Posted in 000 Poets, 100, Musicians, The BeZine Table of Contents

100TPC Event Today … Link in your poems, art, stories, film, music, videos for peace, sustainability and social justice with an emphasis on poverty and hunger

<img class="size-custom" title="Hand of Fire, Hand of Creation
Moshe Dekel (age 5)” src=”” alt=”Hand of Fire, Hand of Creation
Moshe Dekel (age 5)” width=”2389″ height=”1548″>
Hand of Fire, Hand of Creation by Moshe Dekel (age 5)

Welcome to the 5th year of 100,000 Poets (Musicians, Artists, Mimes…) for Change, and the 2015 edition of The BeZine Online 100TPC Event! If you’ve done this before and you know the score, skip to the comments or Mister Linky at the bottom of the post and begin. If you are wondering, hey, what are you folks up to then check out some serious non-fiction here:

Our mission here today as poets, writers, artists, photographers, musicians and friends is a sort-of fission for change—a burning with and expression of the desire for peace, environmental and economic sustainability, social justice, inclusion, equity and opportunity for all. We seek through our art to do a bit of old-fashioned consciousness raising, to stimulate thought and action leading to the kind of change that is sustainable, compassionate and just, and to engage in the important theme of the issues facing humanity today—but all with a goal to alleviate suffering and foster peace. We don’t want to just “talk about it,” we want words, art and music that help us take action in some way for positive change wherever we are in our lives, in our world.

We see a complex inter-woven relationship between peace, sustainability, and social justice. We all recognize that when people are marginalized and disenfranchised, when they are effectively barred from opportunities for education and viable employment, when they can’t feed themselves or their families or are used as slave labor, there will inevitably be a backlash, and we’re seeing that now in violent conflicts, wars and dislocation. Climatologists have also linked climate change, with its severe weather changes and recent droughts, to the rise violence in the world, and even contributing to inequities in areas – like Syria – where a severe drought destabilized food production and the economy, contributing to the unrest that led to the civil war, according to one study.

Jerusalem in an unprecedented dust storm that engulged much of the Mideast, linked by one climate scientist to the Syrian civial war and ISIS conflict
Jerusalem in an unprecedented dust storm that engulfed much of the Mideast, linked by one climate scientist to the Syrian civil war and ISIS conflict

There are too many people living on the streets and in refugee camps, too many whose lives are at subsistence level, too many children who die before the age of five (as many as four a minute dying from hunger, according to one reliable study—more info), too many youth walking through life with no education, no jobs and no hope. It can’t end well…

Syrian refugee camp, photo: The Telegraph
Syrian refugee camp
photo: The Telegraph

More than anything, our mission is a call to action, a call to work in your own communities where ever you are in the world, and to focus on the pressing local issues that contribute to conflict, injustice, and unsustainable economic and environmental practices. The kind of change we need may well have to be from the ground up, all of us working together to create peaceful, sustainable and just cultures that nurture the best in all the peoples of this world.

Poverty and homelessness are evergreen issues historically, but issues also embedded in social and political complexity. They benefit the rich, whose economic system keeps most of the rest of us as, at best, “wage slaves,” and all too many of us in poverty, without enough to provide for basic needs or housing (including the “working poor,” who hold low-paying jobs while CEOs are paid record-breaking salaries and bonuses in the global capitalist system). We are united in our cries against the structures of injustice, where the rich act as demigods and demagogues. We have to ask of what use will all their riches be in the face of this inconceivable suffering and the inevitable backlash from the marginalized and disenfranchised. We need fairness, not greed.

So, with this mission in mind, and with the complexity of the interrelationships of social justice, sustainability and peace as a framework, we focus on hunger and poverty, two basic issues and major threads in the system of inequality and injustice that need addressing throughout the world.

We look forward to what you have to share, whether the form is poetry, essay, fiction, art, photography, documentary, music, or hybrids of any of these—and we want to engage in an ongoing conversation through your comments on all of the above as you not only share your own work here today but visit and enjoy the work of others, supporting one another with your “likes” and comments, starting or entering into dialogues with writers, artists and musicians throughout the world and online viewers, readers, listeners.

Think globally, act locally, form community.

—Michael Dickel, Jerusalem (with G. Jamie Dedes, California, USA)


Share links to your relevant work or that of others in a comment or by using Mister Linky below. To use Mr. Linky, just click on the graphic. (Note: If you are sharing someone else’s work, please use your name in Mister Linky, so we can credit you as the contributor—we will give the author / artist name in the comments, from the link when we post the link in a comment.)

You may leave your links or works in the comment section below this post. If you are sharing the work of another poet or artist, however, please only use a link and not the work itself.

In addition to sharing, we encourage you to visit others and make connections and conversation. To visit the links, click on Mr. Linky (the Mister Linky graphic above) and then on the links you see there. (Some Mr. Linky-links can be viewed in the comments section after we re-post them.)

Thank you! 

All links will be collected into a dedicated Page here at The BeZine and also archived at 100TPC.

Thank you for your participation. Let the conversation begin …


The focus of "The BeZine," a publication of The Bardo Group Beguines, is on sacred space (common ground) as it is expressed through the arts. Our work covers a range of topics: spirituality, life, death, personal experience, culture, current events, history, art, and photography and film. We share work here that is representative of universal human values however differently they might be expressed in our varied religions and cultures. We feel that our art and our Internet-facilitated social connection offer a means to see one another in our simple humanity, as brothers and sisters, and not as “other.” This is a space where we hope you’ll delight in learning how much you have in common with “other” peoples. We hope that your visits here will help you to love (respect) not fear. For more see our Info/Mission Statement Page.

180 thoughts on “100TPC Event Today … Link in your poems, art, stories, film, music, videos for peace, sustainability and social justice with an emphasis on poverty and hunger

  1. My father oils the spare spine.
    ‘You will need this’, He says.

    I shall need more changes
    in my pocket. The funny
    thing- if you give away them
    more you possess in the end.

    ‘Be the change’, he says, his
    favorite quote, his hands
    blurred from the movement,
    a spine more and a spine less,

    he says, Take care of this.
    These days, he says, ‘They don’t make
    spines anymore. Just GPS.’
    Oh yes, I say. I twist my head,

    place it on the side table.
    My father inserts spine’s end.

    And I begin to change.
    My heart rings and tings
    from the looseness of spares.
    I shall give you some

    if you come with me
    to the hooting rally.

    ©All Rights- Kushal Poddar, 2015 (written on 11/September/15) Shared with permission at request of poet.


  2. Asking For It

    I ask for change from
    the ATM.

    I ask for change from
    the rallies, assemblies.

    Begging changes me,
    you know. I have

    all craving and no need.
    I want change and no aim.

    Imagine you changing
    into a new polka dot.

    Imagine the curtains
    changed for the festival.

    All craving and no need.
    I want change and no aim.

    I rub the sky, dust, clean.
    Inside a cloud, a cage;

    inside the cage, a song;
    I sing and change. Imagine

    me changing into white,
    into something remains

    before you unseen,
    envelope you without
    you ever knowing.

    ©All Rights- Kushal Poddar, 2015 Shared with permission at request of poet.


  3. “Show Me Your Hatred”
    (Raanana, June 13, 2015)

    Show me your hatred and
    I’ll show you my evil.
    Show me your evil and
    I’ll show you my hatred.
    Show me your evil today
    And I’ll show you my hatred tomorrow.
    You showed me your hatred yesterday
    So I’ll show you my evil today.
    My good is your evil
    So I’ll show you my hatred.
    Show me your hatred
    And your evil will be my good.
    Show me your hatred and
    I’ll show you my evil
    And you’ll show me your hatred
    And I’ll show you my evil.
    Hatred and evil are an open coffin
    That won’t be closed until
    Every mother’s son,
    Every young wife’s husband,
    And every child’s father
    Is laid inside.
    Show me your hatred and
    I’ll show you my evil.
    God will say Kaddish,
    God will say Kaddish.

    —Mike Stone

    Liked by 1 person

  4. “Flying with a Broken Wing”
    (Raanana, June 19, 2015)

    They say that the faster you go in time
    The slower you go in space.
    They say a lot of things,
    Mostly things that hurt your ears.
    Sometimes they don’t say anything at all,
    Anything that would make you want
    To take another breath above the ground.
    Daisy is a good listener.
    She seems to understand every nuance.
    You can tell by the way her eyes search
    Through the depths of words,
    Shifting the delicate balance of them
    Between her furrowed brows,
    And sometimes sniffing for other
    Indications of meaning.
    Nothing thoughtless or mendacious
    Ever comes out of her mouth,
    Except when she howls at the moon
    Sometimes, but who knows?
    The point is we’re all going around in circles,
    The stars, the sun, and the moon,
    Our world, our wars and our peace,
    Our gestures, our words, and our thoughts,
    Like a bird flying with a broken wing.

    —Mike Stone

    Liked by 1 person

  5. “Potentates of the Potential”
    (Raanana, July 25, 2015)

    For most of our existence
    We are either dead or unborn
    In our isolated crumb of universe.
    Potentates of the potential,
    Stars of a meaningless singleton
    We are.
    Cuncta pro nil, nihil pro omnibus
    All for nothing, nothing for all.
    Life lies in ambush
    Waiting to pounce on our long lethargies
    When least expected
    For another meaningless singleton
    Now I wake me up from sleep,
    I pray the Lord
    My head won’t be chopped
    Before my time
    By some misguided child and rusty knife
    Just because he can,
    Not that it matters in the scheme of things,
    But one small hope springs forth,
    Lightweight from being foundationless,
    That some poetic challenger will escape
    The gravity of our petty fears and hatreds
    And find its way to some new earth
    Pristine from evil spared.


  6. “By the River Jordan”
    (Raanana, August 5, 2015)

    Once upon a time forgotten,
    Or so they say,
    God walked alongside Abraham
    On goat paths crisscrossing mountains
    When they were still new and green,
    When Moriah was not yet named.
    But sometime later God took his angels
    And his box of miracles to his bosom
    Leaving us to our own devices,
    Existentialism and science.
    Perhaps because our faith was not enough,
    Because we understood the letter
    And not the spirit,
    Because His creation could not create
    But only destroy itself,
    He left us to ourselves.
    We fought our enemies oh so bravely
    But, when the enemy was ourselves, capitulated.
    Now we live in a moral flatland,
    Two dimensional creatures on a yellowing page
    Without height or depth.
    We kill because we can,
    We hate and hatred makes a home of death.
    By the River Jordan,
    By the caves of Qumran,
    By the hills of Jerusalem,
    We lay down and wept for thee Zion.


    1. Mike, how powerful and powerfully sad. “We kill because we can/We hate and hatred maes a home of death” … Thank you for your contribution here to day. Jamie Dedes/on behalf of The Bardo Group/Beguine Again.

      Liked by 2 people

  7. I’m a little unsure about the posting procedure, but it seems I’m invited to paste work relevant to the theme right here. I offer two poems. The first, *The Spirit of Giving, *is a nasty little satire inspired by some patronizing remarks I overheard at a social gathering. The second, *A Homeless Man, *springs from a conversation I had with a man in downtown Vancouver.

    The Spirit of Giving

    Thanks be for the constant housework and clutter that makes me leap daily for mop and dustpan– no time for thinking of things that might matter to millions who suffer in less-happy lands. But the brown folks are used to the murders and rapes, infant impalements and girl-child castrations; they’re used to contending with wounds all-agape, teeming with maggots and gross infestations– I’m not, but I do make my own contribution to a brown child, each month, in a land far away. I look on the money as just retribution for being so white and well out of the fray. It’s the least I can do for my suffering brothers who live in such squalor and terror each day. They’d all have nice houses, if I had my druthers– but I don’t, and this thinking gives aches in my head, so I’ll hand-wash the crystal, then get me to bed.

    © clark cook

    10 June 2014.


    he stands slack in the queue, thin body bowed
    in a vertical curve that disguises height,
    makes him a shuffling gnome
    long mud-crusted coat
    dirty body in dirty sneakers
    stands and shuffles
    stands and shuffles
    gets his stew, white bread, coffee
    keeps dimmed eyes down so the cheerful lady
    won’t talk to him
    she knows nothing anyway
    of his plunge
    from boardroom to here.

    he eats alone
    mouth trembling at the edge of the bowl
    spoon scooping
    wipes his mouth with a dirty hand
    into the dark slicing rain and cold wind
    last night—he
    doesn’t know how—he
    lost his toque his
    balding head cold, now
    he knows a cedar tree behind a nearby church
    long thick branches trailing on frozen ground
    its long shadow embraces
    his hunched approach
    he crawls under. . . .

    a coyote
    two half-grown pups
    she snarls and cowers,
    he moves to the other side
    sits with his back to the warm trunk
    it is dry.
    when he awakes, mother coyote and one pup
    are curled together asleep. The other
    is licking gravy
    from his cold dirty hand.

    © clark cook

    6 July 2015

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Thank you Michael for organizing this event once again. For our own sake and the sake of our children, let us pull out of this nose dive and change our ways. There is only one earth, one life for each of us, and one soul yearning in all of us.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I only have the title of “lead” for this event— G Jamie Dedes is the real leader here, and so many others contribute to the blog and BeZine, I am only one of many.

      So, on behalf of all of us at Bardo/ Beguine/ BeZine, I say, thank you.

      Liked by 1 person

  9. Jamie suggested I stop by and add my mite.

    Fools Gold

    It’s a farce, of course;
    This worship of Mammon
    And the daily grind
    That numbs the senses
    And warps the mind.
    Rainbow chasing.
    Devoid of style,
    Kicking and screaming
    The Golden Mile
    Beckons insidiously.
    Pyrite glitter
    Blinding our eyes
    To the hungry child
    Beleaguered by flies.
    And we cry charity,
    Shed a false tear
    And brandish the plastic
    To save us the trouble
    Of anything drastic…
    Like being human.

    There is also an article on the judgement we automatically make when faced with the visual effects of poverty in an unequal society.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Thanks, Jamie. It really is … when we produce 1 ½ times enough food to feed everyone on the planet and there is plenty of space and global resources to house and clothe everyone, it is a parlous state of affairs that any man, woman or child should suffer the real effects of poverty.

        Liked by 1 person

    1. “The New York Post, no bastion of bleeding heart liberalism, reported on Monday that “Hundreds of full-time city workers are homeless”. These are people who clean our trash and make our city, the heart of American capitalism, safe and livable, including for those who plunder the globe from Wall Street.” —Stephen W. Thrasher, The Guardian

      A Bozdar’s poem, Keeper, is a nice companion with this article.

      Liked by 1 person


    what must it be like for you in your part of the world?

    there is only silence, i don’t know your name, i know only
    that the fire of life makes us one in this, the human journey,
    search and return, running through mud, reaching for the sun

    like entering the ritual river without a blessing or a prayer

    our eyes meet in secret, our hearts open on the fringe,
    one breath and the wind blows, one tear and seas rise,
    on the street where you live, your friends are all gone

    the houses are crushed and the doves have flown

    there is only silence, no children playing, no laughter
    here and there a light remains to speak to you of loneliness,
    my breath catches in my throat, i want to make life sane again

    – Jamie Dedes

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Haunting:
      “our eyes meet in secret, our hearts open on the fringe,
      one breath and the wind blows, one tear and seas rise,
      on the street where you live, your friends are all gone

      the houses are crushed and the doves have flown

      there is only silence, no children playing, no laughter”

      Liked by 1 person

  11. – Why Do You Judge Me? –

    I come to this school
    I’m just the same as you
    You want to learn science
    You know I want to learn too

    I live in a shelter
    I once lived out on the streets
    You laugh at my clothing, and
    The worn out shoes on my feet

    Why Do You Judge Me?
    Will you ever accept me?

    They shut down my job
    And now I can’t find another
    I’m looking for work
    Can you help me out, brother?

    You walk by with Disgust
    The expression on your face
    Do you have any Trust?
    Is there even a trace?

    Why Do You Judge Me?
    I Wish you would Help Me

    I worked hard all my life
    Got no retirement pension
    I made enough to get by
    My body writhing with tension

    My bones are all aching
    I no longer have my good health
    Some people work really hard
    Never receive any wealth

    Why Do You Judge Me?
    Doesn’t anyone Love me?

    © brian crandall

    Liked by 1 person

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