Um Fillistina

Olive groves like an undulating jade sea

Orchards of oranges unnamed

Stone latticework like white picket fences

Fellah homes in suburban bliss

Starling and lark – nest, breed, sing

Baladi, Baladi

Expulsion … Eviction … Red-lined Map …

Olive groves like a maelstrom

Fierce waves of shamouti crash

Stone walls leveled

Mud hut wasteland

Starling and lark, homeless, barren, lament

Baladi, Baladi

Um Hazeena

I'm a Palestinian child. I live in Gaza

But that is not really my full definition

It doesn’t say much

So let me start again and explain my dilemma

I am a Palestinian war child living in occupied Gaza

Yes, much better. But it's still missing some detail

I am a paralyzed Palestinian war child living in occupied, besieged Gaza

That doesn’t cover a simple part of the matter!

I am a paralyzed, disfigured, Palestinian war child living in occupied, besieged, oppressed Gaza

Oh Dear, my vocabulary has become too weak. I haven't been to school ever since it happened.

If I only had a dictionary, I see all the other kids carrying one.

They say it has all the words you can think of! At least that's what my neighbor told me

You probably know my neighbor. He's the clean, dressy, smart kid every mother would fall in love with.

He passes by me every morning with a friendly grin on his face

He Lent me his dictionary once to look into

Oh, was i impressed by the number of words in that thick book.

I got so excited flipping page after the other

He looked down on me with both compassion and surprise

He asked, "Haven't you ever seen a dictionary before?"

My face reddened with shame and replied in a soft voice "No, I haven't"

He smiled at me with that sweet pleasant face I was used to seeing every morning

Then he added "Would you like to keep it?"

My eyes widened, and my face glowed with delight

"I'd Love to! Can you help me look for the word (Palestinian) in it?"

I could tell from his features that he was shocked by my request

He answered, "Waseem, I don't believe they have that word in the dictionary."

Now it was my turn for shock to take over my features

"But... But … You mean there is no (Palestinian) in there"?

Somehow, my impression towards that book I had gone through savagely a while ago turned into disgust.

The lobbyist demagogue

Preaching from synagogue

Commands us to kneel with shame at the border

Because he wants all of God’s land

Hoarder

He shouts, spiteful with pride

Forgetting the tears his ancestors cried

As I am driven out like they once were

Like our old Bedouin Mother

Sent to roam deserts with despair

With Ishmael

But god quenched them

With the waters of paradise

And raised them up

And made them a great nation

Rise again,

Oh you Children of Ishmael, you are a great nation.

Life in Palestine

It’s six am in the morning,
I’ve only just seen this world.
The fresh scent of this
land-
My land,
Which I’ve been brought into.
My mother clings on to me,
As it sounds like a stampede going past
‘Mum look! Dads playing with a soldier’-
They take him down with a blast.
My mother weeps and explains to me
my fathers gone
He’s FREE.
As years go past, at least three or four
I wonder about
my Land, I want to know more.
As I grew older I’d ask my mum
‘when will we be
FREE?’
I look around to see
my land,
There’s nothing left, I wonder why people
unknown to me
 have given money to plant these trees.
I stood like a soldier
as  I feel a sudden force coming my way
‘MUM!’
that’s the only word I had a chance to say.
I’m dominated by darkness, I can’t see a thing
but then I open my eyes and hear them sing
I’m not alone in this place there’s people of my own kind
I can see my dad running to me-his words
‘You’re in a better place
You’re FREE’
I view the world below me
only to see  my people die.
‘I’m in a better place now mum
but I promise I did try.’
We all close our eyes to open them and see
we’ve washed away today’s
bloodstream.
 The angels start singing, I look behind me,
‘It’s been a long time, but I’m glad
you’re FREE.’

I wrote this poem today in memory of people killed in the Sabra and Shatila by Lebanese Christian Phalangists and by the Israeli government. This happened in September 16 to 18.1982.

O Sabra and Shatila!   

O Sabra and Shatila, I bear witness to you, for I was alive when your horror transpired, and I testify, record and bring charges against the ensuing silence of the entire world; a silence which chilled us to our very souls.

O Sabra and Shatila, I watched in shock and initial disbelief and went numb as the recorded images of your massacre were shown to the entire world

O Sabra and Shatila, all persons of the world who were humane recoiled at these events and felt your pain in their hearts, your agony in their spirit, the terrible nausea in the pits of their stomachs at the atrocities committed against you and finally, righteous and unbridled anger in their souls.

O Sabra and Shatila, we marched with our Palestinian brothers and sisters against the government that perpetrated these horrors against you and were spat upon, ridiculed and in some cases attacked, but we continued to raise our voices and demand justice and cry out to almighty God in heaven for redress for you and we were saddened, amazed and incredulous when the majority of the world did not echo nor respond to our cries and our outrage.

O Sabra and Shatila, the conscience of the world was terribly wounded on that day and we cannot, should not and will not ever forget your tremendous sacrifice for the ultimate freedom of Palestine and the Palestinian people and indeed, the freedom of all humanity.

‎{ i wrote this while working in Korea, during the Gaza Invasion, soon after my last trip to Palestine}



As the Monks marched and fell in Burma,
and freedom seemed to elude another generation,
As the streets flowed red and saffron in Rangoon
Soldiers shooting, slicing, cutting
We were buying, selling, drinking, fucking

As a Palestinan boy hungrily wandered into the Brigades,
raised on loss, denial, want and dead friends
$500 homes exploded by million dollar bombs
Space age weaponry used on refugees
without an earthen jug of water.
Room in your old village for thousands of white Russians
but not for you.
No return, no escape.
I cursed at my television
and went to work
Teaching the ABCs to businessmen's children in Guess Jeans
In a place of neon and punctual busses
Food aplenty and booze too often....
I'm still hungry and running late.
Hungrier than i ever felt in a Palestinian Camp,
Running late, sometimes on full,
Sometimes on empty
In the absence of the sacred

Monks, Mothers, refugees, survivors,campesinos
Inspiration and lighthouses of the realness,
Unwitting architects of my better self
India, Indo, Khmer, Hondurenos, Rangoon
Palestine, habibi, proud as a lion
Keep marching and i will too
Thru the neon haze,back into the view
Of your $500 home
As the doves fly overhead
Late at night
With your kids on our laps
Drinking tea as the lights of Nazareth flicker in the distance
25 or 25,000 miles away
Depending on your passport

Tomorrow night the sky will fall,
Thousands of shootings stars
Reminding us how small we are
How connected we are
in our vulnerability
and common insignificance
Except to each other
and our dreams.

Tomorrow night, in the meteor shower
I'll picture your faces and send you my heart
Stars burn bright until they fall
So too, must we all
Keep shinin that lighthouse thru the black
Cause all i wanna do is find my way back
I will burn brighter for you....

The Sun will be a Son of the land born now or in the next century

He may be an heir of the land but not born on the land

He will be warm and comforting and will build a nation

Out of many he will make one defying the policy of the many

All his people will embrace his wisdom of direction

He will be firm, bright, gracious, democratic and a born leader

He will lead people out of the bondage of ignorance and despair

He will do away with those who rule through inheritance and life

He will be loved by the old for cherishing culture and heritage

He will be loved by wealth for allowing commerce to flourish

He will be loved by parents for educating all his people for free

He will be loved by children for they will be proud to emulate him

As the first democratically elected leader he will serve two terms

Unlike others relinquishing power will be his greatest glory

People will want his re-election but he will resist all attempts

Living after, he will oversee his work as democracy flourishes

His name will be praised for the inheritance he left his people

When he is laid to rest the sky will open for his entrance

© Copyright, Fadi Zanayed

Written in 1996

I was just below the cloud 

The sound of thunder was ever so loud 

My wings were spread I was actually flying 

My speed was way past soaring

A white dove was leading my way 

We will be there in less than a day

I was excited yet not joyfully 

I embarked on my mission painfully

The dove wanted me to see 

Where I was to be 

But through her intervention 

I was routed in a different direction

She told me she was my greatest option 

Yet not my only solution 

She urged me not to employ the other 

For it would lead to the death of me and my brother

Nearing the end of our trip 

I was perplexed about what came from her lip 

When she said, I cannot go any further 

Don't tell anyone not even a murmur

Buy why I stopped and questioned 

Waiting a while before I was answered 

finally she said, I cannot bear to see what you will see 

For a black hawk is what I will be 

And I replied, What about the other solution 

How can I see and still choose you as my option 

She answered, You will need the threat of the other solution 

To maintain me as your option 

She then gave me directions and off I went 

To the place I was to be sent 

It was not hard to find 

For it has been forever a picture inside my mind 

I went in for the approach 

Not knowing upon what I will encroach 

I was greeted with great hospitality 

Overwhelmed at the degree of their generosity 

I saw their misery, I saw their pain 

What do they do about the rain 

Suddenly it rained from above 

And I knew it was a signal from the dove 

I asked for water to drink 

It had to be fetched for there was no sink 

When they eat and dine 

They always finish the meal with a discussion on Palestine 

I wondered as I looked to the sky 

Why can't God hear the cry 

For the return to our country 

And the restoration of our dignity 

Near the end of another sleepless night 

I awoke to a faint light 

It was still dark in the camp 

For there is no street lamp 

I walked through and through 

Not knowing what to do 

About the guilt within me 

And about the horror that I see 

Then I wondered what if I were here 

And another was there 

What would I want him to do 

As he is living his life through 

And suddenly my image appeared 

It was a scene I feared 

I looked around for the others 

What was the fate of my parents and brothers 

I saw my mother sitting all alone 

Where was my father was he gone 

I walked through the door 

Where was my older brother was he at war 

I knelt to the ground and wept 

Hitting the dirt with a big welt 

I cried out with a loud voice 

There is only one option one choice 

And there I was flying again 

Was this part of the dove's plan 

My flight soon approached the sea 

As the dove reappeared in front of me 

She was silent most of the way 

Not wondering about what I had to say 

My wings were stretched ever so wide 

Like the wings of a black hawk from side to side 

She looked back and said with a smile 

Ahead of us is many a mile 

You still have either option 

Buy only one solution

© Copyright, Fadi Zanayed

Whistle in the night

Somber moment without light

I welcome the song of the bird

For days the only sound I’ve heard

The song of freedom chirping in the air

Ironically I am a prisoner of despair

Fly bird fly in support of those who care for you

Go and fight for what we are due

Prosper mentally in our cause

Become a leader who knows when to pause

Build conviction, honor and determination

Build democracy into a nation

Fly bird fly letting your wings stretch across the sky

Encompass within your wings all within our pie

The whole without all its sum is but a part

Be a leader who is brave and smart

Build a consensus while respecting the call

The call to honor and respect for us all

My captors have brought supper for me to eat

Stay and feast before the duty you have to meet

Whistle in the night

Then I’ll know your path is right

Remember me as I linger in jail

Rescue me before I grow old and frail

I will be with you night and day

I am your conscience in the words you say

Bless the children who throw the stone

It is in their eyes that we see what we own

Condemn the hypocrisy of those who occupy

They see not the history of why they cry

Be good, self-righteous and fair

People will listen over the air

Neither harm nor be harmed in the course you take

Rather set your mark and plant your stake

For here is the line you must draw

While respecting international law

The world will then see us within our right

Using civil disobedience not our might

Fly bird fly letting your energy soar

Free me to Palestine once more

            Fadi Zanayed

(© Copyright, Fadi Zanayed.  Publication or distribution of this material is allowed provided its content is not altered and the source and its author are cited.) 

Hey Soldier Man By: Dawn Scott 2010

Hey soldier man look down at me,
Try not to ignore that I'm only three

Remember the park they made you destroy,
I played there many times with my friend's and my toy's.

You see that school, the one over there,
I was listening to my teacher when she told me to care.

So I promise not to be mad at you,
It's your job that makes you do what you do.

Maybe you have children and Maybe they are three,
Maybe they look real similar to me.

I hope you never have to do it again,
And I hope maybe someday we can be friend's.

Soldier I know you can understand,
What it's like for a kid to live in these lands.

I need a home with shelter and love,
Both parents to raise me and God up above.

Your welcome to visit and your family too,
But, why not go home and see how we do.

In this world there's no such thing as justice and peace

If there is then explain the blood pouring in the Palestinian streets

America went to Iraq to restore the peace

But really it's to have that government at their feet

Psychological warfare, Super Powers against the poor

They already have everything but still want more

Israel destroying people's live's deep within Gaza

Claiming to fight terrorists but it's the land that they're after

Holding guns to children, raping women everywhere

Sanctity of human life doesn't matter not even the breadth of a hair

To these callous and cold hearted people

And now it looks like they want to make Iran their sequel

Open your eyes and you'll be surprised to see

For every US soldiers equals 1000 civilian causality

What made their life more valuable than others?

Take it all the way to Adam, we're all sisters and brothers

But the evil in our hearts made us change our ways

From maintaining the right path to dangerously ashtray

I pray for peace in this life and on this Earth

But peace is something on this planet that'll never be heard

She just stood there hands bare

 Heart swollen in despair

My gracious lady Is this fair?

Noor emitting from her brown hijab

Her smile... warmer Than the first ray upon the earth

Eyes cast upon shade seekers

Ever willing to share the tales of those beneath

 She swings a greedy ear to the stories of Al-Aqsa

Ya, Umi her roots Are ever deep

 Her love, ever strong

My gracious lady Is this fair?

Not an atom can devour

Nor a bullet can destroy

 For the stories of Al-Aqsa Travel with the whispering wind

 To my gracious ladies of palestine.