
stalls, like horses (just to exist, sleep) facing each
other, close as a brother, frowning with clinched
hand grips on AK 47s, and M16s, upon where
blue veins perturb. And every one, one and all
have spiked fingers, spiked hearts: everyone
one and all, trying to find a narrow opening,
for an intrinsic enemy that never leaves oneself.”
No: 2761 (7-28-2010);
Dedicated to Gaza
2) Red Sweater
“Perhaps you don’t know this
But everyone else does
I am not a soldier; I’m a little girl,
nine years old.
All this land called Gaza
is a DMZ.
I do not bear arms against anyone.”
There she stands, intensely, bowl
in hand, her only sweater is red
she’s wearing it…
(she’s a pretty dark eyed girl, with long
dark hair) in bittersweet misery. All
around her, debris from war, no one
consoling her (Gaza—being more like
an army camp, blown apart).
What will she think in passing years?
When years later, she’ll become a woman?
Perhaps she’ll put on a uniform,
no longer shy and embarrassed
of her plight.
Now silently she holds back her tears,
knowing, every little girl in this land,
will sometime have to cry, but not today
She also knows someday but not today,
she’ll have to figure out the path
of life she’ll take, in this DMZ.
No: 2762 (7-28-2010)
Dedicated to the Little Girl in the
You can’t tell one from the other
For a moment in the streets the rain of terror has stopped
—the bombardment of rockets and bullets and other such things,
say most, every man, woman, child, dog has hidden
from its deadly spray: one not even a
have survived in…
On these days in Gaza, and there are many of these days,
seek the magic of prayer
(this is not like the American movies:
here, you have real corpses
to read about in the papers—)
We had our markets, and shops
All blown to bits…
Flying metal stubbed in our children’s heads, throats and chests…
Even early in the Mornings
Even during love Making
Some even half buried half alive!
Never any Silence.
No: 2762 (7-29-2010)
4) Sackcloth War
If only time could run backwards—
where those in Gaza
would not have to squat in candlelight,
or walk in blazing 130 Fahrenheit
like cockroaches dodging—night and day—
the flash and heat of warfare
to become crematorium ash!
Where the missiles enter Gaza,
concrete blasts back,
bodies are filled with phosphorus;
children will be found unborn—
in this ongoing sackcloth War!
No: 2763 (7-29-2010)
Special Notes on Gaza
Enduring): I grew up in the Midwestern part of the United States (Minnesota),
I can recall looking back now—a bit foggy, but nonetheless, clear enough: at the young girls and boys I went to school
with, but particularly the young girls, and as I look back I can see a high level of sunlight in their hair, and on their
faces, it all became delicately brilliant as a hummingbird’s; their eyes near-violet, perhaps more blue and green and
hazel, but as I look back, near-violet somehow, and in their faces was that tranquil repose of daisies swishing in the wind. I’m talking about a normal life, about a happy soul, children having fun, and
what’s the news we get out of Gaza for the Children?
As you can see in the few pictures provided here (and on every-day news broadcasts):
to the contrary.
This is—for the most part—a
mixed up sort of message, one I don’t fully understand, what each side of this war, each party on each side of this
war—perhaps more like an extended conflict—between a narrow strip
of land, what they are trying to tell me—no, not me, tell the whole world at large. Why are they using children the
way they do, and damaging them in the process to prove a point that one side is worse than the other, when in essence, both
are pretty much equal to the other: Why, tell me why! Do they have to stay put, and endure for the sake of enduring man’s incapability to work things out.
This is the straight message I get, perhaps we all get: maybe the war is a pretty
good thing for the two sides warring, I don’t know—and if you say: “How can you talk that way” it
is simple: the children have to live with these bullheaded guests on God’s earth, never giving them satisfaction, only
tears over their cheeks, never having a word in this ongoing feud, never able to say “We’ve had enough!”.
with Firmament Stars): If this war is to stop, one must see it for what it is—and
it is plainly no more than a ‘Tug-of-‘war’ between the legends
of the past and the reality of the present with opposing forces to be destroyed or maimed or even tortured to prove a point..
We see here two sides who have formulated grand designs and blindly devoted themselves to realizing them without the other’s
presence, and now one side is enslaved by the other by an abstract concept—both sides thereby detaching themselves dangerously
from reality: because both sides want the ultimate roof of things.
Let met end this Special Note with
this: all these folks (those folks)—Jew and Arab alike—talking about heaven and “Help me God this, and Help
me God that,” who are indirectly and directly responsible for the onslaught of killing and harming of children in this
so called war, or call it: an ongoing conflict in Gaza, putting children in harms way, aren’t going there, I assure
you of that—“Why?” because that wouldn’t be heaven to have someone like you up there. The evil smoke
you produce trails behind you, it doesn’t fade.
A Short History of Gaza
already in historical documents that go back to the Pharaoh Thoutmes III (1504-1450 BC), the one who made Gaza
the operational headquarters in his campaign against Syria,
introducing their own Egyptian deities.
Towards the 12th century (1198-1166 BC) Ramsis III invades and conquers Gaza, which was the main pass for the caravans that were bound toward for the northern part.
Gaza was witness of the exploit and tragic end of Samson.
Successively Gaza was under several regiments: Egyptian,
Babylonian and Persian…
Una Breve Historia de Gaza
Version en Español
Gaza aparece ya en
documentos históricos que se remontan al faraón Thoutmes III (1504-1450 -C), quien hizo de Gaza la base de operaciones en
su campaña contra Siria, introduciendo las deidades propias egipcias.
Hacia el siglo XII
(1198-1166 -C) Ramsis III invade y conquista Gaza, que era el paso obligado de las caravanas que se dirigían al norte.
fue testigo de la gesta y trágico fin de Sansón.
Sucesivamente Gaza estuvo bajo varios regimenes:
egipcio, babilónico y persa