Video link: http://youtu.be/aKucPh9xHtM

RAFEEF ZIADAH is a Canadian-Palestinian spoken word artist and activist. Her debut CD Hadeel is dedicated to Palestinian youth, who still fly kites in the face of F16 bombers, who still remember the names if their villages in Palestine and still hear the sound of Hadeel (cooing of doves) over Gaza.

By William A. Cook* | Sabbah Report | www.sabbah.biz

What silent communion this scene holds,
Of a life lived and one yet to unfold;
What forlorn love those encircling arms portend,
That would protect against the evils that descend
From unseen missiles yet to come with unlived years,
Where hopes and dreams dissolve into unforeseen fears
That falls like a funeral pall upon this child,
Who sits so quiet, so pensive, so mild
Beneath those crescent arms as they reach to shield
This innocent lost in this barren field.

What catastrophe is caught in this aged face,
What last years lost in silent disgrace,
What father is now absent from this scene,
What mother abandoned to a fate unseen?

How relive a life lost, what might have been?
How rekindle love in a world of sin?
How undo the infectious toxin of hate?
How understand the true terror of fate?

I share this tent of sorrow and of shame,
The darkness in the soul, the guilt and blame,
A seared image of suffering and pain--
The curse of Cain rises-- once again.

* William A. Cook is a professor of English at the University of La Verne in southern California and author of The Rape Of Palestine: Hope Destroyed, Justice Denied, Tracking Deception: Bush Mid-East Policy and The Chronicles Of Nefaria. He can be reached at: wcook@laverne.edu.

I am seated on rubble and ashes
I don't know if Aya my doll is still in my arms
I still can hear the talks, the whispers and the crying of latest days
And the laughs of other times
I still hear the familiar call for praying, the sounds of the house ...

I hope to see my family and my friends soon
so we can run and laugh as we used to do,
each day a new world...

Now it is all rubble and ashes
and me half seated, half buried in it
My name is Samar, I was six
I lived in innocence
I died in Gaza.

(Written by WDA. - Gaza)

Not Like Us © Lorelei Loveridge/Orderly Bazaar Records & Publishing, 2008.

Raze down those olive trees
Bulldoze those houses, please
Build the wall and damn them all
Raze down those olive trees

Fire on the boys with stones
Send all those bullets home
Lie to the world and deny you killed a schoolgirl
Fire on the boys with stones

Point the finger now
Suicide bombers wreak a living hell
Lock the jails up tight
Breed the next generation’s will to fight

Re-draw the borders
Re-create law and order
Speak not with words
But with might

For they’re the enemy—terrorists, terrorists
For they preach hatred—not like us, not like us
For they’re religious zealots—terrorists, terrorists
They’ll never have this land—not like us, not like us

Raze down those olive trees
Bulldoze those houses, please
Build the wall and damn them all
Raze down those olive trees

For they’re the enemy—terrorists, terrorists
For they preach hatred—not like us, not like us
For they’re religious zealots—terrorists, terrorists
They’ll never have this land—not like us, not like us

Home is Where the Heart Is © Lorelei Loveridge/Orderly Bazaar Records & Publishing, 2008

Yasmin, Yasmin, where's your man
Is he locked in a jail in Jerusalem
A stone's throw away from hope
Tell me, Yasmin, will you go

Home is where the heart is
But your mother is calling you
Home for a day of rest
What good will martyrdom do
What good will martyrdom do

Yasmin, Yasmin, what will he get
Freedom or ten years instead
And if he goes away for long
Pray, tell who will keep you both strong

Home is where the heart is
But your mother is calling you
Home for a day of rest
What good will martyrdom do
What good will martyrdom do

'You can ink your feet with blood in the street
Fall with the walls when the bombs come down
You can say you were there when the world didn't care
But when it's all said and done, will the war be won
Without words of reason, without someone to teach them
That home is where the heart is and we all need one

Yasmin, Yasmin, there's your man
Locked in a jail in Jerusalem
A stone's throw away from hope
Tell me, Yasmin, will you go now

Home is where the heart is
But your mother is calling you
Home for a day of rest
What good will martyrdom do
What good will martyrdom do
Home is where the heart is
Home is where the heart is

By Raja Chemayel

My phone ran up ,I picked it up ,
it was my brother phoning me from Beirut.

"Guess what !! we have won !!".....he said.

I answered him ,
Why ?? did the US Embassy close down and left ??
or did Samir Geagea hang himself ???

"No !! we are winning...........
can't you understand ??? he shouted.

Tell me more , I said,
Do we have a President elected now ??
Did the War-Lords and the Lords of the Wars..... finally agree ??
Did we reach a compromise that does not compromise ??

My brother replied :
You did not understand me , we are winning in Gaza
not in Beirut...........we are resisting in Gaza !!
Forget Beirut , it is a side-show,
Gaza is resisting !!! Gaza is heroic !!!
Gaza is the safety-jacket of the Liberation of Palestine....
and we are winning !!!

I cannot argue with my older Brother
(who is 3 years older than me)
and I cannot argue that Gaza and Beirut are not sisters , neither
and that their rapist is but one and the same.

I cannot argue that Lebanon cannot be free
if and when Palestine is occupied !!

By Remi (via: Poetic Injustice)

You ever wonder why you never see Arabs on news TV?
(No, chanting ‘God is Great!’ during flag burnings doesn’t count)
4 million in the country
Thousands teaching at universities
As many at institutions
And millions ready to speak from Arab cities
(Yes, in English)

We are occupying, not one, but two Mideast nations
Looking at a couple others
Support the occupation in Palestine
Yet, no one has the mind to bring on these journalists
Pundits, academics, and regular nationalists
From the countries of conflict

When crazy Lou Dobbs talks about the “illegal wetbacks”
There’s no hesitation to contact
Organizations staging protests
When secretary molester Bill O’Reily talks about abortion
He brings on angry butch feminists
(Not that that’s a bad thing)
Demanding the right to choose
When a shuttle crashes
You bring on NASA
It’s not fuckin’ rocket science!

How do you expect to understand the Middle East
If you refuse to televise their views
Instead the stations
Bring on white male analysts
That can list how many times
They’ve visited the Middle East on one hand

Now I understand that fair and balanced
Subverts the plan of central command
But the media shouldn’t toe the line
For our government’s blind bias
We already have human rights detractors
Alan Dershowitz
And Miss “chip on her shoulder”
Ann Coulter

So what’s the media so afraid of?
That those doon coons
Might hate policy rather than the Jews
Or is the humanizing of a people
They’re destroying just too much to stomach?

I don’t think Nicaraguans, East Timorese
Or any Iraqi today hates our way of life
They just don’t like being shit on!

Injustice not fanatics
Fans the flame of fundamentalism
Bin Laden wouldn’t have a pot to piss in
If he didn’t have a cause

Maybe the West should start abiding by
Some of that international law it created
And ask those in the Near East
Hey towel heads
Why all the hatred?

[Hat tip: Ali Dahmash]

Palestinian-American poet and political activist Suheir Hammad.

She --author of three books, two-time winner of the Audre Lord Writing Award, and co-recipient of the 2005 Sister of Fire Award-- is what you would call a "political poet." This longtime Brooklyn resident sees her poetry as news, containing the power to influence and illuminate the world. She believes that she has as much right to write poems about hot-potato, topical issues-Iraq, Palestine-as the more common subjects of poets, like love and death. "Poetry has no greater vocation than transformation," she tells her students during a class for aspiring poets at the Bowery Poetry Club. "We don't need poems that just describe a moment." (Source: Cypher)

She has used her poetry to protest against the war in Iraq and the Bush administration, and to support the Palestinian freedom movement and women's rights.

Here is another short one:

Suheir Hammad, a poet from Brooklyn, appeared on the debut episode of HBO's "Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry." Her poetry has been featured on the BBC World Service and National Public Radio, and her work has appeared in publications as diverse as Essence, Stress, Hip-Hop Magazine and the Middle East Report. Her poems can also be found in anthologies including New to North America, Listen Up!, The Space Between Our Footsteps, and 33 Things Every Girl Should Know About Women's History. Hammad's produced plays include Blood Trinity (NY Hip-Hop Theatre Festival) and ReOrientalism (Center for Cultural Exchange). She has also appeared at universities and prisons throughout the United States. (Source: HBO)

You can read an interview with Hammad here and visit her website at SuheirHammad.com

[Hat tip: Haytham Zeidan]

This is what we teach our kids, this is our crime, they call us anti-Semitism because we... "LOVE PALESTINE". Proud to be criminal in that sense!.

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Salaam Haitham

I hope you are keeping well.

I wrote this poem a few days ago..my friend in Lebanon passed on Friday. He was helping women and children escape from Tyre. His legs were blown off and he was left in this position for many hours. He later died on the way to assistance when the Hezbollah soldiers found him.

He was not a soldier. Just a boy studying photography, he likes flowers and had a small little bird, and loved peanut butter. sorry if i sound mad right now.

We are all Hezbollah

They covet not only the East but this precious life itself,
all hands working as one to break
and dominate
the sacred white fires of resistance,
so that your terror may go
unchecked
no defense, broken and weeping
in pity
for itself, but we will not acquiesce
to this, here we are
standing in the name of world
demanding justice
here we stand armed only
with honour
on the two legs of Hezbollah, for peace
cannot come from you to us
peace is a resolution, salaamat
the determination to see this battle through
to the end,
peace is a choice, a decision that is made deep inside
where shallow waters cannot reach
nor shallow hands or plans
making the right choice every chance you get
and we will not bow to anything that compromised this
certainly not the
government of one
for none
but themselves
deciding the fate of the world behind closed doors
you keep carving me into pieces
keep me busy just trying to survive
these fires rage like dancing bullets in front of my eyes
taking my soul in flames and I�m burning up
the reaction you need as a pretext
but you walk a fine line between me and you,
bloody death from the hands of Aramani clad gentlemen
we the oppressed, the innocent
choose to die together
or come through as one
the mirrors of you reveal
there is no invincibility
no magician like tacticians that cannot be seen as transparent
if only you know where to look
control the way in which they play your mind against itself
confusing you with the fa�ade that they are
forever under attack
this retaliation is nothing but a massacre,
one collective genocide on humanity itself
let them come
drop your bombs on me
you will find
we are not afraid of your weakness
cum brutality
there is nothing here now that can be broken
but the Israeli regime
and soon they too will be dependent on the same people they brutalized
everyday
a matter of policy they will later say...forgive us.
I will not forgive that which must never be forgotten...
Never Again. Never Again.
Does that touch a raw nerve?
Here too, my friend, here too.
and we do it not for religion
but freedom
defying the monster with every cell in this body
for the liberation of the living
in the name of your most Holy, whatever you call Him
the name of God must no longer be hijacked by mercenaries
cus in deception they move
transferring the war from Palestine to Lebanon
we know
they failed on that front, Palestine
will not submit to you,
and in deception, they proclaim, they shall do war
but we are not afraid to resist
we will not go into hiding and pretend this doesn�t exist as your yoke
tightens on our necks,
choking us to death
look my way, one look alone
and you will shatter into a thousand pieces
the truth has a way of devastating falsehood
and I am not afraid
to take you on, all six hundred million bullets
it will take much more
to touch me
I am Chechen, Tibetan, Palestinian, Lebanese
I am Iranian, Somalian, Sudanese
I am the baby born into this world with clenched fists
the secret jewel of the world hidden in the palm of my hand,
futures and dreams already broken
cus you say its okay;
the price is worth it
but we do not accept, and what you started
we will finish
all hands linked
Africa, Asia, Latin America
Hear us in the whispers of those who resist...
Cus that day has come.

We are all Hezbollah.

El Gato