Peace by Piece

Imagine walking calmly down debris strewn streets littered with crushed and overturned vehicles, as well as the remains of demolished buildings, on your way to school. The buildings on either side of you are pockmarked with hundreds of bullet holes, maybe thousands, you don’t know for sure because there are far too many to count, and more appear on a daily to weekly basis. You round a corner to see a military tank prowling down the next street over, its steady growl as the treads crunch the mangled road is a constant reminder that your neighborhood is occupied by people who would kill you without a moment’s hesitation. A bomb or a bullet could take you out before you even reach the run down old building that serves as your schoolhouse. Even so, you don’t run, you don’t rush, you simply continue on your way as you always have because this is the way that your life has always been. You are twelve years old.

This sad scenario is a tragic reality for countless Palestinian children living in the West Bank and the Gaza Strip. A place where their homes could be bulldozed down and demolished into nothing without prior notice, where military tanks shoot high-powered weapons at children for throwing harmless rocks at armored vehicles. A place where childhood consists of burying your friends and family, sometimes after helping pick their body parts up off of the street, where making hand grenades for the resistance is an acceptable pastime, and where a child’s favorite game is “Arabs and Jews,” in which the ultimate goal is to die while fighting your enemy.

Violence is born and bred in the Gaza Strip, and the flames of anger are fanned into explosive wildfires by the Israeli military as they shoot, bomb, and bulldoze down Palestinian lands and homes – all in the name of peace.

There is all this talk about peace, but the word peace is as much a loaded weapon as it is a white flag. It is used as an excuse to oppress a people or nation as often as it is used to liberate them. Another problem with peace is that talking about it is not the same as achieving it. Achieving peace requires taking positive actions that will benefit both sides in a conflict, as well as a willingness, on both sides, to change. This makes peace a very difficult process because people don’t like to change.

The peace between Israel and Palestine has long been shattered – bombed, shot, and broke into so many pieces that putting it back together seems impossible. But the longer that war continues between these two nations, the more pieces are going to be irreparably damaged. Peace must be achieved before there are no pieces left. There is fault on both sides of the conflict, which is why both sides must start taking positive steps towards putting the pieces that are left back together again, peace by piece.

Learn More and Make a Difference:

Read About Both Sides of the Story:

The Lemon Tree: An Arab, a Jew, and the Heart of the Middle East” by Sandy Tolan

What Every American Should Know About the Middle East” by Melissa Rossi

Related Posts:

Only A Little Boy (Poem) – Rhyme N Review

Posted in Essays | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Only A Little Boy (Poem)

Only A Little Boy

“I’m only a little boy” he said,

“why would they want to kill me?”

Yet, he doesn’t want to grow up,

a martyr is what he wants to be.


He wants to die for the cause,

as every young man should do,

Yet, it’s not so much what he

wants, it’s just all he ever knew.


Tanks on the street are common,

gunshots are little cause for alarm,

He’s only a little boy, but he’s

never lived safe from harm.


Much of his family is dead, or if

they’re not, they will be soon,

Twelve years old, he thinks it’s common

to care for your best friend’s tomb.


Bulldozers demolish the houses

in this little boy’s neighborhood,

Leaving nothing but heartbreak and

rubble, where his home once stood.


No one is coming to save him,

the odds are stacked that he’ll fall,

So, in the end it’s easier for him if he

believes he’s answering the martyr’s call.


He knew of no other way of life,

“I’m just a little boy,” he said.

And because two countries cannot

get along, this little boy is dead.


© Donna M. Monnig

This poem was inspired by the documentary “Death in Gaza.”

Related Post: Peace by Piece

Posted in My Poems, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

NaPoWriMo 2015: Thursday Triangle


Thursday Triangle

                                out rather
                              difficult but
                            then, I thought 
                         it was much better
                        when I was given a
                      trillion. This it turned 
                    out was not to be for me
               because nothing in life is ever
             free. It was a joke because I am 
         still broke and will have to continue 
      to work. But that’s okay, it’s still a good
    day, when you can say that you are alive 
and still have the will to survive. So here I am. 
                       ©Donna M. Monnig
I didn’t post this yesterday because my internet was down most of the day what with all the storms. But here it is, still in keeping with my series of Monday Blunderland, Tuesday Trillionaire, Wednesday Without Wealth, and now Thursday Triangle (the NaPoWriMo Prompt was to write a poem and make the words form a shape … or something like that). 
Posted in My Poems, NaPoWriMo 2015, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

NaPoWriMo 2015: Wednesday Without Wealth




Wednesday Without Wealth

Yesterday, I wrote that,
I was a trillionaire,
I was grinning like a cat,
with a Cheshire grin so rare!
But listen if you will,
as I tell of fickle fate,
For my trillion dollar bill,
it turns out it was fake!
So, I retract what I said,
goodbye happiness and health,
my finances are dead,
this Wednesday I’m without wealth!
©Donna M. Monnig
Trillion Dollar Bill
Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a palinode – a poem in which you retract a statement made in an earlier poem. I don’t know if this was a true palinode, but it was fun to retract what I wrote in “Tuesday Trillionaire.”
Posted in My Poems, NaPoWriMo 2015, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

NaPoWriMo 2015: Tuesday Trillionaire

Trillion Dollar Bill

Tuesday Trillionaire

My Monday started out so wrong,
One blunder after another!
But today is like a song,
I love it like no other!
For as I was closing down last night,
I found something so very rare,
This bill was left for me, that’s right,
I’m now, officially, a trillionaire!
©Donna M. Monnig
Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write about money. This is based on a true story too, I was given a trillion dollar bill yesterday – who knew Lincoln was on it and the five dollar bill! Gotta love fake money … except if it’s a tip …  :)
Posted in My Poems, NaPoWriMo 2015, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

NaPoWriMo 2015: Monday Blunderland


Monday Blunderland

As I awoke to the sound of my alarm,
I look at my clock – and scream!
Now, I’ve never been taken in by morning’s charm,
I much prefer night with perchance to dream.
But on this morning, on this date,
As I stare, digital numbers glaring at me.
I realize that I’m late, I’m late,
With no time even for a cup of Irish tea.
My clock it seems jumped out of hand,
As out of bed jumped me, myself, and I.
I felt like I’d entered into Blunderland,
My clock was an hour long with no reason why.
As I rushed through my broken daybreak,
I knew I’d be late to work, there was no other way,
I questioned how my clock could forsake,
When suddenly, it was explained in a word – Monday!
©Donna M. Monnig
Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write an aubade, which is essentially a morning poem dealing with dawn and/or daybreak. Also, the prompt suggested making it into a Monday poem seeing as it’s Monday. (This is a mostly true story by the way!) What’s your best (or worst) Monday story?
Posted in My Poems, NaPoWriMo 2015, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

NaPoWriMo 2015: The Bunny and the Cross

- picture from Wikimedia Commons by Sergey Tarasenko

– picture from Wikimedia Commons by Sergey Tarasenko

The Bunny and the Cross

There is this thing called money,
It is loved by corporations.
They monetized the Easter Bunny,
Cashing in on holiday preparations.
Stores are filled with candy and toys,
In the early spring each year.
And it delights young girls and boys,
When Easter morning nears.
For they know the Easter Rabbit,
Will pay a visit, with candy to their home.
And it has become such a habit,
That Easter’s meaning is nearly gone.
But corporations happily ignore,
That meaning and tradition are lost.
For, which will sell better, they’re sure,
Is the bunny, not the cross.
©Donna M. Monnig
Seeing as it’s Easter, I decided not to go with the NaPoWriMo prompt this morning.
What’s your opinion, do you think the meaning of Easter has been lost in corporate America? 
Posted in My Poems, NaPoWriMo 2015, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments