There is No Spring, Brother – A Poem

(A Reply to Nasser Barghouty)

By Francis Oeser

You’re right,
it doesn’t feel like spring.
Leaves of love are fallen,
contempt poisons the ground,
even the stars dim in pain.
No! It’s certainly not spring.

They tell us we’re the “new world rising”
They tell us freedom is ours.
It’s only theirs.
They tell us to mourne the blazing paper seller
whose death makes a better life
for them, NOT us.
The stars in our eyes dim
and day becomes night.

Ah Naseer, red is a brave colour
not only rage but rosey life,
of sunrises for days of communality and peace –
the hatching of warm dreams.

They talk of glory
They tell us they really care.
They’ve eaten the cake and forbid us its crumbs.
There is no spring, believe me, Brother.
We must find it in this wilderness of greedy lies.
Maybe our rosey children will know
freedom in the brightest stars,
finding the world we missed.

– Francis Oeser is a novelist and a poet. He contributed this poem to

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1 Comment

  1. A moving poem indeed that vividly depicts the sorrowful condition of Palestine and its people, and by extension all the victims of the resurgent U.S and Western imperialism.

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