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| Days of Our Lives: Jah Chemistry |
2007 Dawson Prize for Poetry
>> Author bio
Military Contractors and financial companies led shares higher yesterday . . .
As bombs beat blood out of Palestinian Refugees
In response to the latest suicide blood oath
In the name of Allah
(forgive them for their sins)
When the shattered fragments
Of what used to be an apartment
Sail past heads of frightened Arabs
Too young to understand the complexities of hate
And the need for atonement
(MA MA!! Please wake up!)
From the guns on Gaza glowing red with tracers
Tracing silhouettes of kids with rocks
Trapped between life
And a hard place called
Death on the Horizon
(Where American-made helicopters
perch their fat underbellies
laden with no love
for the peace process)
Gyrate and chirp mechanical genocide
this WAR MACHINE makes
Middle-aged stockbrokers
Richer by the hour
And devours Third World People
In the Name of
New World Totalitarian Order!
The Dow Jones has no conscience
NASDAQ has no soul
These rifle sounds ricochet through Ramallah
As young Abdullah runs for cover
His face covered with blood
Of his Brother
Sowing the seeds of
Tomorrow’s destruction
Homemade explosives packed with nails.
(In the Name of ALLAH!
I shall not fail!)
(Shema Israel Adonai Elohanu…)
BOOM!
. . . 19 Israelis killed today during a Passover dinner
in what Officials call the worst Terrorist attack since
the latest peace talks began . . .
To desensitized bright-eyed Jewish children
Turned old by ancient ignorance
Hardened by aggression.
The festering wound of hated
Runs deeper than the pockets
Of IMF Chairmen
While small hands clutch ghosts of Hope
Rubber bullets snap necks in the West Bank
(INTIFADA!)
(INTIFIDA!)
(INTIFIDA!)
(My father,
My father,
My father,
Why do they hate us so much?
I pray and study Torah each day in Yeshiva
And ask God for understanding,
But how can I love those
Who have killed my mother?!!)
Zipline drops Commandos like
Ticker tape on a trading floor
Hamas Guerillas have no idea
That Death has arrived
With the early morning dew
(. . . 1 2 3
FLASH! BANG! BOOM!
3-round burst
. . . Clear . . . Clear . . . Clear . . .)
The first prayer of the day
Has been destroyed FOREVER!!
Like the bullet-riddled bed
Of a Palestinian woman
Who will never wake up
To love her children
The blood-soaked prayer rug
Of her 13-year-old son
Absorbs childhood flights of fancy
And dreams of a free adulthood.
As newborn David of Tel Aviv
Takes his first breath
IN THE NAME OF ALLAH . . . . . . . . . .
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