Poems for Palestine
There I lay bleeding to death in Jenin
Under the rubble
In palpable darkness I heard someone pray
For the birth pangs of Palestine
To come to an end
So they may emerge from the rubble to walk with their loved ones
In peace in their sacred land
We who daily defy death
In the hands of those who seek medals
Calculate every move
Every second everyday
I was deaf in Ramallah
For three days
From sounds of mortar and bombs
My house a pile of stones
With splatters of my children’s blood
I do not know whether you tried to call me
I also wondered if Yasser Arafat was alright
Today even he pays the pipe
Calls for the new song
Let us go to the Bush
To contemplate our next move!
Who will understand me when I Will my own death
And take with me to judgement the murderers of my soul?
I said to my love:
” Tomorrow I am going to die forgive’‘’‘
I will bury you on our sacred soil” she said
“No” I told her
“I will bury myself on every stone
And blade of grass
Every leaf of every tree in Palestine
After the explosion of our bodies”
I am here with you O! Mouin Beseiso
Oh! You Fatima and Leila and Mahmoud
I report for new duties in this world of fluid boundaries
I am A Palestinian
I am a martyr
When little children die from Israeli shrapnels
Under falling walls of their homes
From mortar and bombs
Green trees begin to burn
And giant green flames consumes our humanity
But it is the silence of the world that is more deadly!
He who walks the rubble filled streets
Picking up fragments of children of the pets
Pieces of flesh
Has every reason to be angry
Every reason to want to kill
Every reason to want to blow the world to bits
Every reason to doubt everything
I write poems to retain my hope
To fuel my anger
To contemplate the next move
For the re-birth of Palistine!
Palestine, Groin Of your Wounds
O! Daughter’s of Palestine!
Sons of Palestine!
Like you I have known raids at dawn
Dodged torrents of bullets
At home and abroad
On street corners and in my dreams
I have seen bullet-driven bodies of comrades
Sisters and brothers
Young and old carried high in nights meant for love
O! Sons of Palestine!
Daughters of Palestine!
Was I not there in Tal-Alazar?
Your Nablus is my Soweto and Sharpeville!
Your Jillon my Boiphatong!
Your Gaza my Makhutha!
We too boast of many Sabras and Shatilas
We tease bullets lodged in our hearts
And in the retinas of our eyes
Yet still carry the vision of a free land!
Like you I have seen blood where no wounds were
We who rose against the nocturnal beasts
Who glory in death
Hunted across borders
Betrayed by our own supported by cousins of those who kill us
Died slipping on bars of soap in prison cells
Died drowning in basins in our prison cells
We have seen strange things in our times
Now ride on the crest of a wave of freedom in our land
You too will ride the robust wave in our own land
Let us stand together
Compare our wounds our pains
Our defiance, our dreams
Our love of freedom and peace
You too will live to sing new songs
In your land
Free At last !!!!