.
FIRST PLACE
.
Captured Souls
by Twila Brase
Seized by force, a mighty throng
The captured souls of the Falun Gong.
Intact for now, breathing still
Only time is left to kill.
Buyers vie for body parts
Kidneys, livers, eyes, and hearts.
From chopping block to bloody crate
Execution with no escape.
Stomping boots, clanging chains
White coats, scalpel, searing pain.
A reservoir for body parts
Breathes his last as life departs.
Snatched from home, not for a crime
Selected for harvest, dead by design.
Exploitative, horrific, unmitigated wrong
Who’ll stop the killing of the Falun Gong?
.
.
SECOND PLACE
.
July 20, 1999
—the start of the CCP’s persecution of Falun Gong
by Maura H. Harrison
It was a summer day, quite beautiful.
One hundred million minds were exercising
With the Divine—feeling the gentle pull
Of truthfulness; the tender touch; the rising,
Patient, and cosmic circulation of
Serenity—and building constellation,
A picture of humanity, of love,
Of living souls, of mercy’s elevation.
It was July, a summer day turned green
with jealous rage and foul with furious fear.
Evil turned on its torturing machine,
And started persecuting. Harsh, severe,
And diabolic, anguish was applied
By Party members bent on burying all
The stars. They’re at it still, making a wide
Hole in the sky, a dark and heavy pall.
.
.
THIRD PLACE
.
The Fate of Falun Gong
by Kristy Angley Marett
I sit beside my open door,
_The sunlight streaming in,
A gentle breeze upon my face,
_The whisper of a friend.
From my warm and cozy room,
_I gaze upon the sphere.
I say a little silent prayer,
_So grateful to be here.
I wonder how this world of ours
_Could go so very wrong.
Tell me why our friends must die
_To practice Falun Gong.
I wonder how did this arrive,
_And how did we get here,
Where mankind could create a world
_Of torture, death, and fear.
When tyrants murder citizens
_For practicing their faith,
The world becomes a dark abyss
_Of wickedness and hate.
We who fight for freedom,
_We must not be too late!
When tyranny descends our doors,
_What will we await?
We sit here in our cozy rooms,
_While half a world away,
Innocents will fall and die
_For love and peace and grace.
.
.
FOURTH PLACE
.
The Gentler Art
by Maureen Browne
Something of the old way reborn:
the gentler art of higher thought
sweeping through China in sun-coloured
clothes like waves of golden corn—
thousands of citizens up with the dawn,
in fields, parks, factory yards,
to follow the way of Falun Gong,
peasants, scholars, soldiers, drawn
to this psychology without borders:
gentle movement, meditation, cultivating
compassion, honesty, patience,
communist cadres hit back with the orders:
Falun Gong disciples to be taken,
shackled, sleep-starved, beaten,
tied down in stress positions
for hours, until their faith is shaken,
until they admit they were wrong,
sign the paper saying they are willing
to transform, to renounce
the pernicious cult of Falun Gong,
or be tortured until they don’t survive
the electric shocks, the drug cocktails,
the smashed spines, the organs cut
out of them when they’re still alive.
A peaceful people, a sunrise
brightening our path, tortured to death.
The flags of victory fly, the songs
of celebration drowning out their cries,
and will I, will you, just go ahead
ignoring inhumanity again.
We saw the hell of persecution,
will we forget the Never Again we said.
.
.
HONORABLE MENTIONS
.
Read the poems below on the Friends
of Falun Gong website here.
“Stand Not in Silence” by Pascal Nnamani
“The Rise of Zhen” by Rachael Omage
“The Falun Gong” by Jenna Tedesco
“Falun Gong Forever Free” by Thor Kangas
“Yearning for Liberty” by Logan Blakeslee
“They Rise” by Perseas Vanebo
.
.
A splendid collection of poems. I especially enjoyed a lovely contrast between the excellent first place poem by Twila Brase and the excellent second place poem by Maura H. Harrison.