Hopelessly Hopeful

Posted by Akashma Online News
by Marivel Guzman

Palestinian Mother and her Child 1900

Contemplating the pain,
I felt the pain hurt,
as a burning thorn,
as an infuriated rose.

Wanting to dulcify the injury
with the honey of my soul,
bitter salty rivers
of tears keep sprouting out.

The scavenging terror
had eaten from my womb,
…that was always immense,
always eternal.

I have felt the others pain
fluttering with anguish,
asking to the sky Mercy!
Have Not found what he looks for?.

On the bloody Meadows,
flies the angel of madness
drinking of your breath
feeding from your dwelling.

I Feel your pain
stabbing with out stopping,
I feel it in the air,
…….deep fear,

I have been drunk with bitterness,
I have tasted your rudeness,
I ate my sadness,
and give you my caress.

Rest on my blossom
drink from my soul,
there is abundance
respite, solace

Take refugee in my soft veil
cover your open wound
I am the flower’s honey
waiting for the bee.

I m the land of hopes,
the brave, the prophets,
the land of the prayers,
I m the Holy Land
I m Free Palestine.

The love for Palestine is indestructible

Being peace activist and having witnessed the worse atrocities of war thru the eyes of my brothers in Gaza, I put myself as the Land, this beautiful Palestine, that it has been terrorized, and methodically destroyed by the enemies of Mother Earth, as it was surgically planned since the beginning, before the colonizers came to settle in Palestine armed with a paper that signed away the rights of millions of natives of the land.
I had lived thru Skype and facebook with my friends in Palestine the everyday life of an occupied land, I had heard the bombs thru the speakers, and seen the terror in the faces of my friend,  listening the stories of friends killed resisting, killed trying to reach their agricultural lands, terrorized trying to fish. There are so many abandoned facebook accounts, I don’t need to tell you what happen to them.
I wrote this poem in pain, trying to explain with words,  the pain of my Palestinians brothers, the pain of the Land being ravaged every day by the madness of an unwelcome violence.
Every word is painted with blood, but also I feel the love of the land, this Palestinian Land that have protected Palestinians with the love of a mother, Receiving their blood with love, with patience, waiting for that precious blood to fertilize the soil, to make it stronger for the new generations.
This is the Land softly speaking to their sons and daughters, she is saying that they are together in this journey of pain, as one body just separated by birth but reunited by death.
AT the end they will go back to the land that nurtured them, that saw them grow, the land that it is the only food for the soul for Palestinians.
This is a Poem of Pain and Love born of pain and love.
Written by blood, dulcified by salty tears. Ironic!
I want to express my sorrow but to give hopes, but I feel broken, exhausted of seeing so much blood spilled.
Long Live Free Palestine, these four words exalt the spirit and inflict new hopes, for a new dawns.: ‘( I cry as I write the poem-the story, but I smile 🙂 for there is always tomorrow.
I wrote this poem Back in 2010 after the other one sided war, but as today the pain is the same. I want to share it again, because again I m in pain.
Many can not understand why somebody so far away can cry for Palestine, but it is what it is.
When you become peace activist you become part of the conflict, and as such we become responsible from the other side of the conflict.
It is such the bond with the oppressed that we can never be the same, we can never stay silence again.
For All my Palestinians brothers and sisters.
A Poem of Love and  Pain

by Marivel Guzman © Jun 22, 2010

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