Palestinians Poetry


Posted February 15, 2012

The Fighter Soul

Dedicated to My Dear Natural Born Poet, and
digital Artist Mohammad Hamza.He got to be
one of the most direct and truthful revolutionary
minds I have the honor to have known.
Happy

by Marivel Guzman

Between the shadows of the past,
and between the teary eyes,
The mothers of Palestine,
summons their memories once more,

Have never been a day,
that they don’t mourn their beloved sons,
and the honor and the pride,
nest in every one of their hearts.

All the sorrows,
and the pain still remains,
Every mount of ground they touch, is like dagger
that wound them deep deep inside,
As their sons are buried in that holy ground.

Solemnity and pride is their price,
As they carry the flag of their pain as a batch
For Palestine!, ‘the’ sacrifice is an honor,
your sons for the cause martyrs become.

Oh Mother! the fighter souls born
And we Fight in the forums, and we Chant
Viva Free Palestine, that for All is Our Holy Land.

February 15, 2012 11:30 pm

Marivel R Guzman © 2010

Inseparable Twins

Poem by Marivel Guzman

Jun 14, 2010

Anguish and sadness,

Excruciating pain,

Emptiness!

Grieving, departing,

Separation!

Memories gathering

Squishing them tight

Take them in your journey

Afraid to say…

the last good byes

Behind you’re leaving

Your Mother Land…

Wanted to escape,

To run!,

Fighting your shadows,

your mind!

Dark Torment,

ghost of the past,

Shadows of the present

Don’t cry is part of life

Leaving behind your mother

Is not a crime!

Leaving Your cradle,

your dreams

your bed,

your friends

It’s just part of life

Sons of the mother,

Missing her breath

Her worries,

her endless advices!,

The kitchen spices……..

Her lovely hands,

Although with pain

They need to abandon

That beloved soil

The Mother Land

Holding your fits

to your heart

Yelling in profound silence,

you Ask!

What you’ve given me?……

Death, Misery and blood!

Oh Dear Beloved

Sons of this land

Terrible future you have

You want to live,

You want to fly,

But the ties to the land,

And the guilt of your absence,

Are spears in your heart

That Distance promising

As a poisonous arrow,

Your soul is free!

To decide,

You know,

Victory is not given…..

Not, to barren hands

Rivers of blood feeding

This thirsty land,

Never enough,

To Quench the thirst of the war,

Longing to return, Already!,

But have not even

Departed!

This Land that saw you

play, And cry!

Same!

Tormented soil,

Hearing the thunder

The Bombs,

Your mother pots

your brothers laughing

Same!

Your cries and laughs

All blended in time!

Your wrote his story

In every hill,

every hole, every grave

every tree,

the mist, the blows in the morning

the light the gives life

You are every where

My sons, you exist

In the Nowhere…..

That part of everything

That sees,

that touch!

Always Moving,

Touching everything

Penetrating all the landscape

Your joy and your pain

Feeling like one,…..

the same!

My sons, You want to go,

And conquer the world,

but that wound in your heart,

Creeps,

grows like the Vine

Run My son, ride the winds,

touch the other side

We are the same,

continuity, sea and dirt

Same!

Like Mahmoud Darwish,

Using his pen and soul,

To give his message

with angel wings to the world

Writing emptiness in the sky

He won your heart, my heart

Same!

Mi memories will live in you

Inside your flesh,

Running through your blood,

Being here,

or there.

I embrace you the same!

Be gone, grow wings, Fly!

That this land will always be here

Always be yours,

You are not departing

We are moving to the

other side, you and me

Same!

This poem of love

Will always survive

The pain of the mothers,

Will be there, with you

With your soul in your flesh,

But….

That grief will be joy

When you my sons pray

Every time your forehead

Touches the ground!

All the laughs, memories, pains,

Blended as one in that moment

of meditation, raising your vibration

Be happy, Be Palestine

Time will give you

That sought peace

No battles, no bombs

The story is rewritten

You win!,

Peace be with you

You deserve it

Behold that though

When you feel Free

I will be Free, because…

We are one

Mother, sons and Land

Same!

I will be in your dreams

Return to this mount of soil,

My essence will give you warm

The thought, will give you

Food for you soul.

Ancestral ties

always here, my sons,

Always yours, remember

Your Land is Palestine

Continuous terrain

that connects, all around,

Don’t cry.

Just touch the ground,

It’s all sacred,

The mystery of life

That connects.

Love is with you,

As soul and heart,

As you are dirt,

You are part of this land,

Inseparable twins

Gemelas Inseparables

Poema de  Marivel Guzman

La angustia y la tristeza,

un dolor inmenso,

Vacío!

Desconsuelo, Partida,

separación!

recopilación de recuerdos,

aprietalos fuerte

Llévalos en tu jornada …

el miedo de decir

el último adios

Atras dejas

Tu Madre Tierra

queríendo escapar,

correr!,

peleado tus sombras,

su mente!

Obscuro Tormento,

fantasma del pasado,

Sombras del Presente

No llores,

es parte de la vida,

Dejando atrás a tu madre,

No es un crimen!

Dejando tu cuna,

sus sueños

tu cama,

tus amigos,

Es sólo parte de la vida,

Hijos de la madre,

extranando su aliento,

sus preocupaciones,

sus consejos sin fin!,

Las especies de cocina … .

Sus manos primorosas,

aunque con dolor

Tienen que abandonar

esa tierra amada

la Madre Tierra,

juntando tus punos,

cerca de tu corazón

Gritando en silencio profundo,

preguntas!

que me has dado ?……

Muerte, miseria y sangre!

Oh! Amado Querido

Hijos de esta tierra

futuro Terrible te espera

Quieres vivir!,

quiere volar!,

pero los lazos con la tierra,

Y la culpa de tu ausencia,

son lanzas en tu corazón,

La prometedores Distancia

como flecha venenosa,

Hijos Mios

Tu alma es libre

de decidir,

Tu sabes que la victoria no sera dada,

a manos infertiles.

Ríos de sangre alimentando

la tierra sedienta,

que Nunca se llena,

Para saciar la sed de la guerra,

anhelando regresar ya,

pero aún no has partido!

Esta tierra que te vio jugar,

y llorar!

Es lo mismo!

Suelo Atormentado,

escuchando el trueno

las bombas,

las ollas de tu madre

la risa de tus hermanos

Lo mismo

Sus gritos y risas

mezclados en el tiempo!

Tu escribiste tu historia

en todos las colina,

En cada hoyo,

cada tumba,

En cada árbol,

la niebla,

los tumultos de la mañana

la luz del da vida

Tu estás en todas partes,

hijos míos,

tu existes enl ninguna parte … ..

La parte de todo

que ve,

que toca!

Siempre moviendose,

Tocando todo

penetrante todo el paisaje,

tu alegría y tu dolor

Sentirlo como uno solo, … ..

lo mismo!

Hijos míos, Te Quieres ir,

y conquistar el mundo,

pero esa herida en su corazón,

que arrastra,

que crece como la Viña,

corre hijo mío,

Galopa con el viento,

toca el otro lado del mundo,

Somos la misma tierra

Lo mismo!,

la continuidad,

el mar y la tierra

Somos lo mismo!

Al igual que Mahmud Darwish,

Que Uso de la pluma y el alma,

Para dar su mensaje

con alas de ángel al mundo,

escribiendo en la vascuidad del cielo,

Él ganó tu corazón, my corazón,

Lo mismo!

Mi recuerdo vivirá en ti,

Dentro de tu carne,

corriendo por tu sangre,

estando aquí, o alla.

Te abrazo de igual modo!

Vete,

crece alas,

Vuela!

Que esta tierra siempre estará aquí

siempre sera tuya,

no te estás llendo Hijo Mio

Nos estamos moviendo hacia el otro lado,

tú y yo

lo mismo!

Este poema de amor

siempre sobrevivirá

Con el dolor de las madres,

Yo estare siempre allí,

contigo, con tu alma en tu carne,

pero recuerda,

Este dolor será alegría,

Cuando mis hijos rezen,

Cada vez que tu frente toque el suelo!

Todas las risas,

recuerdos,

y penas,

mezcladas todas,

en ese momento de meditación,

elevando tu vibración,

Se feliz, se Palestina

el tiempo te dará

la paz buscada,

no mas batallas,

no mas bombas,

la historia se escribira otra vez,

Tu ganas!

Que La paz sea contigo,

Te lo mereces:

Manten ese pensamiento,

que cuando tu te sientas libre Yo sere libre,

porque ..La madre, los hijos y la Tierra son una

Lo mismo!

Yo estare en tus sueños

y en ellos regresa,

a este monte de tierra,

Donde mi esencia te dará abrigo

Mi pensamiento te dará Alimentos para tu alma.

Ancestrales lazos siempre aquí,

mis hijos, siempre tuyos,

recuerda tu tierra es Palestina

terreno contiguo,

que nos conecta,

a todos alrededor,

no llores.

Sólo toca el suelo,

Es sagrado,

el misterio de la vida

que se conecta.

El amor está con contigo,

como alma y corazón

Como tu y la tierra,

ú eres parte de esta tierra,

gemelos inseparables

The Mother

On Friday, June 11, 2010 at 8:28pm

Is this massacre of yours

Self defense?,. Can’t you see?

The damage that you causing to the land?,

you are poisoning the Holy Land,

You are making barren her hills

killing her sons, and uprooting her trees

Destruction is not a battle,

you think, you win?

their sons blood is sinking in the land,

more warriors are being planted

Don’t you know?,…

that they will spring out to the light.

growing like the vine

strong, with branches full of life

embracing all in their path

in an immortal bond that feeds and gives

the fruits of dreams, embracing

The Mother branches as one

That soil that you are ravaging,

will come back all green

full of life feed by seeds, as

Their memory is nectar to the bees

that will be carried like pollen to every corner

to every flower, every tree

A bullet don’t kill the dreams,

make them stronger to live.

They will come back with all their might

to embrace that holy place

that you are calling yours…..

Sacred grown is Palestine!

That land was their cradle,

the crib that rock their dreams

Can you hear?,

the crying of the mothers?

in procession to their graves?

You are killing this generation!

But impregnating the next one to come,

Stronger!, More Beautiful!,

In the fountains of Eden

Newer generation purified by blood

blessed by the angels directed by God

Will they use the same madness?,

that you use to kill their brethren men?,

Will they use the same rage?

To make you pay for the

Humiliation of their pious mothers

Remember, how you insulted their pain?.

Worse that Death, is being forgotten

History is not a story that tell from your side!

history comes to stamp your crimes,

written with blood, written on the land

Their trees were witnesses, you took their roots

but the seeds were dispersed by the wind

Palestine…..never existed!

You wrote it on your books

The Terra Santa was always here!

Palestine has resisted, her blood is in your boots!,

can you smell the sweetness in the air?

flowing like honey, filling the cracks of despair

But a worse punishment,

that all your people will pay.

worse that death, is non existence.

Erase from the books that you created,

it will be a new history, where the land

flowing with honey is Palestine

The blood and the tears of the Mothers

blending in a cocktail of hope

For their sons last wish was to

depart kissing the soil

The martyrs last breath ,whispering

Palestine will live forever

Viva Palestine, My blood is my sacrifice,

For you Mother! Palestine will raise again,

The Mother, The Sons and the Land

It is what we know as Palestine

The Holy Land, The Terra Santa

Ancient Land, Palestine

Arab poetry,

on Tuesday, April 13, 2010 at 2:40pm

The wishful hope of a bleeding heart,
hoping for a smile, hoping for a light to shine its path.
the sorrow will remain nested inside,
even if the grief is extinguished by the longest night.

Sad poetry feed by pain,
with echoes of centuries of fights
with echoes of centuries of sheded blood
Is an echo of strangled Past

But is also the most beautiful piece of art
Blending Tears, Blood,with the Word
Love have won the battle with the pen
unblemished, surviving time

Who ever have cried with Nizar Qaabbani’s poetry
Only he knows that the notes of pain
the plays the music with strings from the heart
were composed with ink of blood

*************************************
I give you a verse from my favorite:
Lessons In Drawing:by Nizar Qabbani

‘When you grow up, my son,
and read the diwan of Arabic poetry
you’ll discover that the word and the tear are twins
and the Arabic poem
is no more than a tear wept by writing fingers.’

Gaza in our Hearts

by Marivel Guzman
on Saturday, June 5, 2010 at 2:21am

Seems like long time, since we were watching some news of “Operation Cast Lead”, the terrorizing assault that Israel inflicted in the powerless people of Gaza, the winter of 2009 and for 22 days, the sky lighted with white phosphorous fire, igniting the flesh of innocent civilians on the ground, the big media dissimulating the news flashing with blood, looking the other way.

For years we were accustomed to watch the news and think that if they were taking the time to broadcast it, it was maybe some truth to the news, but in the recent years, we have come to the conclusion that big media is nothing but a well paid charade of well acted scripts, and photoshopped pictures, that any high schooler can can make.

Now,29  months later, and in another show of force, Israel again attack the intellect of the people, crying victim as usual ,and our President Obama not wanting to stir the mood of the lobbyist, saying nothing to the public but the same old rhetoric, the same old school of deception and lies, only to try calm the rage, our rage, that been following and writing and supporting the Gaza Flotilla, to reach it end.

But this time, in this times of change the usual circus does not convince. We want answers, real answers, we want justice to be serve.

We wonder and with just reason we ask, how can Israel can get away so easily with a PR campaigns?, Is there Justice in this world? Can anybody stop this monster? For how long we are going to stay in the sidelines?. I’ve been writing and posting that the day is near for the calamity of the 21 century to see its end.

We the people can make it happen, as this monster is feed by money….Stop the bloodline to reach the heart….boycott Israeli products, and be strong and stop your urges to drink that smelly coffee from Starbucks.

There are thousands of items, that we can stop using without even miss a bit of them, the economy will collapse as the house of cards that holds the king in its place.

The movie industry  in the US and UK pay their share to Israel, and the Public Relations Clowns with Minister Permits that roam the Churches of the world collecting money for Israel to “return to the promise land”. Knowing the TRUTH is the first step to cut the money from reaching Israel.

Maybe the money that they collect is pennies in if we compare with the billions of dollars that comes to Israel illegally on drugs deals and other illicit activities. And also the billions that the US religiously allocate every year. We have hard work ahead, but there is always a first step to take.

The blood of the victims still fresh in the boat and Israel is already executing its next attack, do not stop talking of the Gaza Flotilla massacre, do not let the news die in the air, keep telling the story, and posting your rage.

We the people, are the only ones that care, because in this corporate world, We the People, are different from the corporate thugs, we the people are 6.5 billions and they are only a few thousands that bath in golden tubs.

We are The New Press; The Free Press of the world, we the people spreading the news, the truth.

Do not even bother in checking the big media is full of lies and deceit.

Write your own blogs, post your own videos and forget about the lies that do not feed but the monster ego, and the coffers as they own those outlets.

Next time that you browse the net, do not forget that Gaza still suffer, that justice has not been served..

Memories are Realities

On Sunday, April 18, 2010 at 6:17am

What is worse to be exiled in a foreign land,
or to be foreigner in an exiled Land,
as is happen to my brothers in Palestine.
But didn’t Allah have chosen your fate?,
you should not be angry, but pray.
Are all these complains out of desperation?,
or you have loose your faith?.
All the stories have been written on sand,
the storm have erased all the wounds of the sons of Adam.
But Brothers, we are millions that share the same story,
and we will keep it alive, we will write again.
I know how the story goes,
as I am an exile myself,
away from the land that gave me life,
I could return if I want,
and share the reality
that made me wonder to a foreign land.
I could share your pain,
and say angry words,
but I choose to fight for your rights.
I cheer with tears for this poem,
that taste like sour wine,
the pain that you have is unmeasurable,
that no ruler can count.
I salute you warrior of time,
your memories will be back to hunt.
They will bite the story
they will straighten the History,
the truth that have been buried with lies.
Have patience, have prayers,
that the world is starting to know
and the battle had began.

By Marivel Guzman

This Poem is Dedicated to The Arab Jews Palestinians in Jerusalem, The Arab Muslims Palestinians Palestinians, The Arab Christians Palestinians all that have been disposed of their homes, their lands, the ones in jail, the ones exiled, the ones fighting in Israel courts to keep their homes, the ones harassed by the Settlers and the Occupying Forces,  for the ones that died waiting for liberation, the ones that died fighting the occupation, for the Marty, but and for the ones that have not yet born.

The Great City inside the Mother Land,

Stand with patience…………. in silence,

With pain ………. with tears in her eyes,

Oh! Jerusalem my other half of Palestine.

The land of the Prophets, land of prayers,

Land of peace, Land of the brave, that know no fear,

That is my City,……. My Holy Land

Oh! Jerusalem my other half of Palestine.

The tears of the sons have salted your Sea

The blood of the martyrs are part of your soil

Their prayers are mixed with their cries

Oh! Jerusalem my other half of Palestine

Proud Jerusalem………….. standing time…

Your History is written with the reddest blood,

Your dreams and my dreams are all but one

Oh! Jerusalem my other half of Palestine

Elegant Dress you have for tonight,

Full of colors, to shine! my dreams of tomorrow,

Dreams of Freedom..for peace to come,

Oh! Jerusalem my other half of Palestine.

The Warrior is blowing, the trumpet of triumph

Victory is coming, …One day at the time,

Stand with patience……on the green line

Oh! Jerusalem my other half of Palestine

By Marivel Guzman

Together We Stand

Poem by Marivel Guzman

On Monday, April 12, 2010 at 10:22am
by Marivel Guzman

“Together we Stand” is a powerful statement
that only the brave understand,
If peace is up to the weak
then The Wall is their price to keep

Peace is for us, the lovers of life
the lovers of men, and things
that exist everywhere……….
Peace is a price, we need to fight for

“Together we Stand” divided we fall
the free of the land, will gather us all
Remember United, as One
We can conquer the World.

Marivel R Guzman

  1. July 6, 2011 at 7:13 pm

    thank you.

    • June 8, 2012 at 8:44 am

      The history of Islamic socteiy from day 1 – when Mohammed tried to dominate the earth with warring crusades, the very LEADER of the religion (compared to the nice fellas, Jesus and Buddha), has been one of violence and hostility. WE don’t cause trouble in Palestine; not content with getting angry and violent towards others, they’re currently doing it now to each other. And you know what? – I don’t care because they show no indication of stoppig their hostilities and desire to destroy Israel. Sure, they suffer; but that in itself proves nothing except that they are overpowered and treated badly by Israel – would YOU treat people well who were intent on hating and murdering you??

  2. May 27, 2011 at 10:34 pm

    test blasts

  1. June 22, 2014 at 8:49 am

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