Speak Up Manifesto (Vol.1)

Visual artists, writers, poets, musicians, filmmakers, actors, performers and artists of all kinds,

creative people, recognized and unrecognized,

those who create artworks and those who try,

those who use mainstream tools and genres,

and those using unconventional tools, materials and media,

those who use air, water, earth and fire,

those who use walls and concrete, as well as those who use canvas, paper or camera,

the time has come!

Speak Up!

Artists, creative people, journalists and activist of all colors, genres, orientations and styles; multimedia artists, painters, filmmakers, DJs, poets, tattoo artists, actors, photographers, performers, musicians, singers, amateurs, professionals, graffiti artists, dancers, slammers, designers, writers…

You all are messengers of freedom. Speak Up!

Artists are those who create the mirror of the world, the ultimate witnesses of events. Artists are the consciousness of the society and shape the soul of cultures and civilizations.

Art is the spiritual, instinctive and intellectual mirror of the world. Time is a chaotic and senseless string of events until art recreates it in a meaningful story. Art awards life with meaning; gives contents to the unbearable absurdity of being.

Existence is unbearable emptiness, art is a fact.

Future is a vision and vision is art.

From the moment when the first humans have left a trace of their palm on the cave wall to the present day, making the first act of art ever known – art is the creative way of rethinking the world.

Today, we stand before the biggest challenge for human kind – making human rights and freedoms reality. And, we place our palm on the face of the world and demand rights now and for each and every one of us.

Express yourself! Do not hesitate, do not be afraid.

You are the one to rise and develop, leave traces of freedom and courage behind.

You are never alone. Your thoughts and your deeds, your creations are your companions. You don’t need recognition from those who commit crimes against beauty, those who understand nothing but the power of money and violence. Confront them with creativity and human values.

This is a call for solidarity among those who bring changes to the world for just being what they are.

This is a call for the liberation of thoughts.

Call for Action.

Speak Up!

another day

another day
to shake the tree
to hold your tears back
to make someone smile
to pretend you're OK

another day
to believe in dreams
to stand up for others
to be honest and ridiculed

another day
to dig into diamond caves
to find treasures worthless to others
to seek what cannot be found
to find what others don’t even try

another day
to look at the fading humanity
to lower your guard
to fight arrogance
to conquer yourself

another day
to stare at the grey face of aging
to cherish life and fear death
to sense the pulse of the loved ones
to miss those who are gone


HEAR THE SOUND OF IT HERE


***
Lyrics and voice: Xhabir Deralla
Music: Sead Hadzic-Secko
Illustrations: Miroslav Stojanovic Shuki

From "malfunction" - book of poetry, music and visuals
Published by Shortcut Production, 2012
All rights reserved

KEEP ON DREAMING

We found each other in the endless sea of sorrow
Sharing senseless history of diseases
Sitting in the bottom of the well
Playing with frogs and worms
Changing
Digging
Changing

We run from our parents to become parents
We kill to survive
We hurt each other to find refuge
We seek refuge where it never existed

Find emptiness in the crowded streets
Become artists where ugliness rules
Frames are made of gold and
Pictures are taken away

Letters never arrive in time
Meanings of symbols never unveil
Leaves turned black while waiting for the rain
Like the mother waiting for her son to return

Keep on dreaming, my dear child, keep on dreaming
Dreams are the only reality that matters
When life will stop beating
And record of pain will make a tiny bruise in the skies
Your dreams will remain

Keep on dreaming, my dear child, keep on dreaming

HEAR THE SOUND OF IT HERE

***
Lyrics and voice: Xhabir Deralla
Music: Sead Hadzic-Secko
Illustrations: Miroslav Stojanovic Shuki

From "malfunction" - book of poetry, music and visuals
Published by Shortcut Production, 2012
All rights reserved

I'M AT WAR WITH YOU

slimy, greedy, stupid and shallow
ignorant and arrogant bastards
senseless shitheads who belong
to nowhere and no time

I’m at war with you

pawns and bootlickers
peasants and small time assholes
hooligans and other rednecks
little dic[k]tators and wannabees

I’m at war with you

those who will remember you
will remember you in shame
your place is in the garbage of the history
that’s where you will remain
no matter what you do

you think politics is about power
and power is about turning people into dogs
right you are if you think of your flock
but I’m not one of you, will never be

I’m at war with you

HEAR THE SOUND OF IT HERE

***
Lyrics and voice: Xhabir Deralla
Music: Sead Hadzic-Secko
Illustrations: Miroslav Stojanovic Shuki

From "malfunction" - book of poetry, music and visuals
Published by Shortcut Production, 2012
All rights reserved

"malfunction" - book and CD

lyrics and voice: xhabir.deralla
music: sead.hadzic
illustrations: miroslav.stojanovic
click HERE to hear a selection of two tracks from the album attached to the book.
buy the book and the album in the bookstore of ILI-ILI or the music shop of 1/2 JUGOTON

Beauty and Ugliness

["Beauty and Ugliness" by Xhabir Deralla]

DESERTED GARDENS

[Deserted Gardens | postcard | lyrics&design by Xhabir Deralla | all rights reserved]

I DON’T BELONG TO YOUR RACE, BOY

I don’t belong to your race, boy
I don’t worship your idols and leaders and
Your silly anthems and slogans and
Don’t give a damn about your flags and other toys

I’m proud to be different
Call me a traitor or a newcomer
I know where I come from, boy
I know where I belong
I know where I go, boy

I’m the one who is free, boy, not you
I’m beautiful and unique
You are just an ugly number, boy
A meat for your greedy leaders

I’m proud to be who I am
You are the one who is confused
You are the frustrated one
You are the sick one, sick forever

Come down from the terrace, boy
Go home, boy, take care of your family
Find your peace, before trouble finds you
Stop acting stupid, boy, before it’s too late


***
I wrote this poem less than two weeks ago (on July 19), although I carry it in my thoughts for some time now. This poem is dedicated to all thugs and racist-nationalist idiots in my country and worldwide. I got particularly inspired by a song of local hooligans, but certainly think of all other shitheads around the world. I have quite a few more lyrics for and about them in my poetry book "Apocalypse" (published 2011), but even more in my new book of poetry and short stories, which is almost finished. I say almost because it's never finished unless it's printed. I wrote this poem in English, as most of my other works, but translated it in Macedonian language and posted it on my Monkeydonkeya Today blog. I also posted it in my new diary-blog CONSPECTIO. Thank you for reading!

Wake up and follow your dream!

Today, more than ever, we need dreamers. We need dreamers that share a dream of justice and humanity, freedom and equality, such as the dream of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Make room for your dreams and the dreams of your fellow citizens of the world. What can you do? Read Martin's speech, spread the word, tell people that dreams may become reality, only if we share it and spread it among each other. Reality based on dreams like this is the reality of a humane world.

Don’t be afraid to dream about justice and freedom. Don’t be afraid to demand respect and fulfillment of your dreams. Demand, so they will come true.

Remember January 15, as the birthday of a great representative of the human kind, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and be a proud and demanding dreamer on this day and the days to come.

Wake up and follow your dream!

Xhabir Deralla

DON'T LET THEM WIN

They will try to scare you, please you, bribe you

They will make promises, show you the easy part of life

They will tell you lies, give you slimy compliments

They will try to stop you from thinking

Or make you think they are just and honest

They will ask you to do yourself a favor

Like they won’t take anything for themselves

Turn them down, fuck ‘m all

Don’t let them fool you, don’t let them buy you

All they want is your soul, all they want is dirty gain 

After you turn them down, you will see their real faces

Facades will fall off

Claws and jaws stinking of their bloody ordeals will show

Smooth words will turn into morbid growls

The white book in their hands will turn black

The lyre will become a dagger

They’ll push you, kick you, kill you

Turn them down, fuck ‘m all

Don’t let them break you

Don’t let them win

The fight is about to begin

They have the money

They have the power of force

Tanks and truncheons, courts and prisons

They have the skies filled with COMSATs

The ground covered with wires,

CCTV and other surveillance toys

They have the money and force

Armies, police and bureaucrats to guard them

Gigantic machinery to keep them in power

Media, institutions, education systems

Always loaded with dutiful creatures

Always ready to obey, ready to commit

Unspeakable crimes to keep you down in the dust

Turn them down, fuck’m all

Don’t let them break you

Don’t let them win

The fight is about to begin

They may be huge and strong and ruthless

But they are stupid, old and ugly

Their dogs are shallow and slow

They have the muscle, you have the brains

You are smart and young and beautiful

They have the money, you have the youth

They have the COMSATs, you have the spray

They have the shotguns and tear gas

You have the stones and slogans

They own the land, you have the universe

They have the media, you have the sense of humor

They are going to die, you will remain

They will oppress, you will prevail

Turn them down, fuck’m all

Don’t let them fool you, don’t let them buy you

All they want is your soul, all they want is dirty gain

Make your dreams come true

For they will turn your life into nightmare

Turn them down, fuck’m all

Don’t let them break you

Don’t let them win

The fight is about to begin

From the "Apocalypse" published 2011
MORE HERE
Copyright: 2011 Xhabir Memedi Deralla

I GIVE YOU FREEDOM

by Xhabir M. Deralla

I give you freedom

I feed you

I let you work for me

I give you life and progress

Unless you are disobedient

I am your god

Unless you want me be your devil

I bring your decisions

And let you think that you decide

I watch you everywhere, 24/7

For the sake of your security

I give you pills to make you happy

I tell you what love is

I teach you what beauty is

I tell you what human is

And – it is human to kill under my command

It is civilized to attack and slaughter, rape and loot

It is honorable to die for me

I give you money to promote human rights

I let you say few nasty words about me

I even let you have some pocket money when you criticize me

You like that game, and I let you play

I engage your mind to invent new, sophisticated weapons

I take your best years to make a profit for the chosen ones

I let you die unconscious of the evil

I spare you from the pain of thinking

I extinguish nations and races

To create more space for you

To let you cherish freedom and democracy

And pay taxes neatly and regularly

When disbelief torments you, turn on the TV

From the "Apocalypse" published 2011

MORE HERE
Copyright: 2011 Xhabir Memedi Deralla

HIGHLIGHTS

FUGITIVE

Welcome To My World

Welcome to my world

Welcome to pain and absurdity and never-ending struggle
Frenetic questioning
Welcome to my continuous departures
Welcome to the relentless running away through weird landscapes
Welcome to the hordes of runaways you don’t know and will never meet
Yet they breathe into your ears, behind your eyes

My quest has never begun, it will never end
This is a microscopic drop distilled from the immense oceans
of questions and feelings
Suffering over the absurdity
Suffering over the sense that reality does and does not make
at the same time, all the time
Finding keys to doors that do not exist
The unstoppable delirium of one single human’s quest
This is the last chapter of the beginning
An invitation to commit suicide and the opposition to it

I rejected this world by embracing it and
I embraced the world that I despised
I do it day and night
The world does it to me in return
This is an unkind attempt to explain the obvious
A strike to the heart of misery,
still admitting misery as it is,
and as it cannot be escaped

I felt
I cannot feel anymore
I cried
No tears can I produce anymore
Finding truth
Until truth became an absolute lie
I lied
Not enough to survive
I crossed all lines of defense
Until it became ridiculous to defend anything
I found the ultimate solitude in the crowd
I found a crowd of ghosts inside me
I loved
I’ve been hurt
Too many times
I fell
And I found ways to fall again

I saw men, women and children who loved life
And became best friends with death and disease
I rose over the ruins of the world
But never learnt to deal with the damage

Sadness beyond sadness
Pain beyond comprehension

Why oh why did I have to see so well?
This incredible power of observation…
And such weakness before the knowledge

The torch has killed the carrier so often
Darkness has swallowed the light
So often, so often

Welcome to the chambers of decay and hum
Your brain becomes a blade under your neck
You willingly cut the throat of your hopes
It will send you to hell, where you actually belong

Welcome to my world
It’s all yours now

_______________________________________________________________

Cover: Book of poetry and photographs by Xhabir M. Deralla

45 poems, 19 images, 84 pages, B5 format

PURCHASE IT AT THE BLESOK ONLINE BOOKSTORE

_______________________________________________________________

Selection of images inside the book:

Facing Death

Abdomen

A Table

A Garden

All rights reserved.

The Deafening Whisper

Where do you think you will go from here?

You raped my mother

And shot her after your fellows followed you

Then you turned to my father and me

Handcuffed in the corner of the room

Shot us in the head and left

I will find you

When you try making love to your woman

I will sit on the couch and watch you, covered in blood

Post-traumatic disorder you will call me

You’ll try to chase me off with booze and pills, but

The deafening whisper will stay in your head

Where do you think you will go from here?

I will find you and stay with you forever

To the end of your days

Beyond death, I will be with you

I will be there, in the mirror, when you shave

At the bottom of the bottle my eyes will shine

I will hold your hand when you sleep

Knock on the door in the long silent nights

When you sit in your little backyard

You will see my shape in the shadows of your children

Xhabir M. Deralla

from "Apocalypse" (copyright Xhabir M. Deralla, 2011)

____________________________________________

Listen to the poem HERE; music by Mooger Fooger 
To purchase the book, click HERE
To see pics of the launch event, click HERE

XHAD AGAINST GUNS

APOCALYPSE

to buy online, click HERE:

The Book

“Apocalypse” by Xhabir Memedi Deralla is a book of poetry and photographs, published by Shortcut Production in association with Cultural Institution Blesok, in April 2011.

The book contains 45 poems in English and 19 images. Editor of this book is Wendy Hassler-Forest, Project Manager at the Musicians without Borders.

The book is divided in several chapters, all depicting the dark reality of the present and even darker future. Political poems present the Author’s view on human rights and freedoms situation in the country and the world. Some poems describe the vicious life in the city, taking you to the world of bars, sex, alcohol and the urge for self-destruction. Many poems tell the story of the eternal questions of existence and meaning of life.

“Dark and seductive, sometimes pessimist but mostly rebellious” – the editor Hassler-Forest commented on the author’s poems at one occasion.

“Their reality is painful at moments, but essential, as well. Like a doctor who has to tell the diagnose to the patient, sentences line one after another, always personal – never general or neutral, sentences that carry the flag of truth in the revolution of mind” – writes Miroslav Stojanović-Šuki[1], painter and multimedia artist (full article: http://shortcut-xhd.blogspot.com/2011/04/miroslav-stojanovic-shuki-poetry-of.html).

The Launch

The book launch took place on April 27, at Menada Club (Skopje Old Town).

The program included an exclusive stage performance of the prominent rock band Mooger Fooger and the Author. Most of the lyrics of Mooger Fooger’s new album (to be released earliest in September) are from Deralla's “Apocalypse”.

Soon: exclusive video of the performance of Mooger Fooger and Xhabir M. Deralla

more links:

http://shortcut-xhd.blogspot.com/

http://www.facebook.com/xhabir.deralla

http://twitter.com/#!/XhabirDeralla

---

[1] Miroslav Stojanović-Šuki authored 20 artworks in combined techniques (project: Print on Black - No Good Will Come of This), inspired by Deralla's poems.

More info at: http://urban-wolf.blogspot.com/2010/10/print-on-black-no-good-will-come-of.html

ONE WOR(L)D

click on this wor(l)d

save this wor(l)d

spread this wor(l)d

love this wor(l)d

fight for this wor(l)d

CRUSADERS AND SARACENS

Dictators will stay in power as long as people are divided. Unite, before they crush you! This is a thought that I want to elaborate more comprehensively, but tonight, I will give it a more trivial dimension. I wrote this on the second day after the inter-ethnic and interreligious quarrels rose again in Macedonia. I will return to my original thought of the beginning of this note, some other time, and will be more responsible to its real weight. Here, I will just use it to begin a note about Crusaders and Saracens in Skopje in the 21^st century.

Well, it all started with the government’s "next step" of the “Skopje 2014” project (worth 200 million euro or more) in the face of the so-called museum church on the Kale of Skopje. (The church alone is worth 1.7 million euro.) The leading political party of the Albanians (DUI), otherwise a coalition party in the government, argued against it. The leading Macedonian part of the government decided to freeze the project. For the time being...

The dispute started over night, literally. Actually, the government carried on building the church over night, secretly, despite its promise that the project will stop. Can you imagine? Government sneaks like a thief (over night) to a construction site to continue building a church! A crowd of angry Albanians, led by high DUI officials crumbled the construction down on Thursday night. Great! Of all issues that torment all citizens (including Albanians) in the country, these politicians picked a religious one. The Pride-Minister knows where to strike…

Yes! It was a great, sacred night. “Religion-driven” quest against “religion-driven” Pride-Minister, who probably believes he’s a conquistador or something... Crusaders and Saracens, Skopje, 21^st century. Bizarre!

It caused a wave of ethnic tensions, of course. Nationalist-idiotic journalists, editors, and politicians enjoy the games again. The nationalist rhetoric, the entire arsenal, didn’t bring any new, neither less filth. Moreover, the latest incident is both inter-ethnic and interreligious. Politicians, both those in power and in opposition must be very happy with this. The more distraction from government’s wrongdoings and opposition’s incapability to offer real solutions, the better… And, people bought it, as usual…

Unemployment, poverty, international isolation, crime, corruption, violation of human rights, dictatorial behavior of those in power – will continue growing, as long as ethnic divisions and tensions exist. Those responsible of people’s troubles will get away with it, and people will hate each other for being different. Again…

That’s where I connected my thought at the beginning with these events: As long as politicians manage to divide people over this and such issues, they – the people – will be unable to unite against little-big wannabe dictators. Meanwhile, Crusaders and Saracens will fight a war of the past that will cost us the future. And, will turn this ugly city into even uglier village.

Um, wannabe dictators… I like this one.

That Peculiar Friend

Insomnia, that peculiar friend…

Doesn’t come, doesn’t leave

Like drops of heavy oil,

minutes are sliding down the walls of time

getting nowhere

Time is longer and thicker over night, I discover

Thoughts are drilling harder, too, self-coerced

Seeking for attributes does not complete the picture

The night remains a blank page, calm, yet disturbing

So impersonal and cold, inevitable

Quintessence of loneliness

Waiting for the skies to turn grey

Defrost the pendulum

And harbor another morning

Yet, nightmares won’t leave

And another night will come, I know

Take me back to my peculiar friend

To hold my hand and wrap up my brain

© Xh.D. 2011