art by maRco Elliott

Imagine
Please, if you will,
Kind colonizer,
Sweet imperialist,
Saucy capitalist,
A desperate father sneaks out
surreptitiously as a mouse,
Searching for ANYTHING to feed his
starving darling, the beloved soul of his soul
While a sniper playing Call of Duty,
Neutralizes his target,
And the child dies of hunger
And the father’s body decomposes among
The rubble, denied a funeral,
Denied humanity,
Having been killed by the silence of
civilized braggards and heartless imbeciles,
Another day in Gaza
Where humanity haunts the witness
And confounds the innocent.
Gaza, where to be born
Is a death sentence
And an empty promise,
By an empty skull,
We are all guilty of genocide
While we hug both sides,
Oh oppressor, in your need to imagine
Yourself the victim
You killed a Palestinian child every ten minutes,
And destroyed cities by your silence.
Oh oppressor,
Holding all the power,
A system of oppression at your fingertips
A shower of pain at your convenience,
What a pile of horror it must be
To have to continue this charade
That their blood isn’t on your hands,
Isn’t a stain on your soul,
Isn’t in your control.

This thing you call society
Has been burned down in Gaza,
This idea of progress,
Of western civilization,
Of reputable institutions,
Is rotted and exposed, at its core
And its foundations,
Devoid of any shred of credibility.
All you have left is brute power
And when that fails you
I will enjoy watching you scramble for
A hand to hold,
But the hate you birthed
Will choke you
And I will not raise my voice in your defense
But will be dancing with all liberated people
On the ashes of your terror.
Shachar Efrati

 

A Seat at the Table
Outrage mounts,
Humanity shouts,
You will not win,
Your crooked grin
Will drown to a grimace
And we will look upon your face
As the face of evil within.
So bomb from a hill,
From the belly of a tank,
From the comfort of your American bank,
Keep sneering from your stolen land,
We will see Palestine stand
United in the struggle
Like a rose rising from the rubble.

So dance now on the blood of martyrs
As it sinks into the soil,
Feeding the revolution, as it boils
Over into fierce defiance
Of all oppressed people
Shaking the foundation to its core
Until dignity and equality break down the
halls of justice,
Once and for all,
Everyone gets a seat,
As humanity sits tall.
Shachar Efrati

 

Burning Sky over Gaza
Weary, the wandering Jew
At last finds his Promised Land.
Moon in mid sky, high
Over Gaza’s ruins
And wandering on.
In dusty rags, famished
The orphan Arab child cries
“Me too!” washing her face with tears
Amidst her flattened home.
maRco Elliott
With respectful apologies and humble gratitude
to Buson (1715–1783)