A Story to Tell (for Stewart)

I tried to hide the pain

within me

at times He left me...

Twice...

Thrice...

Leaving sweet tender 

crystal clear tears

falling down my eyes

twice...

thrice...

I lived in dreams

had tried

and never stop hoping

that one day

He will smile at me

while I am saying to him...

"I am no longer chasing storms

but boundless reverence

because you are now with me"

In my dreams

I am the passionate writer

who struggles to bind words

and phrases of love

to lay him down...

down in such wonderment...

I became a tough wanderer

with poetry by my side...

I lived in our special place

a place without time and infinite space...

Only my love and his love exist...

Forgetting the pact I made with the world

I produced magic....

mixed ink and blood from my bruised heart,

I created art

only for him...

After many times

of counting the rainy nights

Finally...

The cute,little moonbeams

peeped through the window...

It was very quiet last night

except the sweet breath

that warmth my face...

He smiled

when I placed my lips next to his ears

and whispered...

"I am no longer chasing storms

but boundless reverence

for you are now with me

as my husband..."

he smiled and kissed me goodnight.

SEE POEM

WUNRN

http://www.wunrn.com

 

Tragic Global Reality - Affects Girls & Women Worldwide

See 3 parts of this WUNRN release on Sale of Organs.

 

KIDNAPPING, ABDUCTING, MURDER OF CHILDREN

FOR SALE OF CHILDREN'S ORGANS - GIRLS

___________________________________________________________________

 

Direct Link to Report to the United Nations 2007 of Former UN Special Rapporteur on the Sale of Children, Child Prostitution and Child Pornography:

 

ABDUCTED & MISSING CHILDREN. SALE OF CHILDREN'S ORGANS

 

http://daccess-dds-ny.un.org/doc/UNDOC/GEN/G06/155/94/PDF/G0615594.pdf?OpenElement

 

Mandate of Current UN Special Rapporteur on Sale of Children +

http://www2.ohchr.org/english/issues/children/rapporteur/index.htm

____________________________________________________________________

 

UN.GIFT - Global Initiative to Fight Human Trafficking

http://www.ungift.org/knowledgehub/en/about/trafficking-for-organ-trade.html

 

TRAFFICKING FOR HUMAN BODY ORGANS - GIRLS & WOMEN

 

While it is commonly believed that trafficking only takes places for commercial sexual exploitation or for forced labour, trafficking in fact takes many forms such as trafficking for forced marriage and trafficking for organ trade among others. 

Trafficking in organs is a crime that occurs in three broad categories. Firstly, there are cases where traffickers force or deceive the victims into giving up an organ. Secondly, there are cases where victims formally or informally agree to sell an organ and are cheated because they are not paid for the organ or are paid less than the promised price. Thirdly, vulnerable persons are treated for an ailment, which may or may not exist and thereupon organs are removed without the victim's knowledge. The vulnerable categories of persons include migrants, especially migrant workers, homeless persons, illiterate persons, etc. It is known that trafficking for organ trade could occur with persons of any age. Organs which are commonly traded are kidneys, liver and the like; any organ which can be removed and used, could be the subject of such illegal trade.

Trafficking in organ trade is an organized crime, involving a host of offenders. The recruiter who identifies the vulnerable person, the transporter, the staff of the hospital/ clinic and other medical centres, the medical professionals, the middlemen and contractors, the buyers, the banks where organs are stored are all involved in the racket. It is a fact that the entire racket is rarely exposed and therefore, the dimensions are yet to be appropriately fathomed. 

Several International standards are in place on trafficking for organ trade:

a. The UN Protocol to Prevent, Suppress and Punish Trafficking in Persons
includes "organ removal" and its subsequent sale as an end purpose of trafficking. Article 3 of the UN Trafficking Protocol that defines trafficking in persons, clearly includes trafficking for the purpose of removal of organs.
b. Optional Protocol on the sale of children, child prostitution and child pornography (2000) to the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child (1989) - This protocol states that the sale of children for the purpose of transferring their organs for profit should be a criminal offence.
c. World Health Organization (WHO)
The Guiding Principles on Human Organ Transplantation (1991) of WHO state that the commercialization of human organs is 'a violation of human rights and human dignity'.
d. An Additional Protocol to the European Convention on Human Rights and Biomedicine Concerning Transplantation of Organs and Tissues of Human Origin (2002) prohibits organ and tissue trafficking, deriving a financial gain or comparative advantage from the human body and its parts and calls on States to provide appropriate sanctions for such trafficking.
The response to trafficking in organ trade has more or less been lacklusture. Considering the serious health implications and the severe human rights violations of the vulnerable victims, it is essential that this issue gets the desired attention. This requires several steps including the following:

• Appropriate laws in sync with the UN Protocols and principles.

• Stringent law enforcement against all those involved.

• Training and orientation of the law enforcement agencies as well as the medical staff who are likely to be drawn into the commission of the offence, especially for want of the dimensions of the crime.

• Awareness generation of the vulnerable sections.

• Public awareness posters and display boards, etc. to be made mandatory at the health centres, where health care is ordinarily provided.

______________________________________________________________

 

THEY STOLE MY LITTLE GIRL ORGANS 

By Airyn Lentija Sloan

She approached me with a smile

And I, the daughter of poverty

Smiled in response to quiet

The tremble I felt inside.

Slowly I was carried away

By the Woman and Man 

From the dusty road

Where I and my sisters loved to play.

They took advantage

of my youth and innocence,

My vulnerability.

They brought me to the city

I saw the glittering lights

The buildings that give promises

That do not last

After two or three nights

They stole took my EYES,

My sight, my windows to the world. 

I cry, not just from the pain

But also because I am lost in darkness,

The blank path to find my way home

To hug my mommy.

I scream at the pain that slowly

Kills the little strength remaining in me.

When I woke up,

I thought I was in hell.

There is a scar I can feel.

Yes, I can feel it -- The hollow within me.

They left the scar on my tummy

It bleeds.....

They took my eyes AND my kidney !

They Stole My Organs © Airyn Lentija Sloan 2011

Her Street Identity

Oftentimes you will see her

humming her emptiness

to the death freezing hands of mortality,

shouting her pleas

(which often go unheard)

to the wild blue yonder...

and down,

under

rests the doom;

the home of the wretched.

On the harsh, hot street

she wanders 12-16 hours a day

while some of us neglect and shudder...

burn the bitter truth

through the idleness with mad remarks...

Some of us just walk through parks

caring less of the images in our eyes

having deaf ears for the innocence...

by her,     little babies cry,

with her,   little young ones sigh...

searching for their fate on the street

scavenging through trash

for something to eat.

Hell is real to a youth of no voice...

watching cars, selling flowers in the morn,

begging for food at noon

and when night time comes...

She find strength from inhalants;

Glue, Rugby and drugs became her Gods...

her tickets

to momentarily empower

her fantasies;

where she pretends to fly away

and yet only in her memory.

Such a frightful picture it is

for a potential girl to grow up in,

accepting the cold nights of reality...

Her dreams never come...

She screams but is never heard...

She hides...

She hides her fears of the dangers;

sickness after years of breathing exhaust fumes

harassment from extortionists,

often policemen and peers.

And in the heart of the innocent

where joy is less and pain hides pain,

she joined a group, The Gang,

a choice to a path towards darkness

where the devil stones cuts the flesh of the soul;

yet it never bleeds.

A life in a cage where endless woes are introduced

The battle of life and death

In the Street's activities

PICKPOCKETING is a little bit thrilling

in PROSTITUTION, agony is a true hope

DRUG ABUSE is tempting...

death

is coming

to her...

In her dark devastating demise

where her home has never been a paradise

subtle tremor ripping at her core...

She looks at us

but some of us don't see her...

and there she cries

with the street children...

SHE

is one

amongst

the valuable lives

T R A G I C A L L Y

spent.

I Came too Close in Saying Goodbye

I can't say goodbye to you
No matter how I tried
You're such a part of me
Without you,I would die
Deep in the heart of me
I know that You and I
Were meant to be together
I can't tell you goodbye
-Helen Reddy-

It's funny how sudden
Love turned to Hate
Cursing was my last option
but then,a tiny little voice inside me
said,Wait!
Isn't this man taught you how to be strong?

I can't believe what I could give
Courage rises from the ashes of outrage
I sink a little,hurt a lot,but I live
for You;my Avatar of Strength
Existence is one spicy crippled twists
Said some of my gray-haired buddies

No matter how I tried
to make a step and give up
I can't

I simply can't Dad
How can I give up a part of me?
How can I give up a wanderer
meant to conquer my dreams...
a star conceived to dominate my quintessence?

In your eyes rests the basis of my existence
In your smile I acquired strength
to love you more

So how can I say goodbye to the sun of my universe?

I won't...I can't

I love my Husband.

In Cimmirian Winds

The frozen stream of my realm 
took a deep breath 
and chants welcome the morn with calm 
peace soothed the core 
of my feed up soul 

The casting of light beams 
took over the darkish dim 
A dramatic scene sparkling... 

at the edge of my wearing lashes 
phoenixes soar,flaming 
Ever daring 
So many of them 
danced with the doves... 

exquisite movements 
stained by the strain of my silence 

In a kick of the tide, 
reality bites! 

I sit my concealing heart 
so intensely wounded 
that I.... 

I wept. 

I dreamt within my solitary dream 
hoping my amber eyes 
found solace with a springtime's grace 
But,sadly,the very core of my sighs 
shouted it was all a murky guise... 

Hands closed tightly and fractured, 
fighting against simple desires... 
that can't be mine. 

How long still I would wait, 
immersed here in Cimmerian winds, 
challenging the violent windstorm 
for a little smile beyond the norm?

Raped and Murdered Under the Moon

Raped and Murdered Under the Moon

(Inspired by WUNRN's INDIA:RAPE IS FASTEST GROWING CRIME)

http://wunrn.com

http://ipsnews.net/news.asp?idnews=54802

 Sun beams glided through my window pane

A reminder that it was morning and again

I had to get up and do the same

Work, a little argument here

and a little bit of laughter there

That was my life...

Until

I felt

the droplets of rain

hitting my skin

And I found myself

on the cliff of my course,

looking below.

The river of sorrow

was inviting me

perhaps...

was it death I saw?

That night

F E A R

coated my every nerve...

The perves,

they were coming towards me.

Hunger for meat

reflected on every tooth revealed

by their tightest devilish grins

They started to hold me

tease me, played with me

I wanted to shout my torment

with each baleful beat of my beyond-mending heart

But they smacked the stone on my head

The next thing I saw

I and my nakedness...

I, the destroyed mirror...

I bleed...

I was lying half dead.

The gang had succeeded 

The devils had raped me.

All my hopefulness morphed to pain

The air I breathe was hurting,

always rewinding 

of the throes that endured inside my heart.

I became 

a blank canvass

a silhouette in the darkness...

and after five days

My Constellation 

Fell...

Death consumed my all.

 

 

Her Sighs Injured the Morn

MOLESTED!

Her thoughts flowing 

On the stone cold walls

Of her melancholic dreams

Her weary brain

Seems to care less about what seems

True or false

Terminologies are there 

Gambolling on her tongue

Dawdling within the doors of her lips

Anticipating in sudden sorrow

of what is to be found

Perchance it's in the barren devouring dusk

Covered behind thick bars of fear and misfortune

Falling, failing, missing the clasp of existence 

Maybe it is gone in the crater of her anger

Maybe...

Maybe things that are meant to be

Will find its way 

Like how the incubus smothers her All

And...

In every cycle of the morn

Green grass gladly grows

Beautiful flowers blissfully bloom

But She...

She falls into pieces

Lays down her scars in silence,

And within her soundless screams

Is the flawless violence

That plays without end.