In Memory of Naji Al Ali

Naji Al Ali was a well known political cartoonist and creator of the famous Hanthala character, Naji Al-Ali was assassinated in London for his criticism of Israeli policy by way of his cartoons. He was on his way to work at a Kuwaiti newspaper at the time. Although nobody has been charged with the crime, the overwhelming opinion is that Fatah was responsible for the murder. Other reports state that the Israeli Mossad was responsible with the assistance of Fatah. He was assassinated August 29, 1987

Bantustans

Locked within this iron cage

These walls stand tall

Separating body from soul

Dwelling in the hands of fate

Religious intolerance and hate

Genocide on the rise

Palestinian cemeteries grow in size

America turns her face, feeds the world lies

As the West remains silent to Gaza's cries..

Unknown, Untold

As I read these books, the stacks pile up

its as if I am looking for something..
I don't know what, something to fill this hunger
Feeling empty, wanting to know more
experience your story, and even hear your glory
Feel that wind, whispering through my ears
A lot of times it brings me to tears
misunderstood by my American peers
Perhaps, Looking for something, to explain my own story
Because this one, for now has no glory....


For its unknown, untold
Wild and crazy
Skin and soul, left in my homeland
Left to boil, my stories on top of on another coil
intertwine, trying to grasp these uncontrollable hands
I only strive to return
I read these books in hopes maybe I will learn.
I only want to practice my right, return to my home.

Love
My Love for you is like a widespread wildfire
Expanding with each step I take
But you will never feel the heat of this love
For you walked away, put out this raging flame
Returning to only once smoked ash
Now you are only one of my past
At one point, I almost thought
This love was ever last

but we are all bound to fall, and sometimes crash....

Hands!


With these hands we hold babies
Run fingers across pages of books
Touch people, Hold other hands
Point, speak in the language of sign
Create art, made from the heart
Guide people in streets
Make signs of peace
with these hands, I write these words

Scars Will Mend

Your Heart is real strong So take my hand, and come along
Break through these obstacles that we have been handed
Our scars remain as if branded
Most read palms to tell ones future
But we read hands to tell the past
Each scar tells a story
whether it be sadness or glory
Our surroundings we shall escape
No longer live in pain and hate
Our sprits high, and soul set free

Let it be you and me.

My Escape

My Trust in you has never risen

Living with you has only felt like prison
But now-a-days I'm on a mission
Refusing to live by your silly condition
Life with you has been inevitable
Never once, were you credible
But now I have found my escape
Never looking back at another sad tape
Hardship and connotation
No more of your lies and manipulation

War

Roads of Pavement, became blood stained memories Of children who never got the chance to live like children Of women carrying babies that never got a chance to breathe
Of a lost people, left with no alternative but to leave
Torn t-shirts and dismantled homes
Chard skin fills the air
This is no game of Truth or Dare
This is life, a struggle, sadness with a lack of a much needed happiness
"We continue to push our faces to the pavement and pray

Help is on its way.. "

The Arab Man

The Arab man

His skin the color of sun warm sand
Sometimes pale like the cold night
His eyes green like the olives that grow from the tree
Sometimes dark like maple
His structure strong, like one of a warrior
His face all nose and eyelashes
His hair thick and stubborn, filled with waves
His heart sensitive, and filled with emotion
Passionate, and caring
Loving and daring

My Mother

Dark brown curls run down her back like intoxicating spirals
Eyes Translucent beautiful, like faded oceans of blue
Sun warm skin, olive smooth
Voice soft and full of love, speak words that mesmerize
Day by day my mother stands by my side
Mornings come to pass, evenings ever last
Pushing her face to the pavement she prays…
Prays for the day that peace will arise
She says in the end their shall be a righteous prize
At night unbearable to hear my mother’s cry
The women who to you, will never lie
And all in the while she still manages to smile
My mother is certainly like no other!

Palestine Will be Returned

Palestine Will be Returned
We have no more blood to shed
Palestine is almost empty, the people are dead
The elimination of our whole race
And America Turns her face
They fail to recognize
This ongoing genocide
The blood red roads
Hope comes and goes
All these lies
Palestinian cemeteries grow with size
You can take our body but not our pride
Because in Allah we confide
One less Palestinian is one more saint
We will continue dwelling in the hands of fate
Everyone will have a lesson learned
And Palestine will soon be returned!!

Genocide

Genocide
The boy on the floor
His heart beats like thunder
All the richest nations in terms of natural resources sacked and plundered
Bullets shoot through the wind like sound travels faster than light
People live in constant freight
Still, governments put up a deadly fight
People praying for the day there souls will be free
like the flying kite..
Standing tall with all bodily might
Children throw stones and dodge bullets’
For they have no home
One more person dead is one more saint
still in this world is this deadly hate
When will the world wake ?
See the genocide
around the world cemeteries grow in size
Today, still asleep to our mothers cry
outlined in red are her eyes
The boy on the ground
his heart no longer beats

drowned in blood are our feet...

Palestine

Palestine


1948, 1969 Both dates far before my time
But I can never forget the history of my Palestine
My want to return to my homeland does not make me Naive
For it was a place I never wanted to leave
I know its conditions, but I also know its people
I know it limits, but I also know its sun
Its beating heat, is like a beating heart...

Lazy Generation

Lazy Generation

Filled with Frustration
We have created a lazy generation
A lack of motivation
Has struck the entire nation
But many still hold patience
People say "time will tell"
well, were running out of time
After all life is short
Wasting time arguing matters, like divorce in court
As animals reach extinction
and oceans turn black
When all is said and done
There’s NO turning back
What happened to the days when kids played Miss Mary Mack
Not copying "images" like Britney and Shack
This generation needs a step back

To realize ..Before it’s too late!

Jerusalem

Jerusalem


Jerusalem is the heart of Palestine
It is the blood that runs through my veins
The light in my eyes
The Strength in my bones
and the beat to my heart

This place is my home
I know the sun there like no other place
I know every groove of every hill there
every person, tree, and rock

and

I shall never leave this land astray
To the shallow people who let it slowly decay
As for now, I am in sure dismay
But
This land, is bound to heal
This life, is very real
So let it be known

Save Jerusalem