Bleeding for Liberty, Hungry for Dignity

Hometown? I don’t have one.

I come from political turmoil
Half of me bleeding for liberty, the other hungry for dignity
From the gossip in Nablus, to the celestial ambience of Bethlehem, the green?top hill
of Khalil that turns into a desolate kill, all the way to the thrill of Jerusalem, and then
back in Ramallah, thank Allah

Looking down on lit?up Damascus, Muhajreen was were my family's first house was
From the history of Umayyad to the mystery of Saidnayah, on the Otustrad of Mazzeh,
drive north to reunite with the foliage of Bloudan, a walk through Jnenet il Jahiz,
ending up where my family’s current house sits

Will I ever get the choice of living in the womb of one of my mothers?
Please start showing me some different colors.




ABOUT THE POET ~
A Palestinian/Syrian poet who belongs to the English language


Last updated January 15, 2016