URGENT… BREAKING NEWS


Goodness is Life

 

 

We all have seen the crime scene

Broadcasted live on our TV screens

We have seen the blood flowing

We have heard the deafening screams

The murder-weapon is known to all

Signed “with love” by some “chosen souls”

It thundered down with a “gracious” fall

A sigh of relief

followed the storm

It can’t get worse

We all exclaimed

We’ve hit rock bottom

We’ve seen it all

No my dears not so fast

That is simply not precise,

Far from it!

I forgot to tell you,

Mr Worst is yet to come

He is knocking at our doors

.
 .

The camp of gory fantasise their “glory”

Huffing and puffing for their “mighty rise”

“Smite them all” their favourite hymn

Biocide became the madmen surname

Demons of Death, their middle-name

.

Just over there, across the divide

The Camp of Goodness noble, steadfast

A home for love, heart open wide

Not a predator nor a beast

Aggression is vice, he greatly abhors

But when pushed down, he has a bite

For the sake of truth, he lays down his life

Just like life, rich and mysterious

Majestic… graceful… vigorous … arcane

Patience is his middle name

Kindness fills his heart and soul

 
* * * * *

O dear friends, heed my call

“Survival of the fittest” is one big lie

The kind and righteous are the heirs

Most able to love, care and share

With open arms, they fully embrace

Dawn fast approaching, open your eyes

Laws of nature can’t be destroyed

Humanity is here to stay

Forces of darkness knows no way

To put off the light of one faint ray

Swarms of evil can’t exterminate

Seeds of nature, resilient, most pure

Thrive and survive, Divinely signed its DNA

 

Dear friend It’s not a pretty game

But
Abyss is a choice, so is Paradise

Avoid the void, shift your paradigm

Come what may, don’t ever lose hope

With glad tidings, I speak to you

Before the crowd, I gladly proclaim

Polarisation, well on its way

No standing on the fence, as per today

Blessed are the kind, blessed are the meek

Blessed are the ones who stand for the weak

David and Goliath, don’t you recall?

Be the little Davids of our time

Exactly like us, he only had a stone

 

Don’t waste time in pitiful blues

Shed off your pride and grumpy moods

Run to the arms of those who love you

Wipe off your tears and start a new

.

Final Call


Bani Israel 
You’ve dug yourselves a hole
You keep digging… Fools
The flood is behind you
Tears and blood and floating body parts
For those of you with hearts that see
Those who want to save themselves
Very little time left
Give up your guns
Give up your greed 
Give up your arrogance
 Give up your support of a doomed ideology
Join humanity
 Face your demons
  Climb down from your pedestal 
 Come begging for forgiveness
Without which redemption is no more
 
Shed off your delusions:
Your “chosen-ness”… Heh
Your “chosen-ness” is your biggest downfall
The call of all prophets:
Hear O Hear, Bani Israel
The darkest of your nights
Has been announced
 Clocks are ticking . . .
Retrieve your conscience
Come running 
You have been warned
The End Game is upon us
 The day of your atonement is within sight 

Beloved Jerusalem


Ten measures of sorrow God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of pain God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of agony God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of heartache God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of suffering God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of trauma God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of patience God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of endurance God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of bravery God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of benevolence God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of determination God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of generosity God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of modesty God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of tenderness  God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of blessing God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of kindness God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of joy God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of wisdom God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of elegance God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of peace God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of harmony God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of tranquility God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of grace God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of  sweetness God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of compassion God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of gentleness God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of mercy God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of faithfulness God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of devotion God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of love God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of beauty God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of hope God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Ten measures of holiness God gave to the world

Nine to Jerusalem and one to the rest

Only in Palestine


In Palestine, good and evil assemble

In a stark contrast

Staring eye to eye

Epitome of enigma

 

In Palestine, heroism meets cowardice heads on

Standing side by side in broad daylight

No concealment, no pretense

 

In Palestine, kindness puts bitterness to rest

Mercy descends, flakes of heaven, embraces the world

Malice melts away, hiding in rat-holes

“Never forget and never forgive” mantra is brought to shame

 

In Palestine, walls all around

Yet, sitting on the fence is no longer an option

Hearts connects swimming in ether, divine

 

In Palestine, prophets, saints and angels graduate

Words of wisdom cascade abundant

Yet, of sorcery, fiends and devils froth into being

 

In Palestine, hatred is a chain, millennia old

Pulling beasts to Hell of depravity

Yet, love dances with poise and grace

 

In Palestine, meadows of endurance blossom in parched soil

Painting the horizon, Arcadia masterpiece

Tears of elation and whispers of devotion flow

 

In Palestine, tenderness is a melody, hummed by Gaza shores

Filling hearts with beauty and joy

Healing wounded girls and boys

 

In Palestine, love is a rainbow, shimmering above

Lifting to Heavenly splendour

Anguished pained nostalgic souls

 

In Palestine, faith is an ocean

Patience is a globe

Hope is a sky of infinite scope

 

In Palestine, sinners are repentant

The pious clothed in modesty

Lovers are the guides

 

In Palestine, brothers cherished

Sisters crowned queens,

Children adored, fathers revered

Under mothers’ feet Paradise laid down

 

In Palestine, the hungry is fed, the prisoner is embraced

The lost will be guided and truth-seeker will find

 

When you are a Palestinian


A poem by Shadi Abdul-Kareem

Translation by Nahida Exiled Palestinian

When you are a Palestinian 
You would need daily practice of hiding tears 
And swallowing huge chunk of wishes 
 Overflowing from your reality
 In front of which you stand flabbergasted 
Wondering who’d find the genie’s lamp 
That would bring back your olive tree, 
the straw tray and the sea fragrance? 

When you are a Palestinian 
You wouldn’t dare to broaden your smile 
The ghosts of Alaqsa would encircle you 
And the blood of Saladin which runs in your veins 
Would remind you whenever you attempt to smile 
That your smile is a betrayal… punishable by history 

 

When you are a Palestinian 
You cannot dream solo 
There is always someone with you 
Rather taking control 
And whilst others dream of wealth, power, wife, children 
Your dream is 
A nap beneath an orange tree in Haifa 
A cup of coffee by the shore of Tabareya 
A prayer that rises up to heaven
 Following the footsteps of the beloved 
When you are a Palestinian 
You’d live in a state of unceasing absence of normal life
 No wakefulness… no sleep 
No work… no rest 
No awareness… no unconsciousness 
Without the remembrance of Palestine;
 
How was Palestine!
What became of Palestine!
And what will happen to Palestine?
When you are a Palestinian 
You would live a stranger in your homeland 
And a stranger outside your homeland 
 You would provoke all kinds of feelings
You’d be an instigator of pity, some times 
An instigator of sadness, some times 
An instigator of curiosity, some times 
An instigator of admiration, many times 
When you are a Palestinian 
You’d work tirelessly 
Promoting a redundant commodity 
Called DIGNITY
No longer in circulation 
Since new dictionaries of morality have been invented 
When you are a Palestinian 
 You will unavoidably get an illness called melancholy 
You will infect all those who know you
 And those who gaze at the caged tears in your eyes 
And those who’d listen to the howl of mosques, churches and stones in your voice 
When you are a Palestinian 
You would enjoy an extraordinary memory 
You’d remember the number of sand grains under the sea
 The voice of every muezzin 
The laughter of every child 
You’d remember the colour of dawn 
The flavour of sleep
 The scent of rain 
You’d also remember those black nights 
The voices of their monsters and their moves 
You would remember the smell of death mixed with gunfire 
You’d remember the wailing of widows
 And the moaning of little girls 
You’d remember your footsteps towards the oblivion 
Every tear, and over which soil granule it fell 
When you are a Palestinian 
You’d discover the value of numbers 
You’d fall in love with them 
Or hate them 
A strong bond will anchor you 
Since your name became a number 
Your history, a number 
Your home address, a number 
Your lost-family members, a number 
Those who died, who imprisoned, who were torn to pieces… numbers 
The days you squandered -or squandered by- in refugee camps… a number 
Your dreams and failed prophecies of the day of your return… a number
 You’d appreciate indeed the value of numbers 
You’d be filled with gratitude to those who invented numbers 
Otherwise your life would’ve been lifeless, and numberless 
When you are a Palestinian 
You’d live in chronic yearning to a past you never knew 
And to future you would never know

 

When you are a Palestinian 
Words of love would not matter to you 
Nor the stock market
 Nor festival celebrations here and there
 It would not matter to you if nights became endless 
Or if days disappeared forever
 It would not matter to you if the year is twelve months 
Or twelve watermelons 
It would not matter to you if people ascended to the moon 
Or if the moon descended to them 
It would not matter to you if a party loses the election and another wins 
It would not matter to you if a country is triumphant and another defeated 
All what matters to you is that PALESTINE WAS STOLEN
And IT MUST BE OBTAINED BACK 

 

When you are a Palestinian 
You would abruptly stop talking
 And leave the story unfinished 
The poem without an ending 
As most likely the ideas in your head would become overcrowded 
So much so that they’d run over each other 
And you’d have to stop writing or talking immediately 
To attend the funeral of those thoughts which have been squashed 
And died before even being born 
Therefore
I will cut short my speech 
Leave to give my condolences in exile
 Where thoughts pass away 
Because they refuse to survive 
Without a HOMELAND

PALESTINE, Not Just a Name!


Palestinians

No more, a bunch of refugees

Palestinians

Not a mere oppressed and dispossessed victims, struggling for survival

 

Palestinians

A symbol of courage, determination

endurance and inspiration

 

Palestinians

Professors of endurance and dignity

Spearheading the battle of justice and freedom

On behalf of humanity

 


Palestine

 No more, a mere geographical location

Palestine

No longer a closed chapter in a book of history,

as they intended it to be

 

Palestine

A poignant story,

A beautiful vision,

 A passionate cause,

 An exquisite poem,

 A melody for freedom

 An inspirational idea,

A moral concept

 that could never be destroyed

 

A Palestinian Stone Speaks out


His small swift hand, 
Picked me up 
And the soft, gentle palm
 Gave me a cuddle 
Warm, safe and secure 
He made me feel.. 
He said no words
 He shed no tears
 YET… 
His long lasting pain
 I couldn’t ignore
 Bulldozers.. tanks
And F16s
 With evil colours
 Evil sights
 Evil touch 
And evil sounds
  Surrounded his tiny frame 
Proclaiming 
The evil war of
“Absolutely No Shame” 
 He squeezed me hard 
Knowing it’s good-bye 
“Just throw me
As hard as you can”
 I whispered…
“Together …
We’ll be fine !!” 
And just for a moment
I felt eternity 
Only for a moment
I touched infinity… 
When “Brave-Heart” boy 
Feels so strong 
And there he stands 
All… alone
 Facing evil armies.. 
Only with a stone 
The evil bullet was faster
 Than his little hand
His frail… pale body 
Falls to the ground 

With a beautiful smile 

He says his good-bye 
His soft gentle palm 
Gave my soul
Its peaceful eternal hug!

With a scorching tear 

and heartfelt cry

I proclaimed

YOU Palestinian,

My beloved child

A teacher of dignity 

to all mankind


Childhood Friends


Trembling,  my hands over my heart

Walking towards them, thinking:

All those years, they haven’t changed a bit!

Do you remember me?
I whispered
I used to play here
long time ago


Do you remember the girl who used to arrive to school at dawn


while people still asleep


Yes it’s me


The girl who tiptoed her way in
not to disturb the melody of birds singing their morning prayer


The girl who used to tell you stories
about her lucent wings which could only open
when no one is looking


The girl who used to dream of her home in heaven
its rainbow staircase and windows of stars
her bed of roses
blanket of jasmine and pillow of clouds
The girl who used to tell you stories
about her doll who could read and write
but who could only talk at the stillness of the night

The girl with a wooden horse
 who could only fly
when children lay in bed and close their eyes

The girl who adored her doll’s family
who lived far away but could only visit
when boys and girls cross the line into dreamland


Do you remember me?

I used to play here

long time ago

Heart pounding, I whispered

Blushing, they turned their heads, looked at me-
Faces beaming, they nodded
 and smiled

Poppies in my grandmother’s olive grove, on my way to school, Bayt Iksa, Palestine, April 2012


Once upon a time, I lived in Heaven


Once upon a time 
When I was a little girl
My dreams were wild and colourful 
 Just like my hair
Like all boys and girls
I grew inside a rose
When I was a little girl
I played around
Floating over waterlilies
Bouncing in the shadow of poppies
Hiding under garden leaves
and in my grandma’s shawl
Gathering stars 
Thumbelina I was called, by my fairy friends
 Who often hovered around the hills of  Beit Iksa, where angels dwell
 Chasing lilac footsteps of my fairy friends
 Fluttering my wings,
 I flew up up and away 
To the peak of Nabi Samuel
 Up there
 Close to Heaven
Overwhelmed with the magic of my existence 
 Astounded by being AWARE
 Full of love, unbound
Mind blown away
 In adoration
Face to the ground, I pray
Praising the One Sublimes
For a wondrous gift of life 
 At twilight, I made my way down
Rolling in a metal barrel
Heading to my grandparents’ home
 
 Little children gathered
 Hearts pounding
Eyes open wide
In curious anticipation
 Listening to my grandfather stories
Of men, women and children
 With lives of purity
And hearts of gold
In the stillness of night
 We could hear prophets breathing
 We could see them praying side by side
 Bewildered by the grace of mother and son
 Into dreamland, we drifted away
Where love grew on trees 
 Peace covered the ground 
Kindness filled the oceans
Joy descended from the sky as rain
 
Colourful words swirled around

 YES . . .

 

 Once upon a time 
 I lived in HEAVEN
 Nostalgic, I recall
IMG_0413 copy

Most Precious Gifts


Leaving Palestine when I was seven put my life on hold

Leaving Palestine today tore my soul away Shredded, it lingered behind
Scattered between the hills of El Haram El Shareef and Olive Mount

Casting her shadow

A rainbow of tenderness and love

over the graves of her ancestors


Drenched with sorrow
Imbued with sadness
Empty, as if bereaved;
I walked away
“Cheer up”, I whispered in my ear
“Think of what you just had
where have you been?
what have you seen?”
Sparkles of light peeked through my grief
Sprouting lilies
Blossoming hearts and stars
Then I heard my heart singing 
I had been to PALESTINE
I had been to PALESTINE 
I had seen it IN SPRING
I had seen it IN SPRING
First time since exile
Forty five years of cruel exile
I had been to PALESTINE

 

A beatific gift… humbling down
Thank you God, Most Gracious, Most Sublime
I had been to PALESTINE
I had the honour to stand before a child
whose gaze caresses Jerusalem hills
as she wanders in her thoughts
At night, she opens the door
Her colourful dreams run outflying over the village next door
Stroking her hills, calming her fearsGiving Lifta solace in her solitude

Praying with her for the return of her loved ones
Humbled, besotted, full of adoration
I fall on my knees
 Thank you God, Most Gracious, Most Sublime
I had been to PALESTINE
I had the pleasure
of looking into the eyes of my grandmother
To kneel before her, kiss her hand
To see her smiling
To hear her voice
To hold her close
To dry my tears with her veil
To soothe my heart with her prayers
Thank you God, Most Gracious, Most Sublime
I had been to PALESTINE
With the eyes of my soul
I had seen my many loved ones
my parched heart swells with gratitude

Flowers with joy
Smiles grow broad, sincere and serene
Thank you God, Most Gracious, Most Sublime

YES
I had been to PALESTINE
Thank you God, Most Gracious, Most Sublime
On the Road Again

“Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.” — Maya Angelou

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