Raise our God consciousness
Raise our “Allah is greater than.” “Allah is more important than.” “Allah is more significant.”
Raise our minds
Raise our confidence
Raise our love for the oppressed
Raise our voices
Raise our hands
Raise our prayers
Raise our grassroots efforts…talking to ordinary people
Raise our signs
Raise our slogans
Raise our bravery
Raise our solidarity
Raise our red, black, white, and green
Raise our love and our cries for our human brothers and sisters
Raise our commitment to the martyrs
Raise our commitment to the grieving families
Raise the greed out of them
Raise the racist out of them
Raise the arrogance out of them
Raise the Netanyahu caricature devil looking ears out of them
Raise the butchers out of them
Raise the terrorists out of them
Raise the grotesque torturers out of them
Raise the chumps out of them
Raise the monsters out of them
Raise the two-facedness out of them
Raise the facade out of them
Raise the raids out of them
Raise the bomb strikes out of them
Raise the nuclear weapons out of them
Raise the baby, children, women, and men murderers out of them
Raise the assassinators of grandmothers, grandfathers, mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, wives, husbands, and more out of them
RAISE THE VICTIMIZED, TYRANNIZED, HEGEMONIZED, BROWBEATEN, DOWNTRODDEN, MASSACRED, WE WILL NOT GIVE UP, PALESTINIANS’ FREEDOM OUT OF THEM

by: Najwa Kareem

Poem 3
How to raise kids

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

I got into to teaching to make a difference,
To add some joy to a kids existence,
I knew, so well, the hurt and pain
That kids in secondary school sustain
The tears and the fears and the dread and the...
"Ahahahaha! Look at his Nicks!! He thinks he's got Nikes but he's wearing Nicks!"
And how it switches you off and makes you not care,
Because you just don't want to go back there.
So, you wander into town to HMV
Til your parents feel let down when you only got an E
Until you failed Art and Graphics and Literacy
But at least you got an A in history...
Because academic subjects are "more important"

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

So I left 6th form and I needed change
And wanted to go to somewhere strange
(And new)
Somewhere away from all the drama
At 19 I went by myself to Ghana
"God bless our homeland Ghana
And make our nation great and strong,
Vow to defend forever
The cause of Freedom and of Right"
And I taught
Maths and English
With no books
And no training
And no observing
And I was ******* at it... Really bad
But somehow, i felt the change
Just because I cared and they cared

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

A few years later I started teachin.
GTP, hands on, straight in.
My teaching mentor was called Mr Hickey,
He smoked a pipe and drank down whiskey
(In school)
My first proper job was Bradford inner city
It was a bit rough and the buildin was ******
There we had a guy who was a lazy old ****
And he had kids tracing instead of learning Art
When I first got there I was overwrought
These weren't like the training lessons that I taught
These kids had opinions. They needed to engage...
To be taught in a way that suited kids of their age
I nearly gave up, because I felt so scared
But at the end of the day, I knew that I still cared

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

In my 3rd year I had this year 11 class
They wanted a good lesson and they wanted to pass
But they needed convincing and I nearly cried
So I tried and I tried and I tried and I tried
To listen
And react
To change
And Adapt
And those kids made me better
And for 3 years I got better
Our grades were sky high
The kids wanted to try
They wanted learn, they wanted to know "why"
But I got to the top and I needed to fly
Because I needed somewhere that I could ask the "why"

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

You have those moments sometimes in life, where you know that a decision is important, but you don't know why and you don't know which way is the right way to go with it. This was that point for me. Sat in the interview, saying I wanted to pull out but letting them convince me to stay. That was the point, I think where everything changed.

2010. New job. New government.

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

I was head of Art and I got noticed
Within a year I got promoted
Faculty leader of creative skills
This is the part where it really kills
What do you do when you just aren't wanted
When people are angry that you're there
When all of your decisions seem to be haunted
By the ghost of a culture where they just don't care
Where nastiness and gossip always bite
Resting in the coffin of a lost tradition
Kids so bored they're turning white
Beaten down to bored submission
And everyone seems to have given up the fight
But they're still convinced that their way's "right"

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

After so much pain, we were getting through it
We realised there was much more to it
No more easy working out of booklets
(The teaching equivalent of rhyming couplets)
But every time you made a shift
The goal posts seemed to start to drift
And this all caused a further rift
The final one I couldn't lift

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

Gossip and lies caused by others stress
Creates a catastrophic mess
Turns people's lives upside down
Gives off the sense that they're a clown
They're trying. They're just really down
Simply trying not to drown
Marriage ending
Friends unfriending
Children's lives are slowly bending
House and finance are up-ending
Mediation sessions need attending
Everything seems to need mending
And the pain seems to be never-ending

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

Professional life vs Personal life
Professional strife = Personal strife
Personal wife goes through professional strife
Personal strife =

"I understand what you're going through, but we need to think about the learners."

Stress in teaching is the expectation
Work life balance has no correlation
The pressures of a confused nation
Makes teachers into the poor relation

Goodbye btec, goodbye vocation
Hello Gove and his minds creation
Goodbye Gove and hello Morgan
Hiding behind a gritty slogan
Creating the pressure of pointless change
For teachers to correct and rearrange

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

But here's the thing. It's not their fault.
Sure, they've no idea MPs
They've less common sense than a piece of cheese
But all MPs really do is set
Some criteria that need to be met
A league table
Academies
Appraisal
Curriculums
It's nothing new. They've always done it
But it's given to schools to interpret
We don't lose money, we just get judged
We need conviction that can't be budged
We need to get a message out
To every parent, round about
And what this message needs to say
Is "we aren't doing extra maths today,
We're going to go outside and play
Because whatever MPs say
We'll do what's right for the kids
And here's why it's right you know
Cause we want to see your children grow
We're not just for levels, grades, progress
We're also here to relieve stress
We're also here to make your child feel
That happiness is something real
That in spite of all the crap you see
You can become head of art when you failed gcse."
Learn People skills
Determination
Creativity
Imagination
Honesty
Integrity
Sen­sitivity
And empathy
It's not an easy sell I know
You can't measure how people grow
You can't report or give a grade
But they're qualities that are heaven made
And maybe think the same for teachers
We're all very caring creatures
We care about how kids are raised
We don't need to be constantly appraised
Default 100%?!?
Like energy is heaven sent
Like when your kids are down with flu
You just man up, there's work to do
When you've got a quality person who just needs backing
Why give pressure and then threaten with sacking?

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

School - this week mark all your books
I need them up to date so I can look

Teacher - I've got to take my daughter swimming
I've got to see my son try winning

School - read through your teaching standards mate
And leave your children at the gate

End of the week the books are done
But head and deputies are overrun
"We'll have to put these books aside
To push our children down the slide"

And good for them. They work really hard. It's not a job to take lightly and they deserve to be there. But they don't have the time to step back and think "big picture"

Let's flip it round and just imagine

Teacher - I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm ill
School - you can't be ill the learners will fail
Teacher - I need some patience, I need some time
School - the kids need work which is sublime
Don't they deserve that? Don't you think?
Do you really want your learners to sink?

And there it is. The teacher guilt.
Because that's the way that we've been built
We care too much
We try too much
We give too much
We work too much
And we lose too much
We get ideas above our station
About how this job is a vocation
When we stop and look around
The evidence just can't be found
Someone tells me what to teach
Someone tells me how to teach it
Someone tells me how to plan
Someone tells me when to plan it
Someone tells me how to mark
Someone tells me when to mark it
We work to targets, get appraised
Residuals to get profiles raised
It's industry. I rest my case.

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

Or, put it another way.

I just think that teaching has lost all its common sense. And it's kindness. It behaves like an industry which is about getting results and meeting targets. There's nothing that measures people's happiness or how deeply moved or affected someone is by what they've learned. It just checks that they learned it. And we are given this guilt trip. That it's about children and that we are affecting their lives if we don't meet targets. We give up more and more because "teaching is a vocation"  "it's about kids", and yet schools use cover supervisors, cut subjects, limit choices etc to save money and get results. So the profession behaves like an industry but the teachers have to give their lives to it like its a vocation. It's not a vocation. At all. It's a job.

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

Raise my hand in class,
Raise my hands at football game,
Raise my hand for hellos
Raise my hands to show my surrender,
Raise my hands for mercy
Raise my hands for prayer,
Raised hands at my funeral,
Raised hands on street corners,
Raised hands across the ocean,
Raise these hands to send a message,
Raise these hands for justice,
Raise these hands for peace,
Raise these hands for the next of kin,
So they may raise their hands to dance,
So they may they raise their hands to laugh
So they may raise their hands to remember,
That these hands were raised to rise.

AMBIGRAM VIII

Recto:

Yesterday was Christmas, and the days
already start to grow a little longer.
In our hand, the new year‘s fledgling, stronger
though more fragile too in many ways

than this bedraggled, aging crow, its song a
a sad, repeated phrase among the blackened
trees along a river. So sit back and
raise your glasses to it, do the conga,

auld lang syne, then hit the sack. And black and
white explode, a throng of rainbows—gaze!
You‘ll see it, wakened in  the morning haze,
ascending as the tethering s?tring is slackened:

Verso:

Yesterday was Christmas, and
the days already start to grow
a little longer. In our hand,

the new year‘s fledgling, stronger  though
more fragile too in many ways
than this bedraggled, aging crow,

its song a sad, repeated phrase
among the blackened trees along a
river. So sit back and raise

your glasses to it, do the conga,
auld lang syne, then hit the sack. And
And black and white explode, a throng of

rainbows—gaze! You‘ll see it, wakened
in the morning haze, ascend-
ing as the tethering string is slackened.






















































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­
































































­
































































­
































































­























































AMBIGRAM
­
Recto:

Yesterday was Christmas, and the days
already start to grow a little longer.
In our hand, the new year‘s fledgling, stronger
though more fragile too in many ways

than this bedraggled, aging crow, its song a
a sad, repeated phrase among the blackened
trees along a river. So sit back and
raise your glasses to it, do the conga,

auld lang syne, then hit the sack. And black and
white explode, a throng of rainbows—gaze!
You‘ll see it, wakened in  the morning haze,
ascending as the tethering s?tring is slackened:

Verso:

Yesterday was Christmas, and
the days already start to grow
a little longer. In our hand,

the new year‘s fledgling, stronger  though
more fragile too in many ways
than this bedraggled, aging crow,

its song a sad, repeated phrase
among the blackened trees along a
river. So sit back and raise

your glasses to it, do the conga,
auld lang syne, then hit the sack. And
And black and white explode, a throng of

rainbows—gaze! You‘ll see it, wakened
in the morning haze, ascend-
ing as the tethering string is slackened.






















































­
































































­
































































­
































































­































































A­MBIGRAM

Recto:

Yesterday was Christmas, and the days
already start to grow a little longer.
In our hand, the new year‘s fledgling, stronger
though more fragile too in many ways

than this bedraggled, aging crow, its song a
a sad, repeated phrase among the blackened
trees along a river. So sit back and
raise your glasses to it, do the conga,

auld lang syne, then hit the sack. And black and
white explode, a throng of rainbows—gaze!
You‘ll see it, wakened in  the morning haze,
ascending as the tethering s?tring is slackened:

Verso:

Yesterday was Christmas, and
the days already start to grow
a little longer. In our hand,

the new year‘s fledgling, stronger  though
more fragile too in many ways
than this bedraggled, aging crow,

its song a sad, repeated phrase
among the blackened trees along a
river. So sit back and raise

your glasses to it, do the conga,
auld lang syne, then hit the sack. And
And black and white explode, a throng of

rainbows—gaze! You‘ll see it, wakened
in the morning haze, ascend-
ing as the tethering string is slackened.






















































­
































































­
































































­
































































­
































































­
































































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­



























































AMBIG­RAM

Recto:

Yesterday was Christmas, and the days
already start to grow a little longer.
In our hand, the new year‘s fledgling, stronger
though more fragile too in many ways

than this bedraggled, aging crow, its song a
a sad, repeated phrase among the blackened
trees along a river. So sit back and
raise your glasses to it, do the conga,

auld lang syne, then hit the sack. And black and
white explode, a throng of rainbows—gaze!
You‘ll see it, wakened in  the morning haze,
ascending as the tethering s?tring is slackened:

Verso:

Yesterday was Christmas, and
the days already start to grow
a little longer. In our hand,

the new year‘s fledgling, stronger  though
more fragile too in many ways
than this bedraggled, aging crow,

its song a sad, repeated phrase
among the blackened trees along a
river. So sit back and raise

your glasses to it, do the conga,
auld lang syne, then hit the sack. And
And black and white explode, a throng of

rainbows—gaze! You‘ll see it, wakened
in the morning haze, ascend-
ing as the tethering string is slackened.

So grace me through
my colors
Let's Start

God Grace me

Someone was smart
To raise me
But the blaze
came and love
pursued me
He pushed me
Into his hot blaze

His ***** of fire
A big part of the script
Another lift in his
desire
But my lips
Got raised up
But couldn't.sustain
the fire
The glossy shimmer
Sky hug
He Aint nothing but
a hound dog goodbye
Raised me Orange
Red Robin fly

But how you
face me
Never to
disgrace me

You pick me up with
all my goods
Odds with the bad
Honorable Gods
And so many facets
of my moods
Watch out!!
Starburst
Or a war curse

We  evaporate
In fragments

Orange segments
Sliced and eaten

Love forbidden fruit
One hidden

Embrace the warm solitude

all over your face,
Someone is rude
Fresh Orange
told you
It's Fate

That brought us
together
Orange juicier sun

So many love forms
Whose terms? Just run
This world full of
germs
But to juice things up


How the colors of your
eyes came to an epical stop

But nursed me
orange juice hip hop

He dazed into me
After-life
They named her
Saucy before-life
See ablaze
orange zest
See me and fly me
At my very best

My breast was
so nicely raised


Lips so fruitful
he cannot
resist you know
the rest??

In the mix of orange
things
Pink rings
Butterfly eyes
winged

Was set so privately-----*

The red tail hawk
Was the talk of the 
 Orangey words flowy
Popsicle poppy eye town
No time to refresh
my colors

Free bird orange up
The ramp no lady
and tramps
Just (Gypsies Orange Vamp)
The rocks fall to thump
Trump orange fixtures
Towers Forestal Gump

The soothing smile of lights
He came to you pop features
All over my place
So cultural to the race
The colors of
Orange mellow
oh! no
Here comes yellow----

Creaming into his
creamsicle
Gelato
popsicle
My feeling divided
like politics

Been sliced by
the orange Super bowl
Erotics
Sunny California Kist
Rodeo drive what a
list
Satanic red
Orange Christ
But that orange
She Shh_ sheets
Had the most vibrant
juicy beats
Tomato vines Rome
Lend me your orange
No ears no other
color of tears

Villians of vineyards
Orange bowl of fruit
No Junkyards
The owl started to hoot
Towards the bad apple

My heart was galloping
Shrimp and scallop
Right in my western charm
boot he takes off

Another mix of paint
Orange isn't carrots and
pumpkins
Austin Power Mini-me
Munchkins

Or goblins spooked
Mandarin Orange lovely
Divinely licked
Gingerly lovely Cayenne
Sweet Pepper he looked at her
Lucky 7 Orange ring karat

Whats up Doc_

Any cracks of his cravat
Orange Key-West lock
Doesn't turn get off
my block
I am going to
Bangkok
With Chuck

Having Orange Tang
He was holding me
777 karat ring
The  Mediterranian
party
Why so dead sea
Pink Smarty
Orange blosson tea
Orange Marquis
Louis and Diamonds
All clockwork
Orange movies

In the lounge of
Raymonds of ring
junkies
Pour OJ for me
**** a doodle doo

Flash of orange came at me
Do you want to?

The operation of heartless
surgery
The Showstopper emergency
Revived refreshing lady
of purity but no orange
The
((Orange Marquis))
Off to see the Wizardly
Orange field gorgeous
WC fields raise

Writer with the
lucky pen praise
Her editor was
the perfect color
ten

Miss coralline with
her coral rock
The mixed infusion

Next color comes up
Raise your brow reaction

Needing a follow-up

Orange rinds
Another call-up
Giddy Apps up
Orange glittering
passion fruit
paintbrush
Soap Opera beauty
and the beast
Another gulp the
pulp pretty in pink
psst_

Orange-pink tropical
girl orange whirl
The orange-red ringlets
She curled inside him
Glass raise you cup trim
In your villa stucco orange
You were breastfeeding
his orange suited juice

No time to see another
color
Orangey wiz showbiz
Arabian sky sunset
burnt orange
The caramel bump
of the camel
Her favorite one
mural

Lips of tang so foreign
She is flaming like a
flamingo bed

Get his color out of
Cotton picking head
Your shampoo
The
"Orange Oddysey"

Hey, what do you say?

Just open your
eyeshadows
He shadows her in

Or a site for sore eyes got
puffy war of
orange bubbles begin

Feather me
orange wings
The fringe orange
suede
flops
you happy

The A+ diet of fruit
he was the
hotshot
Glass
You're at the
bake me
What do you know
he passed

The spa refreshing
orange peel
mystique

Long lace-lit
Unique
He was coming on too
bossy orangey burst
cheeks were falling
Rise up not down
Orange Julius raise
his price
Fed Ex orange truck
got closer to
Her alluring butterfly
Orange U glad
To catch her
To court her
Fast Orange perfume
She Sha shala
femme
Orange flames came
from his cleft

Still no time for your
spouse whoa he left_

Now please let me know

what I left out
Orange you glad

this is the only color love
him madly

Raise your voice,raise your hands.
Raise  your voice against un justice and wrong full deeds.
Raise your hands against corruptions and ******.
Raise your voice to keep yourself alive in the world
Raise your hands to keep away from crime and ******.
Raise your voice to keep everyone calm and peace full.
Raise your hands to keep your nation clean from everything.

Would you raise a little hell for me
While I'm sleeping in my grave?
Would you say a little prayer for me
While I'm dancing in the flames?

After all I did and died for you,
After all the **** you put me through,
Best believe me when I say it's true
I'm gon' raise a little hell for you...
Gon' raise a little hell!

I'm back again to walk these streets!
I want war, I don't want peace!
A pound of flesh if it's diseased,
That's all I really need!

Gon' claw my way up through the dirt
Gon' salt the wound until it hurts!
The devil's come (to) collect his due!
When I raise a little hell for you!

I hope the flames are burning bright
When you sink into the earth tonight
To dance in their internal light
Cause-

After all I did and died for you,
After all the **** you put me through,
Best believe me when I say it's true
I'm gon' raise a little hell for you!
Gonna raise a little hell...
Gonna raise a little hell...

Forged by the blood upon the ramming ships bow
Gun smoke rising from fired cannons, port side
Missiles launch, starboard side, skyward bound
Raise, 'O Raise the First Naval Jack
Quickly up the flag pole aft!

Lights shone from signalmen fore
Bring flashes from rifles by ******, port side
Naval fly-boys on the starboard side, **, coming about
Raise, 'O Raise the First Naval Jack
Quickly up the flag pole aft!

Cut 'em off and Capture the Savage
So don the iron, Monitor, and defend the 'Sota
For the Midway is close, the codes broken, the ships sinking slow
So, Raise, 'O Raise the First Naval Jack
Quickly up the flag pole aft!

They’d never got on before the dance
And they certainly wouldn’t now,
For Geoffrey Raise had showered praise
On the Fireman’s girl, somehow,
And she, Charlene, was impressed, it seems
With the Engine driver’s call,
And changed her date, though it seemed too late
To the Fireman, at the ball.

They stood on the plate of the Duke of Kent
With the fireman raising steam,
Shovelling coal to the firebox
In a movement swift and clean,
He scattered the coals on the glowing bed
With a practised twist of his wrist,
While the driver kept his eyes ahead
As the steam built up, and hissed.

‘Why did you jump on Charlene then,’
Said the Fireman, Henry Rice,
During a break, his back was bent
With sweat, but his eyes were ice,
‘I don’t have to answer to you,’ said Raise,
‘Charlene was anyone’s girl,
I liked the way that she held herself
And she sure knew how to twirl.’

The train pulled out of the station with
A puff and a cloud of steam,
And clattered along the track from Klifft
On its way to Essingdean,
Pulling a dozen coaches and
A Guards van at the rear,
And a hundred and twenty passengers
At the high time of the year.

‘What would you say if I did to you
What you did to me, back then,
Cutting in on your date that night,
What was her name, that Gwen?’
‘She wouldn’t have looked at you,’ said Raise,
As he pulled the chord to toot,
‘And as far as your feelings go, old chum,
I really don’t give a hoot.’

The train was rocketing down the line,
And flew past the water tower,
While Raise had opened the ***** right up
To give the Express more power,
The gauge was inching at sixty five
As they flew past Barton Dale,
While Rice was shovelling coal once more
Though his face was pinched and pale.

He took Raise down with the shovel as
They raced through Weston Town,
Who lay, half stunned on the footplate
Hanging off and looking down.
He kicked on out at the Fireman with
His size twelve steel-capped boots,
Who reached and hung on the chord that gave
The Duke of Kent its *****.

The train was racking up seventy five
As they kicked and punched and swore
Totally out of control it passed
The Halt at Elsinore,
They narrowly missed a rumbling freight
As the points took it aside,
While Raise had yelled, ‘You can go to hell,
But control your wounded pride.’

The Fireman opened the firebox
Spraying hot coals on the plate,
‘Now dance again as you danced Charlene,
If you think that you’re oh so great.’
‘Just let me get to my feet,’ said Raise
‘Or you’re going to wreck the train.’
‘It might be time,’ said the Fireman,
‘For your life to fill with pain.’

They hit the buffers at Essingdean
And the engine left the track,
It leapt up over the platform as
The roof ripped off the stack.
Raise was told when they went to court
That he’d never be re-hired,
And Rice, for want of the girl he sought,
The Fireman was fired.

David Lewis Paget

Raise me up, atop the river of oceans,
And baptize me under the wings of the stars;
Soak me in the still waters
Of boundless transience,
And bathe me in the blood of the waning moon.

Raise me up, above this bed of earth
And make me drift above the pillow-like clouds
That trail the skies of black and blue,
And wait for them to fade,
Just as the darkness will,
When the day runs its course.

Raise me up, above the chains of time,
And drop me on the face of everlasting feeling,
Of infinite tides that crash upon the shores
Of fading memories, of translucent pasts,
And let me drink the water filled with
Certainty and guileless candor, pray
That I'll remain here forever,
That the beach I lay atop won't
Clump and fall and sway and tumble
Into the empty pits of
Forgotten promises and unsaid words.

Raise me up, against my will,
Above the plains of grass and roses
Of black and red, steal me away
And tap my eyes with the lucid
Dreams of my seething impermanence,
And sting me with the daggers of
Regret and redemption, of
Begging to remain for just another moment.

Raise me up, and let me soar
Atop the summit of banished wishes,
And let me cast my body away, let it
Fumble down the rocks and pebbles and boulders
On the slopes of passing instants,
But let me, my unbreakable soul,
Stay right there, frozen in the midst of
Feeble remembrances and sprinting clocks,
And let me know, just this once,
That I haven't lived until I've been lost.