HLLN 13 January 2013: Your story Haiti, For You: Light and Libation, A Bouquet of Tears | Seismic Shifts – Haiti freestyling to murder Tarzan, Jane & their Uncle Toms

13 January 2013HLLN
Recommended HLLN Link: Foreign violence against Haiti is the norm. Haiti struggles on, paying an untenable price, lighting a path for love and justice http://bit.ly/13eKwK3
Felipe Luciano/WBAI interviews Ezili Dantò of HLLN on Haiti, three years after the earthquake. Broadcast on Jan 11, 2012 http://bit.ly/13eKwK3
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Seismic Shifts: Haiti freestyling to murder Tarzan, Jane & their Uncle Toms By Ezili Danto, February 2011
A Bouquet of Tears (Un bouquet de larmes) by Michel Sanon, January 11, 2011
“…Jete dlo, jete dlo, jete dlo. Into the Ancestors’ hands we place all our souls… Legba ouvri baryè a pou nou. Pitit Ginen, the next part is left to us. Gade byen wa wè. Nou la. Zanset yo e Timoun yo vini. Our love is stronger and survives every energy transformation. We Are The Haitians. Nou fè yon sèl kò.” http://bit.ly/hIihuB
Seismic Shifts: Haiti freestyling to murder Tarzan, Jane & their Uncle Toms By Ezili Danto, February 2011
I’ve been avoiding a performance piece about earthquakes. So many seismic shifts and fault lines these last seven years. Paradoxically, there’s nothing new not already covered in the Red Black & Moonlight (RBM) series, except the level of Official cruelty, act of barbarity and hypocrisy is more vivid and vicious, with genocidal aftershocks. I didn’t know how to began. Then, in one day, after a poetry show, I wrote this piece that will probably be developed somehow, into the next series of 90-minute shows: Seismic Shifts: Haiti Freestyling to murder Tarzan, Jane & their Uncle Toms
Part one – We are a people who have endured: STOP, no more. no more.
January 12, 2010 at 4:53 p.m, the world tilted. A tremor took hold of me that won’t stop but at pure panic. I’m that amputated limb stretching to explore an unfathomable agony with no arms.
Ayiti. Ayiti, they buy and sell you like the pieces of Louisiana Territory real estate the French didn’t own that they sold to Jefferson.
Maybe I’ll dance first? Maybe I’ll sing first. Gotta get this energy out of my body first. This screaming pain out my mind, first? From my head that can’t handle this, I’ll bring it down to my belly juices, uncoiling pure energy back up. That’s never let me down yet…
Last night I was at a poetry session to celebrate the life of Nathan P., who hosted the poetry slams at the world famous Nuyorican Poets Cafe from 2000 to 2007. Ngoma and Iyaba were there. It brought back happy memories.
I hooked up with slam poets I’d not seen since Bush regime change 2004 interrupted my flow to come head up Ezili’s HLLN giving voice to those the Bush vampires had brutally silenced.
The Haitian guy at the door said he caught my show at Yale long ago when he was starting out. “Don’t you remember,” he says. “I am Haitian-Dominican, had a big Afro back then and you suggested I go work my stuff on Wednesdays at the Nuyorican?” I’m nodding inanely. He’s running things now. This session with all the best performance poets from the Tri-State area was organize by the Haitian-Dominican who caught my show years ago when he was starting out. I feel seismic old. Looked at the stage being set up, wondering if I still had the silver bullet to freestyle the old Sanba way, take down the Vampire’s Black collaborators, still had that kryptonite for the white saviors, from the Left, from the Right, who had killed the bi-centennial and woke up Dantò?
As friends took to the stage, I freestyled in my head. Scratched notes down on a napkin not to lose the moment’s honesty cause Ginen has got to step up even if words are not big enough, tears not grief enough, got to step up even when the mind, the heart, the spirit is not big enough to absorb the shock of 300,000 of us dead in 33 seconds in the earthquake, the shock of thousands upon thousands who were maimed and paralyzed, limbs amputated without anesthetic, some un-necessarily amputated. We’re already amputees even as the shock of UN-imported cholera keeps the tremors resonating, resonating us into crazy, even as we endure the 42,000 bloodsucking-NGOs masturbating on Black pain, even as we mourn our school- bitten Haiti zombies who will never be normal. Can’t be paralyze when we’ve got to stop Haiti’s Uncle Toms, return the will of Desalin‘s people.
The glamorized tyrants, cruelly, unrelentingly, keep crumbling jagged cement blocks and twisted heavy metal onto our Haitian heads in a world overrun with the undead.
We are a people who have endured. We’ve endured since 1503. Endured 300-years of chattel slavery. 200 years of debt, dependency and containment in poverty. And now this US occupation behind a UN humanitarian front. It’s hard. It’s really hard to fight forced assimilation because that’s what they want us to do. To assimilate into their profit-over-people culture, deny ourselves, our own interests and pursue the world-destroying interests of the white power structure.
Those Haitians who refuse to do that, suffer unendurably. And we are suffering unendurably. Those who don’t dance, grin, shuffle and jive at S.O.B’s to the mentally colonized moronic Kompa beat ya’ll…with Uncle Toms like coup d’etat- Wyclef Jean, Michel “Sweet Mickey” Martelly and Richard Morse – will suffer Lavalas marginalization, unendurably. Their hate is real. Duvalier dangerous. Treachery blatant, yielding palpable coup d’etat destruction since 2004, but served with the international looter’s approval, spread on top of a shuffling song delivered on carnival nights. No need to mention clouded in sexism.
I have never, in a span of a year, seen so much calamity.
January 12, 2010 at 4:53 p.m, the world tilted. A tremor took hold of me that won’t stop but at pure panic. We lost so many people in the earthquake. I say hello and goodbye with tight hugs, like it might be the last time. Cause it’s been the last time with so many I didn’t expect to lose. Over 300,000 people sacrificed. In an apocalyptic earthquake. It’s not fathomable. Then the international looters came, took most of the charity monies good-hearted citizens from around the world think they gave to Haitians, these monies never went to the Haitian poor. Then after that came the rains.
Bodily tremors, soul tremors: shivering wounded and traumatized earthquake victims entombed on flooded streets together with the dead remains of family and friends still interred under the rubble, never removed.
Almost two million Blacks living horribly, quivering uncontrollably for over a year, under soggy tarps and sheets, flood
ed in mud from Hurricane Toma. Then came all the family and friends we’re losing to UN-imported cholera. Then came Obama re-started deportations back to earthquake ravaged, cholera-ravaged, coup d’etat ravaged, NGO and Duvalierist-ravaged Haiti. And when Haiti’s poor said enough, the Clintons, wife and husband, both said: “No, you’ve got to go to elections!”
The world saw the Nov. 28, 2010 election travesty, stuffed ballots, destroyed ballots, strewed all over the streets, children playing hopscotch over them with earthquake dead voting while the living banned from voting
And when we said STOP, no more, no more, then came the return of the bloody dictator Baby Doc Duvalier escorted by UN– troops from the airport to a cushy Haiti hotel, safely delivered on our heads from 25-years exile in France to boost up Haiti’s unendurable suffering. Obama Administration legitimizing the old Duvalierists that the Lavalas movement had sacrificed so many innocent lives to annihilate. Duvalierists, the overseers for empire in Haiti, these three piece suited local looters-Tonton Macoutes – the career Haiti technocrats working for the international looters, run things now – lending a Black face to Haiti’s exploitation.
Bloody Duvalier’s Louis-Jodel Chamblain/Prosper Avril death squads roam free in UN-occupied Haiti. Roam free in the Republic of NGOs further weakening the Haitian state, NGO executives accountable to no Haitian voter. Disaster capitalism and the shock doctrine still crumbling on our heads with Duvalier dictatorship victims assaulted, insulted, yet again. The living wounded further, disenfranchised, shocked, shocked, shocked, psychically terrorized, forced to starkly absorb justice denied. Hammered down. Shocked, shocked again and again. Nailed and contained-in-poverty’s coffin: debt, dependency and foreign domination, again and again.
People don’t seem to understand Haiti needs justice not charity. That it’s not foreign aid that helps Haiti. Foreign aid is about Washington laundering US-tax payers’ monies back to Washington insiders, moving monies from its right hand to its left hand.
People don’t seem to understand that less than 1 cent, less than 1 cent, of every dollar donated to Haiti goes to the Haitian government.
But the international looters – the U.S. stakeholders, the French, the Canadians and their embedded media – are always droning on and on, saying the reason why Haiti’s so poor and unable to rule itself or to help the earthquake victims is because of the corruption of Haitians. But that corruption is less than 1 cent, the rest of the $0.99 cent per dollar goes to the international looters and their Haiti Oligarchy-local looters who apply donor monies for foreign administrative fees, foreign salaries, shipping fees, the rest earning interests in foreign banks for the poverty pimps’ charity executives or it’s put in their pockets while they gleefully masturbate on our Black pain. Gleefully masturbate, masturbate, masturbate…on our Black pain.
People don’t seem to understand that it’s Haitians in the Diaspora whose monies actually holds up Haiti, not foreign aid or any USAID, Sean Penn, Paul Farmer or fake Jake Sully‘s donor donation dollars.
I’m broken like the cracked ground that swallowed over 300,000 down. But I can’t stop because they won’t stop.
I came to win, was raised to win. This is how I breathe. My redemption song… All I’ll ever have is this redemption song. This libation to the Ancestors.
Kote moun yo ye?
A Bouquet of Tears
(Un bouquet de larmes)
Michel Sanon, January 11, 2011
Two hundred thousand stars
Extinct, evaporated
In a sunset
Wrapped in dust
On this galactic stage
Close to the hearts of those
Who cherish freedom
Two hundred thousand flowers
Abruptly chopped away
In the devastation
Of a garden drenched with blood
Two hundred thousand children
Of all ages and features
Snatched away woefully
From the trembling arms
Of a broken mother
Who had already shed
Almost all of her tears.
Haiti Cherie …
What does the future hold?
Blessed be those strangers
All people of good will
Who strived to lend
A helping hand
When that infamous Cross you bear
Was crushing your spine.
Then came in semidarkness
The hawks and the foxes
Vultures and hyenas
With gems of illusion
Set in blinding cynicism.
Once again
Adam’s Planet is on the verge
Of completing with no glory
Another journey around the Sun
Whose constant rays
Are a symbol of life.
Life be with you
Haiti Cherie!
Collect yourself your dignity.
In this bouquet of tears
You will receive
Two hundred thousand wishes
For better days to come.
Michel Sanon (Montreal)
Jan. 11, 2011
Un bouquet de larmes
par Michel Sanon
Deux cent mille étoiles
Eteintes, disparues
Dans un coucher de soleil
Enveloppé dans la poussière
Sur cette scène galactique
Proche du cœur des gens
Epris de liberté
Deux cent mille fleurs
Fauchées abruptement
Dans la désolation
D’un parterre arrosé de sang
Deux cent mille enfants
De tous ages et de tous traits
Arrachés funestement
Des bras tremblants
D’une mère martyrisée
Déjà à court de larmes
Haïti Chérie…
Qu’en est-il de ton lendemain?
Nous bénirons ces inconnus
Gens de bonne volonté
Qui se sont évertués
A te porter secours
Quand cette infâme croix
Te broyait l’échine.
Depuis sont venus dans la pénombre
Les faucons et les renards
Les vautours et les hyènes
Avec des joyaux d’illusion
Sertis d’un cynisme aveuglant.
Une fois déjà depuis
La planète d’Adam
Complète un trajet sans éclat
Autour de l’astre radieux
Dont les rayons imperturbables
Sont symboles de vie.
La vie soit avec toi
Haïti Chérie.
Ramasse toi-même ta dignité.
Dans ce bouquet de larmes
Tu recevras
Deux cent mille vœux
De lendemains meilleurs.
Michel Sanon (de Montréal)
January 11, 2011
Youtube: Peaceful Haitians gather for a unity walk across Haiti. Follow Kita Nago . Support local Haiti production
Support local Haiti production, Support Kita Nago unity project
Buy local Haiti production. Follow Kita Nago unity walk . Videos on sidebar
Kita Nago, jedi 10 janvye: Moun Kavayon deplase ak
Kita Nago
a 11:38 minit nan
maten http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1onhhSNzYv4
Forwarded by Ezili’s Haitian Lawyers Leadership Network

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