“She is my muse and I would spend my life with her in bed if I could. She already took a bullet for me. I call her Tank Girl. Remember that flick?” ~ Priest, War Correspondent, Hostage
THE DEN – HOSTAGES FOR PEACE – PART 3 – THEIR HOME – FAMILY – LOVES
Africa is the womb. The human diaspora takes turns trying to crawl back in the womb, country by country; colonial eras star spangle it’s Karma. Civilization is measured by the treatment of women and children; mothers and wombs.
Hostages are used by patriarchal despots to negotiate the plight of the haves and have-nots, and tower over women and children. Yet, every man is a mother’s son. Suppose the matriarchy, the womb, rears its umbilical. Suppose she comes from Africa’s eden land east, yet claims the seed of so many tribes aloof in the world.
And suppose she captures hostages for peace rather than prisoners for war. And suppose she enlists Khalil Gibran’s children as soldiers to hunt down hugs that will embrace a true new world order.
The Den 