Nothing is Real
by by Lina Al-Sharif | |
Colorless are the rhymes
as they’re deafened by dust
Voiceless are the voices
as bodies covered with blood More...
Submitted by: Refaat Alareer on Feb 19, 10 | 8:18 pm

Tell Me
by Merna Ann Hecht | | January 2007
written after viewing the American Friends Service Committee's Traveling Exhibit, "Eyes Wide Open;" part of the exhibit displayed a small line up of empty shoes once worn by Iraqi civilians, "collateral damage," from the war)

Tell me about a pair of turquoise espadrilles
how they enclosed small, sun-brown feet
of a little girl who walked
through the Baghdad market
holding her uncle's hand. More...
Submitted by: Mona Baker on Jan 28, 07 | 3:08 pm

Masters of War
by Bob Dylan | Bob Dylan Site | 1963
Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build the big bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly More...
Submitted by: Hanan Rihan on Aug 24, 06 | 1:45 am

Film Review: Rachel Corrie-An American Conscience
by ? | Electronic Intifada | October 11, 2005
When our daughter Rachel Corrie was killed by an Israeli bulldozer in the Gaza strip on March 16 2003, an immediate impulse was to get her words out to the world. She had been working in Rafah with a nonviolent resistance organisation, the International Solidarity Movement, trying to stop the demolition of Palestinian homes and wells. Her emails home had had a powerful impact on our family, making us think about the situation in the Middle East in ways we had never done before. Without a direct connection to Israel and Palestine, we had not understood the devastating nature of the Palestinians' situation. Coming from the US, our allegiance and empathy had always been with the people of Israel. More...
Submitted by: LDavidson on Oct 11, 05 | 8:59 pm

by Mike Odatella | efreePalestine | 29/12/2004

Why do you build walls?
Do you build these walls so that no one can see?
No witnesses to mourn for the fallen tree?
The olive, fig, and the almond?
They were here long before you came to be More...
Submitted by: nachoua on Dec 30, 04 | 5:35 pm

by Roula B. | |
The children ask me
Where am I from
Or where was I born.
From where comes my curious tongue
They want to know
Where is my father?
My mother?
Do I have sisters or brothers?
"Are you Spanish?" ..a most common one More...
Submitted by: nachoua on Dec 21, 04 | 12:24 am

'That weasel word'
by Omayma Abdel-Latif | Al-Ahram Weekly | 4-10 April 2002
As an increasing number of intellectuals speak out against the Israeli onslaught in Palestine, very few have broken the conspiracy of silence in Britain. In Oxford, Omayma Abdel-Latif meets the Irish poet Tom Paulin

We are fed this inert
This lying phrase
Like comfort food
As another little Palestinian boy
In trainers jeans and a white teeshirt
Is gunned down by the Zionist SS
Whose initials we should
-- but we don't -- dumb goys
Clock in that weasel word
-- Tom Paulin, "Killed in the Crossfire," The Observer, (18.02.01)
Submitted by: Mona Baker on Nov 21, 04 | 7:04 pm

What She Said
by Lisa Suhair Majaj | | Finalist, 2004 War Poetry Contest
"They don't have snow days in Palestine, they have military invasion days." (International Solidarity Movement activists, describing Palestinian children's lives under Israeli military occupation.)

She said, go play outside,
but don't throw balls near the soldiers.
When a jeep goes past
keep your eyes on the ground.
And don't pick up stones,
not even for hopscotch. She said,
don't bother the neighbors;
their son was arrested last night.
Hang the laundry, make the beds,
scrub that graffiti off the walls
before the soldiers see it. She said,
there's no money; if your shoes
are too tight, cut the toes off.
This is what we have to eat;
we won't eat again until tomorrow. More...
Submitted by: Mona Baker on Nov 18, 04 | 8:55 am

To The Father in Fallujah Who Buried His Son in His Garden
by Nesreen Melek | Axis Of Logic |

Lift your warm son's body and scream as you haven't screamed before and ask them what has your son done to them? More...
Submitted by: nachoua on Nov 16, 04 | 8:46 pm

Rivers of Blood
by Blagovesta Doncheva | Al-Jazeerah.Info | “?”
In far away
children are dying,
holding hands
with mothers
and sisters,
with brothers
and fathers… More...
Submitted by: nachoua on Nov 15, 04 | 11:40 pm

I am Fallujeh
by Jenny Campbell | | 12/11/2004
I am Fallujah.

I am Fallujah.
Once before I endured the colonial arrogance of another nation upon my soil. More...
Submitted by: nachoua on Nov 13, 04 | 4:23 pm

This night in Fallujah: Lailat Al Qadr in Ramadan
by Sam Hamod | efreePalestine | 6/11/2004
Tonight, in Fallujah
We wait
For the known
For the follow-up
To the fighter planes
To the rockets
To the long days of shelling
To the depleted uranium killing us slowly, More...
Submitted by: nachoua on Nov 13, 04 | 2:23 am

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