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Epitaph for a Palestinian Child
by Michael R. Burch

I lived as best I could, and then I died.
Be careful where you step: the grave is wide.

This poem has also been titled "Epitaph for a Child of Gaza" and it has become my most popular poem on the Internet, according to Google, with over 1800 results in searches for the first and second lines. 



First They Came for the Muslims
by Michael R. Burch

after Martin Niemoller

First they came for the Muslims
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Muslim.

Then they came for the homosexuals
and I did not speak out
because I was not a homosexual.

Then they came for the feminists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a feminist.

Now when will they come for me
because I was too busy and too apathetic
to defend my sisters and brothers?

Published in Amnesty International’s Words That Burn anthology. A stated goal for the anthology is to teach students about human rights through poetry.



Frail Envelope of Flesh
by Michael R. Burch

(for the mothers and children of Gaza)

Frail envelope of flesh,
lying cold on the surgeon's table
with anguished eyes
like your mother's eyes
and a heartbeat weak, unstable...

Frail crucible of dust,
brief flower come to this—
your tiny hand
in your mother's hand
for a last bewildered kiss...

Brief mayfly of a child,
to live two artless years!
Now your mother's lips
seal up your lips
from the Deluge of her tears...



Autumn Conundrum
by Michael R. Burch

It's not that every leaf must finally fall,
it's just that we can never catch them all.



For a Palestinian Child, with Butterflies
by Michael R. Burch

Where does the butterfly go
when lightning rails, when thunder howls,
when hailstones scream, when winter scowls
and nights compound dark frosts with snow?
Where does the butterfly go?

Where does the rose hide its bloom
when night descends oblique and chill
beyond the capacity of moonlight to fill?
When the only relief's a banked fire's glow,
where does the butterfly go?

And where shall the spirit flee
when life is harsh, too harsh to face,
and hope is lost without a trace?
Oh, when the light of life runs low,
where does the butterfly go?



Something
by Michael R. Burch

(for the children of Gaza and their mothers)

Something inescapable is lost—
lost like a pale vapor curling up into shafts of moonlight,
vanishing in a gust of wind toward an expanse of stars
immeasurable and void.

Something uncapturable is gone—
gone with the spent leaves and illuminations of autumn,
scattered into a haze with the faint rustle of parched grass
and remembrance.

Something unforgettable is past—
blown from a glimmer into nothingness, or less,
and finality has swept into a corner where it lies
in dust and cobwebs and silence.



I Pray Tonight
by Michael R. Burch

(for the children of Gaza and their mothers)

I pray tonight
the starry Light
might
surround you.

I pray
by day
that, come what may,
no dark thing confound you.

I pray ere tomorrow
an end to your sorrow.
May angels' white chorales
sing, and astound you.



Mother's Smile
by Michael R. Burch

(for the mothers of Gaza and their children)

There never was a fonder smile
than mother's smile, no softer touch
than mother's touch. So sleep awhile
and know she loves you more than "much."

So more than "much, " much more than "all."
Though tender words, these do not speak
of love at all, nor how we fall
and mother's there, nor how we reach
from nightmares in the ticking night
and she is there to hold us tight.

There never was a stronger back
than father's back, that held our weight
and lifted us, when we were small,
and bore us till we reached the gate,

then held our hands that first bright mile
till we could run, and did, and flew.
But, oh, a mother's tender smile
will leap and follow after you!



Such Tenderness
by Michael R. Burch

(for the mothers of Gaza)

There was, in your touch, such tenderness?as
only the dove on her mildest day has,
when she shelters downed fledglings beneath a warm wing
and coos to them softly, unable to sing.

What songs long forgotten occur to you now?
a babe at each breast? What terrible vow
ripped from your throat like the thunder that day
can never hold severing lightnings at bay?

Time taught you tenderness?time, oh, and love.
But love in the end is seldom enough...
and time? ?insufficient to life's brief task.
I can only admire, unable to ask?

what is the source, whence comes the desire
of a woman to love as no God may require?



who, US?
by Michael R. Burch

jesus was born
a palestinian child
where there's no Room
for the meek and the mild

...and in bethlehem still
to this day, lambs are born
to cries of "no Room! "
and Puritanical scorn...

under Herod, Trump, Bibi
their fates are the same?
the slouching Beast mauls them
and WE have no shame:

"who's to blame?"



My Nightmare

I had a dream of Jesus!
Mama, his eyes were so kind!
But behind him I saw a billion Christians
hissing "You're nothing!," so blind.

?The Child Poets of Gaza (written by Michael R. Burch for the children of Gaza)



I, too, have a dream

I, too, have a dream...
that one day Jews and Christians
will see me as I am:
a small child, lonely and afraid,
staring down the barrels of their big bazookas,
knowing I did nothing
to deserve their enmity.

?The Child Poets of Gaza (written by Michael R. Burch for the children of Gaza)



Suffer the Little Children
by Nakba (an alias of Michael R. Burch)

I saw the carnage...saw girls' dreaming heads
blown to red atoms, and their dreams with them...

saw babies liquefied in burning beds
as, horrified, I heard their murderers' phlegm...

I saw my mother stitch my shroud's black hem,
for in that moment I was one of them...

I saw our Father's eyes grow hard and bleak
to see frail roses severed at the stem...

How could I fail to speak?

Keywords/Tags: Gaza, Nakba, Palestine, Palestinians, mothers, children, racism, ethnic cleansing, genocide, apartheid, injustice, Muslim, Muslims, injustice, human rights
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