Gaza
The baby
Wrapped in a blanket
Looks at the camera
Emaciated face
Large eyes
Incomprehensively
Looks at me
I lower my gaze
Who is going to
Switch off
The killing machine
This harvester of
Of death
Not yet, not yet
afternoon stroll
I walked into a landscape painting made of chlorophyll
in eleven variations, and there were no adolescent girls
around suffering from sclerosis, but did see a pale face
in a car driving by, cattle string incomprehensively at
the painting
the heaven was pale blue with hasty brush strokes
of fondly white painted looking like the top crest of
waves gone astray, petrified by loneliness
Rocks too, were green as decaying teeth and sheep
shorn looking ridicules and ashen among verdant
olive trees
As the sun was about to hibernate and night cast
shadows on the silent stage, colors evaporated
I thought of Saddam Hussein, already forgotten
had a daughter who loved him, saw him as tragic
a figure fighting the occupiers
This teaches us one needs not to be saint to be
loved
On a Sunday?
it had been a hot night
when morning broke
the sun was multi-colored
the day was born
and incomprehensively
naïve
thinking it was powerful
and not a mirror
of human activity
It hoped to stay till evening
no such luck
and slowly fade
admired by its paleness
the fog of night
takes no prisoner of days
abort, was hollered
so ignorant
think it could kill the unborn
Abortion
Morning broke
pink rain and colors
Born was the day
incomprehensively
how stupid thinking
it had power
when it is just a mirror
of human activity
The morning hoped
to stay till the evening
and silently drift away
the fog of night
a rescuer
of days aborted into hate
and ignorance
as easy as to kill
the unborn
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