Exposed, a poem by Hasan Newash

‘Awraat Exposed
March 18, 2008

Rain from F-16 the merciless rockets
US- made on Gaza and Deir Al-Balah
Dates are ripe- day six, on trips
How many I make to palm tree
Bring a’saf en-nakhel green to cover
The dead and how many wounds
Must a palm endure
As daflas flowering- not any more
Their blooms all cut
To honor the dead?
A hundred twenty-four killed
Among them five month old Nazir
The only son whose mother
Waits his arrival five long years
Two-day infant girl Abeer
Who hardly got her lesson to breathe
And Abu ‘Aahid ‘Attallah
His wife two sons two daughters
All have perished in the rubble
Their home is leveled
As the wounded bleeding
Left to die
No ambulance is allowed
And too no travel
Curfew shuts in all
And anything moves is shot
On sight a total siege
No water power medicine
Funerals not allowed
Too, holding night of azza
On continues death of daughter
Son father mother neighbor friend
No time to take a breath
As Naval gunner Cole at sea
Is aiming near
Mission is crush democracy
Chosen by my relatives
Sabra is watching Handhala’s hands
Are tied with no one moving
Cairo’s street is dead
And government too
Stuck in mute
The UN Council and the leaders
Masturbating in Ramadan
Fierce my leader blares: “Stop the stupid
Quassam rockets, they excuse
Another massacre”
What excuses were there
To expel
A million from their homes in ‘48
Demolish villages- ethnic cleansing
Encore ’67
What excuses for the wall
Thirty foot high
To cut
A million trees and shut
The road
To walking kindergarten class?
As dig my well to collect
The rain from God is now illegal
Farmer waving white sheet
Onto which to harvest
Olive tree-his livelihood
And the family’s for generations
Too illegal
What excuses?
In his speech my leader claims
I harbor Quaida fighters
Stamping license to declare on Canaan
“Bigger Holocaust” by its victims
Sixty years past
My leader! On whose side you stand
The frantic scream is deafening on TV
By grown men losing
Loved ones on the mount of Kashef
Outside Gaza?
Your excuse revolting not to move
But lead
And blame the victim
What excuse is left except my breathing?
Unacceptable for them too
I am fighting still if breathing
Pushed to suicide slowly
Better inside the suicide belt?
Revolting your excuse and leading
Leave your villa
Pack your BMW go in Tel Afrit
To follow your sham
Or live on Riviera’s love fest nude
In “negotiate” with lovers
From the enemy’s side
Intoxicate to max!
I die here taking on
The Vikings’ incarnation and bulldozers
With my hands
Alone
And Jafra’s cling
To holy et-teen waz-zaytoun
Of the Qur’an
Fake your Arab your Islam
I cling
My fingers tire
Of tearing prison walls alone
And all excuses leading
Nowhere
And for whom?
Expose all privates
Errant ways
And tear down the walls!
Fal tukshaf el-‘awraat
Watuhattam el-aswaar!

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1) ‘Awaraat: Body privates

2) A’saf en-nakhel and daflas: Palm tree branches and oleander flowers used to decorate caskets.

3) Azza: Wake held for the dead.

4) Sabra: Prickly pears cactus stubbornly growing on the ruins of Palestinian villages.

5) Handhala: Cartoon creation, by Naji El-Ali, depicting Palestinians watching, hands tied behind the back, history unfolding.

6) Ramadan: Muslim holy month of fasting from food, sex, and other life pleasures.

7) Et-teen waz-zaytoun of the Qur’an: Figs and olives mentioned in the Qur’an, the Muslim holy book.