No one can take away from me
My identity,
For it is mine.
Palestinian am I.
 
I am the river that flows
Through my land.
I am the mountain
Noble and magnificent
Rising up out of chaos and destruction.
 
I greet the morning sun
That shines down on my fertile valleys
And parches my barren desert.
 
I am the red poppy and yellow daffodil
That grow upon my bloodstained hills.
I am the battle cry of freedom
That echoes through my corridors
And every fiber of my being.
 
Palestinian am I.
I am the proud owner of
Orange orchards and lemon blossoms
And honey bees, wild and free.
 
I am the David child wielding a single stone
Against the Israeli Goliath.
I am not afraid,
For truth is with me and God is on my side.
If I die,
A choir of angels will honor me
And later, my parents will grasp my outstretched hand
And join me in Heaven.
I am the tears of
Mothers weeping for their dead sons.
I am the footsteps of ancient prophets
Who foretold of doom and destruction
To those who torture and oppress me.
 
My brethren are the doves, hummingbirds and seagulls
That fly unhindered above my sea.
I am Palestinian,
Therefore, I am.
 
No one can take my identity
Away from me,
Not tanks or guns or bombs
Meant to desecrate me and kill me.
My country lives in me.
 
I am the cry of liberty
No matter what they take from me,
They can't take away my identity
Or my dignity.
Palestinian am I.

When I was eight years old, I was watching cartoons on
sunny afternoons, sitting cross legged in my living
room years removed from impending doom, playing kick
ball and 4 square in the playground, not a single fear
or a damn care ever stayed around, days of peace and
happiness lost in blissful bashfulness, I shed a tear
now as I remember this, thirteen years later each
sight a twisted labor gazing at the newspaper, young
souls with years to savor wiped away by a bloody
eraser, lives lost in danger, the greed and ambition
of too many fiends who seed this division only seem to
speed their missions, ethnic genocides and vicious
decisions only breed more victims, Bosnia, Chechnya,
Kashmir, young innocence living in fear, their lives
the destruction did not spare, speed to heaven among
the angels who care, Inshallah I'll pray for you, I
swear

A nine year old girl clutching a straw doll as the
soldiers saw this baby pearl just like they saw all,
three shots later, her blood stained the four walls,
her tears screaming a silent call, her face in my
dreams gnawing into my soul like a raw awl, her body
covered with small shawl, please young soul stand tall
and God bless you on your journey to junnah,
Inshallah, live in peace where you are more then a
number, a statistic on a politician's agenda,
Inshallah, smile again and be free, peace and
blessings upon thee, the tear I shed as you whisk away
to paradise, young sista you payed the price for our
bloody evils and vice, now rest

Don't you know the sun shines for you?
Declining to ascend bring the day anew
For you to fulfill your dreams, accomplish you purest desires
If you disagree surely you're a liar
In denial that you embody beauty
Able to possess peace
First severe the hindering leash
Binding you to despair
Once you crush the shackles of hopelessness you will be aware
Of your true potential, consequential
Is this shared fate, to hate a state of emptiness that remains, innate
See the world around us that we share
The birds that sing
The babe that clings
The ants that crawl
The snow that falls
All in all we have a purpose
Find it fulfill it before you desert this
Magnanimous creation that has an appointed time
Life is precious and love is divine

Woe onto every servant who having been shown
a peek at the master's work runs back arrogantly 
demanding praise for their inadequate description of it. 
in time, the foolish will know, that all was shown
but only the gaze of some was lost in stupor.               
    
    
    
   

(another chapter in the war against the Muslims)                
Lebanon is screaming
Her face bloodied
Her hair on fire
Her hands in supplication

Lebanon is screaming
Running in circles of despair
In search of her children
Under burning buildings
Searching for her mothers
Floating in ruined rivers
Her fathers
Under ruined fruit stalls
Her husbands
Embraced in hot steel on the way home

Lebanon is screaming
Her babies boiled in the fire of hatred
Her students boiled in the fire of ignorance
Her body despoiled by beastly arrogance
Her destruction ignored by kings and presidents and prime ministers

Lebanon is screaming
Are there no men to save her?
To help her?
To get justice for her?

Men
Muslim Men
Come out from your businesses!
Come out from your coffee shops!
Come out from your schools!
Come out from your mosques!
Come out!
Come out!
Wherever you are!

Lebanon is screaming!
And I can't sleep!
Can You?