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The White Paper: Exposition of the Morality of Chemicals used in “Peacefare”


by J I V A N A

· Art-Stories-Poetry

Last time we were called to protect,

there was anger in some of our hearts.

Including mine.

But this time, when we turned on the music

Listen all you Mother Fuckers”

It stirred laughter.

We agreed with the message

but we weren’t angry anymore.

And in this sort of situation, we couldn’t be.

When you face death, you can cower

or you can laugh.

It was difficult to ask people to go on this mission.

“Do you think you can do it?”

Meaning, use my newfound superpowers.

“I have hope,”

It was a half smile, but the sentiment was full.

And that was enough for them.

Sometimes people just want to know

that somebody does (have hope).

It could have been a suicide mission

But people needed help.

And we were a new kind of response unit.

A creative One.

A revolution of love, movement.

“Get wet, it’s time to glow.”

And in the cover of night

Like bioluminescent sea peoples, we invaded the land.

When day broke, Zoe asked.

“Why do we need to use it this time, the sunshine?”

Orange sunshine, our peacefare chemical agent.

“Because we can’t come in with the music.”

She should have known,

that’s how my powers are activated.

“We have to open their hearts so we can turn the music on.”

We came into the small, Nicaraguan town

smoke plumed in the distance

the road by the church was lined with armed men and tanks.

We held hands as we approached the front line.

“We are seeds!” Zephyr silently declared.

They could tell we were protestors to their war.

But somehow, they did not shoot.

The holding hands may have helped.

Our inner-sparkle unicorns most certainly did.

They let us approach them. They could see we were unarmed.

Out of nowhere, Zephyr pulled out a picture of Mary

And then we offered them bottles of water

-spiked- but seemingly untampered with.

“Bendito de Paz de Maria”.

They checked the caps.

Secure. So they drank of it.

We bowed and then retreated

never losing eye contact until we found our spot

to sit in a circle.

As rehearsed we pressed our palms together -

feigning to pray.

When one of the guards finally noticed a peculiarity on one of the bottles

It was too late.

Many minutes had passed

Maybe 43

Now was the time

to be One.

We hit the button,

Listen all you Mother Fuckers”

It was necessary

that line.

We needed our joke.

We needed to laugh

so we would not cower.

It wasn’t their language, it just sounded like good music

and so they laughed too.

That's how we knew it had started.

Laughing Spirit then helped us get up

and show them how to dance.

The mix was good:

the laughter, the sunshine, the music, the superpowers.

We won.

They put down their guns.

They released prisoners.

Children and families ran free.

With tears cleansed old wounds,

their hearts were changed.

And so on this day,

this part of the world changed too

and for all days going forward.