Category Archives: Rock on-Peace Out

Afghan Women’s Writing Project | The Breeze

I love the breeze that blows through my windows

Rousing me

Playing through my hair

It makes dry trees dance

Swirls wild dust

Gives spirit and life to flowers like me

If only I was that breeze

Carrying that tropical dew

I would fly everywhere

Every place, or even a few

But I am a prisoner in this land

Always tortured

I can’t be that softness

That free breeze

Escaping out my windows

I can’t bear it

This jail

I want to be as a sail

I want to fly as a pigeon

Not a sparrow in a cage

If only I was that breeze

Carrying that tropical dew

I would leave this painful life

This hell where I’ve been thrown

By Beheshta

via Afghan Women’s Writing Project | The Breeze.

Afghan Women’s Writing Project | A Buried Story

Buried under my rough jacket and my scarlet shirt,

Secured deep under flesh and bones,

My hidden heart is broken.

My hidden eyes, dark under my burqa, are crying.

The mouth that I hold shut is shouting.

The feet I walk on shiver and cringe.

My story is an endless deep pain without healing.

I try to speak…

The clouds begin to rain.

The mountains turn to ash.

My still self is hopeless.

Do you dare listen to this story?

It’s not a love story, but there is a girl who wants to be a lover.

It’s not a movie or a drama, but only the truth, my daily nightmare.

It’s not about grand presidential politics, but the poor, the insignificant,

The politics of the daily, of families, of women and children,

And yes, of men.

Let’s not forget the men.

It’s about a girl surviving, about me, but I am so many girls,

So many, just surviving.

No school, no right, no peace.

No guidance, no respect.

Just a puppet played and covered with black cloth.

Let me live!

Let me play!

Take my hand…

Take me to school, let me study.

Don’t you have a heart? Are you an animal?

You’re my father, please, don’t kill me.

Please, brother, don’t sell me.

But who will listen?

I am lost, I am hopeless…

I am this story.

My life story.

Can you hear me?

I’m still hoping.

By Aysha

via Afghan Women’s Writing Project | A Buried Story.

Femix Fest 4.0 – YouTube Serbia Feminism

Femix Fest 4.0 održan je 13-14.12.2013. u beogradskom BIGZ-u.

Sa linka http://www.femix.info/femixfm/femikseta/ je moguć besplatan download Femiksete, jedine godišnje domaće kompilacije muzičarki i bendova sa ženskim autorstvom, čije četvrto izdanje je tom prilikom promovisano.

via Femix Fest 4.0 – YouTube.

Calling on Angels

♪Calling All Angels
Santa Maria, Santa Teresa, Santa Anna, Santa Susannah
Santa Cecilia, Santa Copelia, Santa Domenica, Mary Angelica
Frater Achad, Frater Pietro, Julianus, Petronilla
Santa, Santos, Miroslaw, Vladimir
and all the rest
♪Oh, a man is placed upon the steps, a baby cries
and high above you can hear
the church bells start to ring
and as the heaviness, oh the heaviness, the body settles in
somewhere you can hear a mother sing
♪then it’s one foot then the other
as you step out onto the road of hope
step out on the road
how much weight? how much?
then it’s how long? and how far?
and how many times oh, before it’s too late?
♪calling all angels calling all angels
walk me through this one
don’t leave me alone
calling all angels calling all angels
we’re tryin’ and we’re hopin’
but we’re not sure how…
♪ah, and every day you gaze upon the sunset
with such love and intensity
why it’s ah, it’s almost as
if you could only crack the code
then you’d finally understand what this all means
♪ah, but if you could…do you think you would
trade in all, all the pain and suffering?
ah, but then you’d miss
the beauty of the light upon this earth
and the sweetness of the leaving
♪calling all angels calling all angels
walk me through this one
don’t leave me alone
calling all angels calling all angels
we’re tryin’ and we’re hopin’
but we’re not sure…
♪calling all angels calling all angels
walk me through this one
don’t leave me alone
calling all angels calling all angels
we’re tryin’ we’re hopin’
we’re hurtin’ we’re lovin’
we’re cryin’ we’re callin’
cause we’re not sure how this goes