Poem composed on the occasion of The United Nations International Day of Solidarity with the Palestinian People – Sunday 29 November 2015.
Words and more words are the territories of our Palestinian lives.
Like bees we manufacture honeyed exile in solitary hives.
We need no maps, no borders, no territories for ours is a state of limbo
Scaffolded in lines of regimented words standing straight arms akimbo.
Each reaches within a private satchel bursting with words which we smith
Into any shape we wish, creating endless stories, lines and a long myth.
Words worm their waggish way onto our parted lips falling over the edge
Hamlet-like asking more questions than we can answer – so we hedge.
Hedging here and there in search of more words mocking our diaspora
As if we could see the Nakba and take evidentiary pictures without a camera.
That way we are kept busy vomiting more words – rhyme or no rhyme
Beating the seconds since it all started at the beginning of time.
If we took our words and gave them to ten million apes bashing keyboards
They could probably do so much better than our endless hordes.
Coincidentally, with War and Peace, these hominoids could write on peace
And give us solace and comfort – thus this ghastly word smithing cease.
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This post was written by Faysal Mikdadi