Ode to Lifta – A Poem

By Aida Qasim Even Neruda’s birds that once roamed from sea to sea have flown to other continents The stones I once rested against during the olive harvest seem to sit by indifferently as another kingdom […]

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Reflections on Palestine – A Poem

By Stephen Brackens-Brinkley & Dorothy Dot Milnes-Simm Beautiful the olive trees that grew in Palestine, and beautiful the buildings rising up through branches fine. Wonderful the people that were thrown into a cell Israel’s the […]


By Uzma Falak My grandmother wove dreams on her spinning wheel, invoked you in her songs. I memorized the rhyme. My mother treasured your olives— a keepsake of the Blessed Land, a relic I never touched. […]

Summer in Gaza – A Poem

By Uzma Falak We are left to count again massacres, dead eyes harboring a dream, burnt throats on the brink of a an anthem charred olives, faithful lips and fingers— maimed. Seraj- 8, Bassim-10, Moussa-16, […]

Variations – A Poem

By Ramona Wadi reciting the vacillations of exile in decades marked by the erosion of twilight a sonorous punctuation of language lacerated by fire and bludgeoning touching nothing but memory an insatiable horizon, mingling with […]

When Kathy Kelly Went to Jail

By Gary Corseri [Kathy Kelly is the co-coordinator of Voices for Creative Nonviolence. She has traveled to Iraq and Gaza during wartime–to bear witness and give comfort. The author of “Other Lands Have Dreams,” she […]

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Before Our Eyes – A Poem

By Ramona Wadi membrane mired in melancholy seizing silent slivers of stone escaping the eruption of missiles divesting eyes of light a distorted symphony of deranged dust describing deliberate deconstruction of dwellings succumbing to asymmetry […]

Inscribing Palestine – A Poem

By Ramona Wadi International abandonment a horizon exploding in hideous light beneath the massacred canopy echoes of footsteps, voices, laments the tapestry unravels, threads suffocating street corners, pavements, rubble and sand melting faces dissipating in […]

Jewish Poem of Contrition

By Darren Stein There is no hiding from the screams of a child, Baby forms shredded by shrapnel, Little bodies broken by bricks; It makes me sick to look upon, ashamed as both a human […]