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A cry for peace
We can sit and weep forever
For losing “peace”
In our lives
In our homes
Within our families
In our countries
On our Earth
Sitting down there crying
Can’t bring “peace” safely back home
There is only one way
To find the long lost “peace”
Just by being just
For justice and peace come as a one
Hand in hand
If we want just peace
We must have a just peace
Only then the cry for peace
Will become the joy of peace
Filed under: poems for Palestine | Leave a comment »
A crime at dawn
The colour is that of love
So vivid, so loud
When glowing inside you
Nothing can hide
The fragrance is that of joy
Twisting and twirling
With a rainbow spiral
Elevating you to heaven
The touch is that of passion
Amusement and wonder
Like a baby’s soft hand
Wrapped around your finger
So pretty, so graceful
in beautiful velvet dresses
Holding on to one another
As a loving family kind and tender
Gently warming your heart
With magical memories of all your loved ones
Peacefully softening your soul
With words of praise
That you didn’t even know
You knew
Gasping for its final breath
This pure innocent soul
Was still giving away
So generously
All its being
Loving unconditionally
With no expectations
Along side the dying beauty
Was the murder weapon
Top quality stainless steel, they say
So sharp it can rip a bone apart
The cold creepy jaw
Sends shivers down your spine
The painful pointy edges await in hunger
To claim the life of yet another victim
And if you look closer
With your eyes wide open
You might even see
The blood droplets
Of a dying rose
On the shiny sharp teeth
Of a stainless steal scissors
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A conversation between two hearts
Joy?! What is joy?
It is that feeling
When you start jumping
Up and down?
It is that feeling
When you are beating
As fast as you can!
Aha… I know,
But, that to me
Is fear and terror
When f16’s are shelling
Every house in town
I start jumping
Like a mad clown!
Is this really joy?
No… No
Joy is that feeling
When you are going
To meet some dear one you love
As if you’re flying in the clouds
Up above
Aha… I know
But this is to me
So sad and painful
For I can’t stop the tears flooding down
Looking at my father
Behind the prison bars!
Unable to touch him
Or even kiss him goodbye!
Is this really joy?
No… No
Joy is what you get
When you really want
Just to stop all time
Wishing that
The hand of the clock
Never ticks, nor tocks
Freezing that moment
Forever and ever!
Aha… I know
But, this is to me
Horror and beyond
When soldiers come dashing
Knocking at the door
Crashing and smashing
Mixing rice flour and oil
Looking for my brother
Who just turned thirteen
Is this really joy?
No… No
Joy is so warm
Like,
When you’re wrapped up
In your cozy bed
In a soft blanket
With your cuddly toy!
Aha… I know
But, this is what I get
When they start bombing
The late night shelling
I feel hot and sweaty
Hiding under my bed
Scared and terrified
Is that really joy?
No… No
Joy is so sweet
Like chocolate and candy-bars
When you start eating
You can never stop
Aha… but I don’t know
What is chocolate?
And what is candy-bars?
I guess I’ll never know
What is joy
For I am only
The heart
Of a Palestinian boy
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The Play
Venue: The Holy Land/ Palestine
Time: 1948 am- 2006 pm (58 years)
Tickets: free to all nations
Kill them
Burn them
Don’t leave any of them
But.. but sir,
They’re only unarmed civilians
Thousands killed, hundreds of thousands made refugees
Second scene: 1967 (19 years later)
Shoot them
Don’t leave any of them
They’re defending their homes
Soldier.. obey the orders
YES SIR
Thousands killed ,hundreds of thousands more refugees
Third scene: 1987 (20 years later)
Shoot them
Kill them
Don’t leave any of them
But..but sir
Forth scene: 2006 (18 years later)
Shoot them
Kill them
Burn them
Don’t leave any of them
But.. But sir I DID
And I can’t get rid of them!
To be continued….
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Did you touch the sky, one day
With finger-tips of love and joy ?
Did you feel the wind, one day
Dancing with your heart … hoy… hoy
Did you hear your doll, one day
Praying along with every toy ?
Did you smell the grass, one day
Breathing hope in and out comes pain ?
Did you slide the rainbow, one day
Ridding wings of angels… painting drops of rain ?
Did you ask your self, one day
Am I really mad
Or simply…just sane !
Filed under: soul songs | Leave a comment »
Solving the problem
Behind closed doors
In big dark rooms
Men in black and grey
Eating drinking Laughing and chatting away
Gather to discuss our problem
The problem of Palestinians!
They talked about:
Democracy, Freedom, Human rights
And a solution, a vision
That will bring peace to the troubled Middle East
We can easily solve this, If only
If only -those terrorist- stop their violence
They concluded
And as for the refugees
That’s no problem, at all
Just give them some money; compensate
And they’ll all be content
Those civilized
Freedom lovers, Peace protectors
Human right defenders, Inventors of ethics
Did they not know
That; A man with a knife
Against his throat
Has the right to push His butcher Away
Did they not know
That A child, Who grew up Far… far away
Deprived of the love, gentle touch
And warm hugs Of her beloved grandma
Given the infinite universe
Can never compensate her!
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You are welcome
You are welcome to have my land
Yes, you can have my land
When… you are able to hear
The weeping olive tree
When pulled down
With the sharp, yellow teeth
Of your ugly bulldozer
Yes, you can have my land
When… you are able to feel
The agonizing pain
Of my hills and mountains… torn apart
When hit by your merciless missile
Yes, you can have my land
When… you are able to see
The blood of my poppies
When fallen to the ground
Crushed under the cold metallic chains
Of your vile tank
Yes, you can have my land
When… you are able to taste
The salty bitter flavor of slavery
Felt by my villages and towns
When under curfew for days on end
Yes, you can have my land
When… you are able to smell
The burning desire in my orchid’s wounded heart
To be united again with her much missed children
Yes, you can have my land
When… you are able to hear
The cries of the wind mourning her little ones
Who used to play… flying away
Their black and white
Red and green kites
Yes, you can have my land
When… you are able to feel
The tight and shallow breathing of my home and garden
When suffocating by your nasty
Nerve and tear gas
Yes, you can have my land
When… you are able to see
The tears of my clouds trickling down their cheeks
When punched by the fist of your apache helicopter
Yes, you can have my land
When… you are able to taste
The sweetness of dignity felt by a stone
When picked up by a little hand of a brave boy
Yes, you can have my land
When… you are able to smell
The perfume of my earth when taking a shower
Getting ready to embrace the body
Of her beloved child
Yes, you can have my land
When… you are able to touch
And heal the deep bleeding wounds of my sky
Stabbed by your f16
Yes, you can have my land
When… you are able to teach
Your heart how to love
Every drop of water
Gushing from below
Or falling from above
Yes, you can have my land
When… you can gently hold
Every grain of sand
And tell her how sorry you are
For causing all the pain she’s gone through
Yes, you are welcome to have my land
When… you are able to hear
The whispering prayer of its angels
Chanting words of love peace and justice
For every human soul
Then…
You are welcome to have my land
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When I was seven Jesus cried
When I was seven
I was living in a beautiful village
North of Jerusalem
Near the heart of Palestine
I used to play where Jesus used to pray
I ran up the hills where he used to walk
Listening through the wind to the echo of his talk
“Oh, children of God, love one another”
A man of Palestine
Gentle, kind, and giving
A true prince of peace
Ever so loving
Up above my head
White fluffy clouds slept all day
On my blue sky’s lap
I used to lie down
Jumping with my soul up in to heaven
Weaving with the clouds
Snow white and teddy bears
I’ll make up stories
Dressed up as a princess
Dancing with the fairies
Flying on the wings of a pure white bird
With a magical brush that no one could see
I painted the world
With colours of the rainbow
I flew wiping tears away of every human face
Putting a big smile right in their place
I spoke every language with no words at all
With all words of love they answered my call
Every drop of water… every grain of sand
Every green leaf felt God’s loving hand
UNTIL
One summer day
My life was turned up-side down
My peaceful world
SUDDENLY .. ran away
Leaving me to drown… shivering all alone
In the grave-yard of town
THE SIX-DAY WAR… EVER SO CRUEL
The army of Zion marched ready to fight
Crushing us with bombs… proud of all their might
Stealing our country was a “ God given right”
Killing.. maiming.. destroying “CHOSEN”, so it’s all right
Bombing peaceful towns all night and day
Killing young children so no longer to play
Tearing clouds apart… scaring them away
Burning innocent lives
Chasing dreams away
Filled with shame and guilt of Hitler’s holocaust
Followers of Christ people of the west
Cheered .. rejoiced ..hurray
To a cheap victory
While Jesus was weeping
Crying out loud
The murder of his children
And the rape of his land
When I was seven
Jesus cried
Ever so hard !
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Thank you Lina
When I visited my friend Najah in Leeds, we were sitting watching the news together with her little girl Lina, who surprised us with her deep wisdom and warm compassion
Six year old Lina
Sitting with her mum
In her world of dreams
Gazing away
Abruptly she says
“Mama
You know those Jews
Who took our land
If suddenly they changed their mind
Decided to give it all back
Even our trees and our food
Then they’d become poor
They needn’t to worry
We will give them some of our food
Share with them every thing we have
Mama
We won’t be bad”
This little Lina… only months ago
Had a soldier’s gun pointing against her head
This little Lina… only weeks ago
Had her uncle’s home by their bulldozers
Razed to the ground
This little Lina… didn’t know that
Only today… some settlers
Protected by guns and soldiers
Invaded her village Silwan near Jerusalem
Forced the inhabitants out of their homes
And occupied them
This little Lina
Proved very wrong all that they say
"The abused will become the abuser"
This little Lina… never lost her soul
This little Lina… no doubt
Is our hope
And our ultimate victory
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Rising above
Soaked in humiliation
Standing in the corner
Of the -security check- cubical
All alone
No mum to hold my hand
Or calm down my fear
No dad to hide my shame
And wipe my tears away
No shoes, no socks, no clothes
Not even underwear
After being stripped by her
The stern face of this woman soldier
Was looking down at me in fury and contempt
She started her interrogation:
Where are you going to?
Palestine, my little shaky voice replied
Where are you going to? louder and firmer
Palestine, swiftly this time
There is no Palestine, do you understand
No more Palestine
Where are you going? shouting with rage
Palestine, assertively
Determined to deny her the pleasure
Of hearing the word she wanted to hear
A refugee, visiting my stolen Palestine
For the first time since the occupation
A little girl of nine
Defiant full of dignity I leave
Holding in my heart
My very own victory
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My life with autism
“Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.” — Maya Angelou
Palestine, Poetry, Truth-Seeking,
Work by Rain Alchemist
A Gentile with a Jewish Heart
gehadsjourney.wordpress.com
Follow the Journey ☩𓀙𓃦☉
commentary on global issues
formerly refugebooks.com
Email to ziegler.bill@gmail.com
Exposing Truth Behind Media Spin
The words, poems, stories and thoughts of award winning writer and journalist, Nic Outterside
Writers For Palestine
قوانين، مذكرات، مقالات المحامي عزت غيث مكتب المحامي عزت نصر غيث : عمان - جبل الحسين - دوار فراس - عمارة قدورة تلفون 0797900678 - 0788850180
The strings of my life’s soulfulness in the beauty of eternity.
“Each generation must discover its mission, fulfill it or betray it, in relative opacity.”
"İlahi Ente Maksudi ve Rızake Matlubi"
Palestine is still the question
An American searching for answers in the Middle East
"There is no compulsion in religion," - Holy Qur'an
The Climate Crises
Generating a fearless and humanising narrative on Palestine!
Palestinians are at the heart of the conflict in the M.E Palestinians uprooted by force of arms.. Yet faced immense difficulties have survived, kept alive their history and culture, passed keys of family homes in occupied Palestine from one generation to the next.
America's entanglement with Israel
Blogging 4 Human Rights & Liberation of Palestine! فلسطين
Searching for churches where His law is Love and His gospel is Peace
FOR RADICAL REALIST FREE-SPEECH REVOLUTION
ΑΛΗΘΩΣ
Exploring our "Inner Evolution"
Writing from and for Palestine
Poetry for Palestine 