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TRIVIAL
BY ALICYA MAMO

In Palestine no kites fly high

Instead the child has to watch bullets shooting by

All she can see are horrific sights

No way of being concealed 

From her juvenile mind 

So sweet and so clean


Conflict throughout history

Over a tiny strip of land

Fighting for the holy place

Which both sides want to be there own

Suffering of the people 

Who have no place to call home


You want peace?

Violence is war


Does she understand

Why this devastation?

And why she has been given no right

To have her own nation?

Does she know why they are oppressing her

And the innocent people

Why they are targeted 

Bombed for no reason


There is no way to co-operate

Too many differences

So hard to negotiate

So many more similarities

So hard to be seen


The little Palestinian Girl

Trapped within a war-zone

No way of getting out

No way of being free

Or Independent

Always remembering her childhood days

The complete opposite

Of how they should be remembered


She encounters the nightmares 

That will forever be with her

The dreadful images will never be lost

But her loved ones will

No time for more negotiations

Justice is what they need

To be free

And to be their own nation


While she sleeps the walls cave in

From the enemy crashing down her home

For them it is not a child’s home 

But another way of seeking revenge

Hurting the enemy

Proving a point?


Now she lies within the ground

No family left to remember her

Or pray for her

All for the sake of greediness

Hatred and anger


Everyone deserves the best chance at life

But unfortunately for some

Life isn’t fair


In Palestine

No kites fly high

Just bullets shoot by


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THE COAST MARTYRS
BY ABU MO'ATH

I meet a little Palestinian girl

Handkerchief around her hair

Her eyes shining like mother of pearl

It seems to me she’s full of fear

Running free under the open sky

Crying amongst the dunes of sand

Her bare feet cracked, lips are dry

This is my home, my beloved land

“Father, Mother!” I hear her cry

“Brother, Sister, where are you all?”

“Are you alive or did you die?”

“Without you near me I’ll surely fall”

Her words surround me like an eerie echo

Her family’s lost. Where did they go?

 

Abu Mo’ath

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FOR PALESTINE
BY HALIMAH ALI


 I spit the truth, I spit from the heart

Let's talk about Palestine, I don't know where to start
You see, there's a reason as to why I wear that scarf around my neck
I'm not Palestinian but I'm still a Palestine rep.

I watch where I step, I watch where I spend
Deep in my heart I want the terror to end
We need to start the boycott on Israel now, not tomorrow!
Let me ask you, do you even feel any sorrow?

Altogether, we're spending millions
On these companies that are killing our fellow brothers and sisters.
They're taking out bucks and mis-using it
Like Starbucks, they're completely losing it

And don't say I never told ya
About that kid that got shot by that 'so called' Israeli solider.
His life is over
So think you are drinking his blood the next time you drink Coca Cola.

If you truly care about Palestine then maybe
You shouldn't be putting Huggies Nappies on your baby.
It doesn't matter whether you're a mother or father
Just think about all the children dying in Gaza

I know it's hard but it has got to stop
I know all the Palestinians are going to be on top
But look at all these lives that are being lost
And we all know it's coming at a cost

When we take money out of our wallets we must remember
Not to spend on Israeli companies like Marks a d Spencer
Hugo Boss, Kleenex, Nestlé or Calvin Klein
Timberland, AOL, they're all killing Palestine!

It's like we're donating bullets instead of money
This has all got to stop, I ain't even being funny
All these Israelis are taking Palestine down
Sitting in McDonalds, we're worse than Ronald the  Clown

All these companies, their businesses are booming
We gotta start the boycott and watch what we're consuming
Wile over there, you see the REAL soldiers fighting for their lives
All this is happening in Palestine, West Bank...

This is a reminder for everyone to open up their eyes, see the killings of every daughter and every son
This is not just a reminder for Muslims; it's a reminder for everyone!
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I AM PALESTINE
BY JAMIE HAMIDEH

I am Palestine

Home to many

muslims and christians

around the world

I live, I have survived

Everyday, I endure

 

I am Historic Palestine

I have a right to live

I have not expelled

but have been expelled

tormented and oppressed,

tortured and tyrannized

 

I am Palestine

I'm not about power

but I am about freedom

Such when all three

would worship in peace

what a wonderful thing

 

I am Glorious Palestine

I am brave

I've withstanded crimes,

promesses and lies

But I will always have faith

May God help me prevail

 

 

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BLINDNESS
BY GEORGE FISH

Asiya is a schoolgirl.

She is also now blind.

An Israeli bomb

fired on Gaza

hit her schoolyard

and flying shrapnel

struck both her eyes.

But now unable to see,

she still has vision.

“I want my

Palestinian people

to be free,” Asiya says.

“I want us to be able

to live in our land

safe from bombs

and terror.

I want all peoples

to live in peace.

I do not hate the

Israelis personally,

but I hate

what the Israelis

have done to me,

what they have done

to my people.”

Far away from

 Asiya’s school,

Israeli generals

pore over maps,

view aerial photographs,

study charts

and logistics lists;

they look at the

photos of the

demolished buildings

and the piles of corpses,

but do not see

what were once

living human beings

who reared children,

cared for neighbors,

tried to scrounge

enough to eat.

All these generals have

perfect sight;

they see clearly,

yet have no vision.

They are all

more blind than Asiya.

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HOME SICK
BY HAMZEH IBRAHIM
In pursuit of my true home, the green earth I roam.
The dirt that lies beneath my feet doesn’t feel like home.
I roam, I roam for a better path, as I wander the strange and unfamiliar.
From the sorrow days and lost hope, to days of bliss and singing a prose.
Even when the rains strike the olive trees with thunder and cold,
The dawn sets in colors of tangerines and rose.
 
In pursuit of my true home, our goals are never lost,
The blood that spills at home is the blood that flows through my heart.
The diaspora will continue to thrive, resisting the theatrical colonial show,
Scattered like the stars in the sky with a heavenly glow,
Amid the flying metal the war machine bestows.
 
Through generations, from our grandfathers to our children.
Resisting, educating, pushing and pulling.
As songs and dance, tactics and maneuvers, shift and blend.
From the use of the sword, to more engaging trends.
I will reach my home in Palestine, there will never be an end. 
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THE LONG ENDURING
BY HAMZEH IBRAHIM


Where the shallow rivers cross and meet,
From upon the olive trees, she sits and weeps
Through the hills and plains, the enemy lies intent and discreet,
Let her sleep, sleep away, amongst the reality that sadly sings..
From the scenery that shall not cease, from a future she wants to bring.
Rest your soul, a soul that no bullet can break,
A soul that foreign thoughts cannot overtake
 
Sleep, sleep, for evermore,
She dreams of the setting sun upon Jaffa’s shores,
A sleep that no soldier shall wake,
a deep embrace that no morning can break.
From upon the orange-bearing trees, only her shadow she fears.
Shed a tear… Shed a tear for the world that cannot hear…
 
Through the open skies and the stretched horizons,
In the ever spanning Earth, she roams disinterestedly like the jet-black stallions.
Her land of sorrow, bereft of everything imagined. 
A land stolen from her, a land of her grandfathers. 
Through the memories that have caused her harm,
She’ll remain lost in this world, lost until she throws herself in your arms….
 
 *Dedicated to one Palestinian member of the diaspora by the name of Sabrina Azraq.
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A DOG IN THIS FIGHT
BY VANCE OSTERHOUT

 

I hear this keffiyeh
           came from the last loom in Palestine
where electricity comes and goes
supplies are scarce
and elderly men cry over burned trees
            no more olives to collect
Christian churches and mosques alike are graffitied
       by usurpers
        who every one pretends have legitimate rights
these ancient rhythms stamped out
the world ignores the entire affair
benevolently offering to negotiate
         between the victims of apartheid
          and the invaders who steal their land

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'JUST A WORD'- AKA TERRORIST
BY MHARA COSTELLO

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jRgKH0j3yoE

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FREEDOM
BY TAREQ ALKISSWANI
Freedom What is Freedom?
please tell me what is freedom? 
Freedom is not, when you kill a child...
Freedom what is freedom? 
please tell me what is freedom?
Freedom is not, when you occupy...
Don't open your dictionary and tell me what it means!
Because in your language it means to kill and steal... 
Don't open your dictionary and tell me what it means! 
Freedom is not, when you occupy... 
Don't open your dictionary and tell me what it means! 
Because in your language it means to kill and steal... 
Don't open your dictionary and tell me what it means! 
Because in your language it means to kill and steal... 
Don't you call it freedom, when you attack my mosque... 
Then burn my village, and kill its people all... 
Freedom what is freedom, in your language now a day?
Don't you take my rights of living every day... 
Freedom what is freedom, in your language now a day?
Don't you Kill My parents and take my children away? 
Freedom what is freedom? please tell me what is Freedom? 
Freedom is love, and giving life... 
Freedom is Love and giving life.
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