Three Poems: Gaza CPDS Poetry #1

The Center for Political and Development Studies (CPDS) organised a contest a year ago on Prisoners and Nakba and recieved these submissions. [….] They are sent to Gaza.scoop.ps exclusively.

Yousef Aljamal, CPDS.
Gaza

Poems:

Hana Issa

I Remain

When I was a kid, I wanted to be the wind.
I thought what was this beautiful being that could so strongly be felt,
but never seen.
She traveled countries, knew nothing of borders, blockades, visas.
She saw all the wonders of the world,
Carried smiling faces, cries of newborn babies, joy, happiness, childish giggles and jokes. She attended everyone's weddings and tasted every pie on every counter top.
She delivered the kisses of loved ones and carried the wishful dreams of all.

But today she mourns- she carries screams of horror.
She yells in my ears and awakens every earthly being dead or alive.
She has called upon the sun to dim her rays and the clouds to join her in mourning.
She beckons the leaves, the grass and every organism in existence to shout
and they reply.
The people run inside,
Shut their windows,
They cannot understand why the earth is yelling- why she is crying.
It is just too loud to handle.
Too real to fathom.
But even inside, the wind pounds on their doors and shatters their windows.

She Yells, , (I am strong, steadfast.)
,. (I am holding up like an iron machine.)
. (I will remain until you awaken)
( I remain)

As she continues to voice her fury upon the coma state of the world, a putrid smell of blood and tears rips through your nasal passages.
While the world paces indoors in fear and confusion, I join my friend the wind outside, dressed in black and with nothing more than a kaffiya made of honor and anger to keep me warm.
Despite the ear piercing screams of the earth,
I sit and stay,
Because today she is the only one who understands.

Janna Johanna Amnelin

My Sweet Murder

As salamu aleykum
Im an Janna from Finland and giving you my poem

I wish I could accept this fact
that this war is not an act
It is a real slaughter
to kill an innocent daughter
to attack to closed land
and the world don't give a hand
it is a crime of worse kind
and will be remebered beyond our time
the heroes of this case
are not who try to erase
the suffering people of palestine
and try to make their land to pine
I ask you to think twice
before you judge this rise
because the day will come
when the criminals will be mome
and that day will be our victory
I hope because of you and me

Malak Nofal

The Olive Branch

I can smell the smell of the olive tree
Yes, I can
When I was small my grandmother used to sing me songs from the
Palestinian's folk
Palestine was a song for me
I learnt the meaning of being palestinian through my late grandmother
“Palestine is an olive branch,” she said.
She was crying and singing
She cannot forget what happened
They were everywhere
They bought lands
They prepare for a war secretly
They looked like tourists
But they were not
They were thieves and criminals
No one can deny the faculty of Palestine
But why did you come?
Maybe it is a stupid question
You have no home
So you want to revenge
But is your logic accepts killing people no matter their age
Palestine is a bleeding heart ……………… White flower mixed with red
…………………………………………………………………………………………….
Can we forget the 15 May 1948?
Can we?
They stole the air we breathe
They desecrated the olive branch
The mosques and churches were crying
The holy land was lost
The holy land was desecrated by bunch of gangs
The babies were crying for help
But the whole world were deaf as if it was in another planet
Yes, My grandmother I will never forget the olive branch
I will never forget the dark blood that was spreading in the streets
like a running river
I will never forget the little village that you were born in
……………………………………………………………………………
Unfortunately, it is the 63 anniversary for our loss
My grandmother, I am sorry, for not liberating Palestine till now
But I promise you , we will sooner or later

ENDS

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