Published in http://www.fulcrum-anglican.org.uk

    babylon strains

and i lean with the wind

groaning in pain
cos the labour is

    toiling    the    soil    rocky

and the neon lights flash
harder
covered in filth and weeping with
knowing that there's more to love than
30 dollars and a blue strip light

casualties line the way

the exiles who fell
    who
        crossed
            the
                river
                    but
forgot how to sing

    babylon stains

and the exile forgets

    the homeland
the bus throbbing
the concrete coolness

sirens

sweat and bills
lullaby our senses
until our one certain hope
is another
    dream.

but the voice remains
and should you prise off the
gag
the words flood your head and
heart like
    final sun rays
        or forgiveness

This is not your home.

Today we speak of anniversaries
and still freedom waits

there has been too much

Today we speak of history and overviews
and the checkpoint is manned

indefinite captivity
tears fall into the soil

the dust is not free
but nor is it captive

And still we remain we stick in your throat and brush against your
military issue jacket
and our hot breath in your face reminds you

Red green black white are the colours of this nation

there is music in the air
stones whistling and voices of defiance
to die standing is better than to live at
your feet

Forty years. Count each one. You hoped to finish what you began.

But you toss and turn in your bed because you can not
finish, there are more trees than bulldozers and more children than bullets
and more hope than despair

You scraped the names from the map until your fingers bled
and still we remain.

Palestine.

It was
       and it is
                and it will be again

Published in Agenda/Broadsheets poetry journal, Issue 7

Earth woman
no illusions this time

your body does not grow old,
holds back time.
a fire inside keeps
your skin alive and your eyes

what?

pierce and capture

clinging to shadows
bathed in the moonlight

there can not be
another

and now we face things as one body
my hands on your stomach
and our eyes looking ahead

Earth woman
who leaps
and holds on to the dance
it is impossible to bury you

from your mouth comes air
and your fingers give light

Published in Agenda/Broadsheets poetry journal, Issue 7

like the wind that caresses the cheek or blows tiles from a roof

stronger than the tree
rooted in the generations
it doesn't move
and its branches always bear fruit

strong
like an idea
that rises anew with each youth who
raises his fist and dreams

yellow petals ripple
and catch your hair
so you close your eyes to
breathe

strong like the sun
on your uplifted face
and the cascading water on your back

your fears have nothing compared
with this strength

they are shadows that melt into light