I walk BRAVO
My skin is sun kissed
But my body is Bravo
Bravo! That’s what the outsider say for ‘WELL DONE”
The Italians think it means “BRAVE”
But you know what I think?
Bravo is a cell injected in my body about to explode
Bravo is a substance reaction that made my Bubu blind
Bravo is a deliberate performance in the sky
A calculated invisible to camouflage the visible
Burn tears burn dry
Bravo is my siblings born a defect machine
Bravo is a gene I pass
A replicate of a poisonous culture
But you know….
My Island a Castle before Bravo.
Japan -Fukushima treated water discharge plan
We are no 'nukes for peace'-scientist
But we will not be radio-silenced-on-this
Scientific evidence buttering up their touch
But nothing as confusing as living in an atomic flask
First they sample our existence in secret labs
Now they inject our Waitui with lethal stabs
This is not about gradual release
This is about accumulation of adverse reactions
Slow doses of poison ingested
Like grains of sand
Make up the seashore land
Be it in my toe, taro leaf or wind blow
Day-light walking ghosts for the puppet-show
My oceanic body knows one or two thing
Treated water is not saltwater
Black tea or white tea, is still tea
Even if my tongue sleeps on me,
the Cod in my belly chokes from a cycle of injury
This is not about dirty water made clean
This is about precedence
Setting the scene
A type of dual use
A gateway and a get-a-way
Push a little is to push for more
The old rat wheel garlanded with fragrance of cherry blossoms protected by touch-me-not roses
of the sweet iron fist
This is not about secured water
This is about accidental spillages
One drop, two drop, three drop
Weak spots in my throat
This is not about transparency
This is about war currency
carefully wrapped in peaceful apologies
Rising in up-roar,
We are ocean currents in the sea floor
anchoring our ocean-ship in this diamond trick
the salt in the water.
“I am betting on love. Love is our strength. Love formed the weave and called it to being. It is love for who we are and for which we are that will set us all free. Love is the advocate that transcends bilateralism. Love is the decision maker in us, with us and through us. It is about love. It is about ALL of us.”
Inap Yu Harim Mi!
Inap yu harim mi?
Olsem laion i singaut nogut tru long kindom
Mi weit tasol long go fri
Ol tambaran man win gen
Mi stap insait long pasin nogut blong ol
Gan em kilim na bagarapim mipela
Liklik man wantain liklik tingting
Inap yu lukim mi?
Mi kalabus long soul blong me yet
Lewa blong mi buruk stret
Ol masol blong mi kisim bagarap
Bloot i kapsait long lewa na neck in drai tumas
Taim bloot is ron long dispela rot blong seim pasin
Man wantain ol pikinini tu
Ol i dai long dispela nait
Olsem na bai mi larem dispela pasin nogut go yet?
Mi no wanpela diwai nogat frut long en
Mi save mi igat planti
Mi wanpela blong Wes Papua stret
Body blong mi stap long kalabus
Tasol spirit blong mi em fri
Oseania kirap! Kirap long krai blong mi
Mi wanpela blong yupela na yu wanpela blong mipela
Mipela skelim wan solwara, spirit na laikim mama graun blong yumi
Tasol yu fri na mi nogat
Mi salem han blong mi kam long yu
Yu bai mekim wanem?
All the Way from Down Here
This video is the second installment in a series produced by the winners of APLN’s 2022 Pacific Islands Creative Competition on “Nuclear Weapons and the Climate Crisis.” The purpose of the video series is to showcase each winner, their stories, and the detrimental impact that nuclear weapons policies, practices, and climate change have had on their respective communities.
Through this video, Luisa Tuilau aims to strengthen advocacy action on victim assistance and environmental remediation for individuals and areas affected by nuclear weapons testing. She shares the story of a family from the Marshall Islands, a country that had been used as a testing ground by nuclear-armed states, most notably the United States, from the 1940s to the 1990s. The mother, Brooke Takala, and her two boys, recount the ongoing, tangible impacts they still endure today as a result of nuclear weapons use and testing, as well as their hope for the future.
THE FISHERMAN'S PRAYER
FROM A POET TO THE POET
From the pieces of soil
forming me to every
thread of hair you see,
From every native word I
speak to the taste of
native food in my mouth,
From the same Waitui we
swim to the diverse noke
that holds our stories,
Singing the revolution
song don't sound the
same no more.
But, Ikwe oyau.
From Kolonization to
Au tu gi, tu ge, tu ga
My enemy in disguise
Sweet kisses before the
My brother in the battle
Let's enjoy the last
I hear the rooster crow
See you on the other side.