THE STRANGERS
4 poems for Palestine
The Strangers – my latest handmade poetry book commission has arrived in its new home. This tiny collection contains 4 poems for Palestine, based on the vision of my friend and fellow poet Charles Thomas, and written in honor of my friends Reem Zidiah and Salah Ostaz.
Reem and Salah are two young Palestinians enduring the violence of empire in their homeland. As the genocide in Gaza has escalated over the past 2 years, both have lost their homes, found themselves repeatedly displaced in the ongoing conflict, faced food insecurity & starvation, and watched their friends & family members be killed by the Israeli occupation.
Reem (@reemzidiah) is an activist who recently earned her Master’s degree, using her skills in English literature & translation to advocate for young women & girls. Since losing her home, she has been taking care of her family of 8, including her parents and young siblings. —> Click here to learn more about Reem and donate to her fundraising campaign.
Salah (@salah_ostaz) is a dedicated student who dreamed of becoming a technology teacher before his university was destroyed. Since then, he has been keeping up with his studies online as much as possible and working as a volunteer journalist to document the genocide. —> Click here to learn more about Salah and donate to his fundraising campaign.
Donations from friends and online followers are keeping Reem & Salah and their families alive, allowing them to buy food and other essentials as prices skyrocket and humanitarian aid is blocked from entering Gaza. Please give what you can at this critical time.
THE STRANGERS
a story made of 4 poems for Palestine – created by the dithyrambler – inspired by the vision of Charles Thomas – in honor of Reem Zidiah and Salah Ostaz – with hope for all humans besieged by empire; with longing for liberation – may we seek justice – may we find peace
NONE OF US ARE FREE UNTIL ALL OF US ARE FREE! FREE PALESTINE! FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA!
~Horse & Lion Creative Co.
𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘
1. THE STRANGER
he dreamt of becoming a teacher;
i dreamt of him as the shopkeeper.
i lost count of all the times
i saw him in my sleep,
somehow came to believe
it was waking life
where we crossed lines –
loved each other in a way
impossible to explain –
he: a stranger to me, meant to be
meandering unsuspectingly
along the beach –
bullets flying indiscriminately –
disrupting the reverie –
and me: made in the image
of the absurd, the author
trying desperately
to re-write reality
yet unable to remove myself
from the colonial catastrophe
in which he
was a target.
together i guess we were
imprisoned in a nightmare
where
the horrors he faced
haunted me because
i could see
the mirror
placed so perfectly
and the only way to reach
him was through my meagre
offering of digital currency –
and he thanked me
for every penny
though we both knew that
no amount of money
could stop the slaughter.
i willed him – to live
as if my desire
could make any difference
as if i were worthy
to hold any image of him
within my mind –
for he
was faith, prayer,
peace
personified.
⚘
2. FOR BREAD, THE BODY
i see their faces everywhere
their sacred names became a prayer
reem & salah, always there
written in the air
my dear, my hope, these words i wrote
into poems, every note –
i swam the seas, became the boat
to meet them at the coast
join hands and sing, command the king
corrupted by the rival ring
to cede the crown in reckoning
for every thorny thing –
when empire strikes to kill the christ
the enemy – revealed in light –
inspires new and holy sight
to face the final fight –
we’ve all arrived in palestine –
we’re all complicit in the crime –
you make a buck, they take a dime
and bomb the boys in line –
for bread, the body dies –
⚘
3. AS ABOVE, SO BELOW
they said the land was empty
just waiting to be claimed
by its holy owners where
the son of god was slain.
when they arrived as militants
intent on sacrifice –
not of goats or lambs or doves
but brothers of the light –
they fought as if they had forgot
the meaning of belief
for faith in god was not enough
to bring them to their knees.
thou shalt not kill the law had said,
love thy neighbor well
lest one day you find your hate
has turned the earth to hell!
remember when you were the slaves
held and hit by kings
who thought themselves invincible
above the birds with wings
that carried them beyond the world
to face the fiery sun –
a mirror that reflected them –
the conference – as the one –
for no one reigns above the law
under which we share
our hope and our humanity
within collective care.
all of us are chosen!
no single man or race
may lie to lift himself above
the birds that saw the face
composed of a composite:
a summary of we,
of every living, seeing thing,
of root, of branch, of tree –
⚘
4. UNRAVELING
i prayed for a softer love,
one that glowed
greener
held the emerald world
within oceans of light –
reflected – refracted –
bathing every being
in the beauty
of the sky.
*
again i dreamt of a shopkeeper –
a young man with a thin face
who survived the war.
he sold me a robe, red
and gold, and two sizes
too big – though his presence
didn’t make any sense
because
as far as i could tell there
was no way for him
to get here, to get out
of the death trap that
had been set for him and yet
somehow he did.
*
she spoke of love letters –
cursive in the clouds
carved out like castles
made to house the mystery,
interpret the memory
as shifting shapes of thirteen
ever-changing moons
speak for gravity –
keep track of the clock and
a close watch
upon the rising
of the tide.
*
he has appeared a few
times before, but
in other forms.
i can’t recall them all;
however, in one way
or another, he
has always been a guide.
*
my purpose is to witness
through the portal
of the monolith
and eventually conclude
that the only way to see
the truth is to look behind
your own eyes and view
the stars –
piercing pinholes – from afar –
in the shrinking shroud,
unraveling
the dark.
⚘
