Poems from our Poetry Evening
We had such a wonderful evening last Tuesday and wanted to share the poems and words from the night.
Poems featured;
If I Must Die By Refaat Al-Areer
He is Quiet and So am I by Mahmoud Darwish
Not Just Passing By Heba Abu Nada
What is Home? By Mosab Abu Toah
How Can I? by Nahida Yassin
The Bride – Palestine by Jeff Bee
There are No Olive Trees Left in Gaza by Jeff Bee
Why? By Pete Goley
I Remember Lema and Nour by Nahida Yassin
No Explosions By Naomi Shihab Nye
Collection of Poems and Music by Paul Rowlands
Palestine by Mahmoud Darwish
If I Must Die By Refaat Al-Areer
“If I must die, you must live to tell my story
to sell my things to buy a piece of cloth and some strings,
(make it white with a long tail)
so that a child, somewhere in Gaza
while looking heaven in the eye
awaiting his dad who left in a blaze-
and bid no one farewell not even to his flesh not even to himself-
sees the kite, my kite you made,
flying up above
and thinks for a moment an angel is there bringing back love
If I must die let it bring hope
let it be a tale”
He is Quiet and So am I by Mahmoud Darwish
“He is quiet and so am I
He sips tea with lemon, while I drink coffee.
That’s the difference between us.
Like me, he wears a wide, striped shirt,
and like him, I read the evening paper.
He doesn’t see my secret glance.
I don’t see his secret glance.
He’s quiet and so am I.
He asks the waiter something.
I ask the waiter something...
A black cat walks between us.
I feel the midnight of its fur
He is quiet and so am I.
and he feels the midnight of its fur...
I don’t say to him: The sky today
is clear and blue.
He doesn’t say to me: The sky today is clear.
He’s watched and the one watching
and I’m watched and the one watching.
I move my left foot.
He moves his right foot.
I hum the melody of a song
and he hums the melody of a similar song.
I wonder: Is he the mirror in which I see myself?
And turn to look in his eyes...but I don’t see him.
I hurry from the café.
I think: Maybe he’s a killer...
or maybe a passerby who thinks
I am a killer.
He’s afraid...and so am I.”
Not Just Passing By Heba Abu Nada
“Yesterday, a star said
to the little light in my heart,
We are not just transients
passing.
Do not die. Beneath this glow
some wanderers go on
walking.
You were first created out of love,
so carry nothing but love
to those who are trembling.
One day, all gardens sprouted
from our names, from what remained
of hearts yearning.
And since it came of age, this ancient language
has taught us how to heal others
with our longing,
how to be a heavenly scent
to relax their tightening lungs: a welcome sigh,
a gasp of oxygen.
Softly, we pass over wounds,
like purposeful gauze, a hint of relief,
an aspirin.
O little light in me, don’t die,
even if all the galaxies of the world
close in.
O little light in me, say:
Enter my heart in peace.
All of you, come in!”
What is Home? By Mosab Abu Toah
“What is home:
it is the shade of trees on my way to school
before they were uprooted.
It is my grandparents’ black-and-white wedding
photo before the walls crumbled.
It is my uncle’s prayer rug, where dozens of ants
slept on wintry nights, before it was looted and
put in a museum.
It is the oven my mother used to bake bread and
roast chicken before a bomb reduced our house
to ashes.
It is the café where I watched football matches
and played—
My child stops me: Can a four-letter word hold
all of these?”
How Can I? by Nahida Yassin
“Look at me
I would love to write poetry about love,
Paint rainbows and butterflies,
Roll in a meadow
Enchanted by rosebud scent
Run down the hills with open arms
Embrace the Earth
Inhale the sky
I would love to dance for love;
Twirl with jubilant nightingales
Swept off my feet
Besotted, entranced
As I sing my lullaby
I would love to dream of love, stretch my wings
Taste the clouds, touch infinity as I fly
Watch prophets pray
Hear angels sing
Bathe in light, a Heavenly delight
Roam the cosmos before I die
I would love to sing for love
Fling open the gates of my soul
Invite the world in
Tuck it all under my wings
Rock back and forth
Caress its wounds
Whisper “I love you”
Watch it heal before my eyes
I would love to close my eyes and see children smiling
Tell them stories of lily-like fairies in far-away lands
No guns pointing at their heads
No bullets shrieking.... no missiles exploding
No blood, no burns, no broken limbs,
no prison bars, no tears, no sighs
I would love to embrace a baby,
Hold her safe, sway her gently in my arms
Stroke her face in tender love, astounding wonder
Teach her sweet words, mama, baba, habibi Allah
Look into her eyes in dazzling awe and whisper
My amazing grace,
You are my hope, you are my love, you are my joy
You are my rainbow, you are my lilac and my amber
But
How can I?
There is a dagger in my heart
I am hurting
Hurting
I bleed,
I cringe
I cry
HUMANITY,
WHERE ARE YOU?
I am being slaughtered
Under your watchful eyes
I am cold... cold.... cold
I cringe
I cry
Humanity,
where are you?
Why do you turn your face away?
Why do you keep looking the other way?
I am here
Languishing
In Gaza’s alleyways
Humanity, where are you?
Look at me
See me
I am here
Sighing
In Gaza’s alleyways
I cringe
I cry
Humanity,
Enough turning the other way
Turning a deaf ear
Turning a blind eye
While I, and oh ... my poor children
Die”
The Bride – Palestine by Jeff Bee
“For the girls with almond eyes
My love for you knows no bounds
You are my Nannas, my history,
My Jaddas had almond eyes too.
You are my mothers, life’s givers,
Bearers of us all,
The peace from almond eyes.
You are my sisters, my sibling
With shared wings we fly,
My blood ties with almond eyes.
You are my wife, my half
My sharer, the best of my life,
My sanctity with almond eyes.
You are my daughters, my days,
The souls of my soul,
My blessings with almond eyes.
All my hopes and prayers,
Sacred and true,
My love for you knows no bounds,
My heart breaks for you,
As you weep from almond eyes.”
There are No Olive Trees Left in Gaza by Jeff Bee
“there are no more olive trees in Gaza
there they stood and for generations,
our mothers’ mothers’ mothers tended them,
implanted in all our histories,
tied to this holy land where they belong.
signposts of living permanence,
memories, sacred, secure and strong.
then men with guns and bulldozers came
claimed a god was on their side,
ripped them from the ground,
as if their god grew different trees,
ours were not fit to survive.
no fruit remains to feed the doves,
nor branches left to offer,
they replaced the olives
with concrete walls, telephone masts,
their hatred and barbed wire”
Why? By Pete Goley
“There never was a good war or a bad peace” (Benjamin Franklin 1783)
Why do we see white body bags of all different sizes on floors or being carried like rolls of carpet by
familes?
Why do we see an Israeli coffin with a flag being carried by six people?
Why do news reports say Hamas is a terrorist group not supported by USA, parts of EU and UK?
Why do news reports not say that some Israelis are legal terrorist groups supported by USA, parts of EU
and UK?
Why do we not hear the chants of “Hey Netanyahu how many babies, children, women have you
murdered today?
Why have Palestinians lost 70% of their olive yield?
Why has the USA got a tech company in Jerusalem called Mobileye which produces electronic
components for automatic cars?
Why can’t we have peace talks like we had in Northern Ireland, which after some time solved most of the
problems?
Life is just like a bowl of cherries (Lee Brown and Ray Henderson)
Why can’t the skin be the people of the world
Keeping everything together and then they can sow the seeds for peace?”
I Remember Lema and Nour by Nahida Yassin
“My sister is Nour, she is five,”
“Her name means Light”
“I took her out to buy some sweets”
“They bombed us, alhamdulillah”
“I was injured with shrapnel, alhamdulillah”
“My sister is a martyr, alhamdulillah”
“My sister is a bird in Heaven, alhamdulillah”
Lema... Your few words shuttered my being
The deluge of your silence uprooted me
The calmness of your screams tormented my heart
The twinkle in your eyes, despite your wounds, haunted me
Lema, a melody of a Canary
A heart pure, delightful
Astounding wonder
From God, a sign
Lema, a mystic Psalm
Glorious, sublime
Stars above, pounded in dismay
The echo of your pain
Heavens knelt down, sobbing
The aura of your mighty grace
Words diminished, forgot their meanings,
Before your enchanting poise
Lema, sweetheart
Lema, a face of an angel from paradise
Lema, a scented rose, inspiring awe
Allow me to lay my head
Beneath the shadow of your pain
Kiss the ground,
Blessed with the touch of your toes
Lema, sweetheart, don’t cry
Your beloved is now free
She was Nour . . . Now she is Light
Shimmering in the heart of a green bird
His nest, a lantern of supernova light
Engulfed in joy, flying around
The Throne of the Most Loving, Most Kind
Singing rainbows and butterflies
Leaping up and diving down
Meadows as far as the eyes can see
Abode eternal, tranquil serene
Angels sing her lullabies
Peace be upon you
Peace upon your beautiful soul
Peace and bliss forevermore
At Heaven’s gate she often waits
Those she loved and much adored”
No Explosions By Naomi Shihab Nye
“To enjoy
fireworks
you would have
to have lived
a different kind
of life”
WHY DO I CRY ? by Paul Rowlands
“Why do I cry ?
You are you and I am I.
I don’t know you……really.
I see you, as I scroll,
I see you on tv,
but, you are you and I am me,
worlds apart, so hard to see,
tell me, why do I cry ?
It’s because of love.
I catch your tears.
I hold them in my heart,
because I love you,
that’s all it can be,
because even though
you are you
and I am me,
we’re the same, you and I
we are
we. ”
O LITTLE TOWN by Paul Rowlands
“O little town of Bethlehem
your beauty hides unrest,
expertly shown in Banksy’s painting,
of a dove in a bullet proof vest. ”
Hair by Paul Rowlands
“To be brushed and cared for, with bobbles and ribbons,
falling gently around her face,
of beauty, part hidden.
To be blown in the wind
one day caressed by a lover,
to be kept in a trinket,
from when a baby, forever,
Not in the rubble,
with thousands of others,
buried in the dust,
by immoral aggressors.
No more to be braided
or turn to grey, that’s for sure,
heinously described as the collateral of war,
but, that is what is happening,
to a whole generation
of Palestinian children,
without explanation,
who pay the ultimate price,
for being who they are
and being there,
and now remembered in this photo,
in the simplicity of
hair. ”
TAKE MY HAND by Paul Rowlands
“Take my hand and lead me to where the olive trees grew,
where the soil of ages gave life,
until it was taken away.
Take my hand and lead me to where
children laughed and played
where lifelong friendships were made,
until they were taken away.
Take my hand and lead me to where
we gathered in prayer
and turned our eyes to heaven
praising God, through our tears
until it too, was taken away.
Take my hand and lead me to where the white doves flew across azure skies,
singing their songs of peace,
until they were taken away.
Take my hand and lead me to to where my heart lies broken and bleeding,
amidst the rubble of death and dreams,
but love remains,
as the key to bring us home
and that can NEVER be taken away. ”
AND GAZA SHEDS A TEAR by Paul Rowlands
“They won’t open the gates, for the aid that is there,
for the people of Gaza, how can they not care ?
as the people are bleeding, pleading and crying,
starving, bewildered, under the rubble, dying,
bombs, missiles, bullets, destruction at all cost,
drones, explosions and tanks,
no matter lives lost,
as Gaza sheds a tear.
Some just look and then turn away, or scroll past the suffering,
I’ve had enough for today,
Oh, how long will it be, until all will be free?
How long will it be
until all will be free ?
as Gaza sheds a tear.
We modern day prophets speak with one voice.
We rise in our millions, we tell of a choice.
We bring gifts in ourselves and gifts in our words,
slowly, but surely, our message is heard.
no more humiliation, occupation or fear,
our story universal, we’re making it clear,
because written on banners and flags flying higher,
is the creed of humanity, peace, justice, CEASEFIRE,
as Gaza sheds a tear.
And then …… a woman’s voice is heard, can you hear her ?
her voice is heard singing a soulful lament,
from the beating heart of her world,
from her Gaza tent,
for the lives of her her loved ones, now taken away,
and from her broken heart,
she begins to pray,
“Please don’t forget us,
keep on protesting, until……”
and we reply, loudly,
“We will, we will”
as Gaza sheds another tear ”
Silence by Paul Rowlands
“Silence
Sometimes, it is all that is left.
Listen to it.
It’s deafening in its intensity.
It’s challenging.
Listen to the silence.
It connects us, in our here and now,
with those for whom silence is:
momentary,
a respite,
a pause,
a blessing.
May our silence unite us
with our sisters and brothers
for whom we seek justice and peace
and who are
in all reality
only a heartbeat away. ”
Palestine by Mahmoud Darwish
“We have on this earth all that makes life worth living:
April’s blushing advances,
the aroma of bread at dawn,
a woman’s haranguing of men,
the poetry of Aeschylus,
loves trembling beginnings,
moss on a stone,
mothers dancing on a flute’s thread
and the invader’s fear of memories
We have on this earth all that makes life worth living:
the September’s rustling ends,
a woman keeping her apricots ripe after forty,
the hour of sunlight in prison,
clouds reflecting swarms of insects,
the applause of a people for those who face their end
with a smile,
and a tyrant’s fear of songs.
We have on this earth all that makes life worth living
Lady Earth, mother of all beginnings and endings,
She was called Palestine
and she is still called Palestine.
My Lady, because you are my Lady, I deserve life.”
