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Keep an eye on Life and Realilty


· Stjepan Varesevac Cobets’s profile,


Poem from my new poetry book,


Sometimes I forget,
how beautiful it is when the sun rises behind the mountain peaks,
how wonderful to listen to the wind in the woods,
how soothing it is to listen to the waves by the sea,
how pleasant it is to listen to the birds singing,
but then I run away from the city,
of concrete and metal,
because nature is always waiting for me to come back.

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Published on July 25, 2020 00:07 • Tags: nature, poem, poetry

July 31, 2020, 22:19


I was in the garden tonight
Like every night
We are having some doggy-days
Right now in the mountains
The squashes of all sorts were really looking sad
Leaves down, limp, suffering
The beans looked as if they were already cooked
The cucumber plant was moaning like a ghost
Maize was fine and dominated the situation
Blackberries were ripening nicely
But flowers were all mourning in the heat

And they all said
“Please, a few drops, Mister Waterer?”
And I gave them the few drops they needed to revive
To confront the night
Prepare for the next day
Hope for some storm, maybe
Ocas, Yakons, Sweet Potatoes,
A full array of potatoes,
Maize, pumpkins, Peppers,
Chili and bell, consorting in joy,
Tomatoes, and so many others
All From Mexico, Peru, Amazonia,
Only tobacco did not make the trip

They call it the Columbian Exchange

Sure, Charles C. Mann,
As if Slavery had been invented
For and in America and did not exist
In the Indian Ocean,
In all the Persian harems,
In all the Indian Palaces
So many centuries before Colombus
So many centuries before Mahomet
Even before the Roman Empire

And Admiral Zheng He was a slave

A castrated Muslim slave

No Columbian Exchange
Just a repeat of human history
Since when agriculture was invented
Just after the Peak of the latest Ice Age
How could You, Mann, forget that?

The first son of Abraham, Ishmail,
Was born from the slave woman of his wife
How many centuries before Jesus?

That’s what the gardens told me this afternoon
That’s why I watered them nicely
Not too much, just enough to go through the night
And sing tomorrow in the sunshine
Before drooping their leaves and waiting for
The Waterer-in-Chief and his jerrycans

Never forget, urban gardener,
We started being Human when we started
Taking care of the natural garden around us
In Black Africa first, then in Northern Africa,
Then in Asia, then in the Middle East and Europe,
Then in Europe and Asia again

And from there
To both North and South Americas.

The Garden of Eden was in Mesoamerica

And Abraham was ready to obey,
To sacrifice his son Isaac and to burn his body.
True enough he had sent the slave
And their first son Ishmail into the desert
With nothing to eat, nothing to drink,
To die like a slave has to die
And her son along with her
Like a slave his birth from her made him.

Speak to your garden plants
They have plenty of stories to tell you
They remember our history
Better than our history teachers.


It “all” started with Christopher Columbus? You’re kidding!

Think of the slaves of Alexander!

Admiral Zheng He was a Chinese Slave and he died in 1433

Written by

Dr Jacques COULARDEAU, PhD in Germanic Linguistics (University Lille III) and ESP Teaching (University Bordeaux II) has been teaching all types of ESP

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