Long Gaza Poems
Long Gaza Poems. Below are the most popular long Gaza by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gaza poems by poem length and keyword.
Dear Margot
We have never met
sixteen going on seventeen
every child should have dreams
yours stolen at nineteen
I wish I knew, truly
is it evil or hate?
to steal the life of a child
never mind thousands
after the Warsaw Ghetto uprising
the SS hunted and killed all
buried in the ruins
this evil never left the world
a declaration made, Belfor
now
thousands more children slaughtered
their homes also possessed and stolen
sadly those who came after you
learned nothing but hate
they too
are the brown shirts
the children of Gaza weep, then die
hug everyone of them for me
in heaven
A Town I knew
He was born in a narrow-minded town where a Christian
the party was in power, and there were rules for acceptable
behavior by stern people who liked to tell others what
is right, of course, including a religious attitude
a Pakistani scholar who, due to a navigational error
came to our town, left quickly through the town
reminded him of a town, called Laura in his country
The leaders of our town, also interfered with how houses should look, white or pale yellow was allowed
A rebel painted his house red, which actually used to be
a traditional color on barns, the law fined him, said
the house represented a fire hazard.
There were many missionaries around who went to Africa to educate the blacks, it was regarded as a high calling
doing God's work among the heathen
Little did they understand how racist they were seeking
implant a foreign God in a confused country
about what the missionaries called democracy.
Later, when a new political party came to power, white
a word of shame, we who had never seen a black person, except for the cook on a banana boat, so well-liked by the ladies, the captain had to go ashore to find him.
This brings us to the Jews, who had suffered cruelly and
and deserved a state of their own, anyone who tried to
disagree were called ant-Semitic
This was in stark contrast to the Jews we knew, who were viewed with suspicion as con artists
As for the Palestinians, weren't they Arabs going to Arabia, where they belonged
We know now that the Hebrews had weaponized the holocaust
at last, we see the ugly face of Israel
, a land they stole
from the Palestinians
Israel wants more, they need the Gaza Strip,
to construct
a big commercial harbor, and who knows, a canal all the way to Jerusalem
So, what's next for Palestine?
The Hamas, called terrorists today, like the late Begin of
Stern gang once was,
Tomorrow, Quin Sabe?
Two thousand five, the Israeli PM thought there he knew the way
HE had to get out of Gaza, it's impossible to stay
"We can't rule over all these people, and the world will thank us too"
So he pulled out Jewish villages, but troubles only grew.
Hamas took charge in Gaza, it blamed even World Wars on the Jews
Its' first charter said Jews must die, they didn't hide their views
Israel was stolen land, besides, Islam must rule the earth
So they shot rockets and dug tunnels, intifada given birth
Now I look at incentives, when I view the Middle East
Israelis look around, outnumbered in the very least
There's also the west, which they need as a friend
The incentives are to minimize conflict, on that you can depend.
But for Hamas, the incentives are the reverse
The more bloodshed, the more Western activists curse
Like "F Israel" or "death to the IDF"
There's a spirit afoot out here, you can feel its fiery breath.
Activists say "genocide," but they said it even before
that Israel responded to October 7 with a reluctant war
Its urban warfare, a place no soldier wants to be
But Hamas wants the country, from the river to the sea.
You can argue that the Jews have no business being there
Just because they ruled 2000 years ago, to you it's still not fair
But use your brain, genocide is not the goal, in this desperate fray
Since it started Gaza's population grew, says the CIA.
People die, don't get me wrong, in every western war
men, women, children, war is hell at the core
But be honest, see what's happening, it should be a matter of pride
To see reality as it is, rather than join the chant of "genocide".
As spoken by the Voice of Wisdom
O House of Israel,
Heed the sound of the wind that carries ancient truth across the sands of time.
Once you wandered through deserts and kingdoms,
Once you suffered at the hands of empires and tyrants,
And the world wept for you—
So great was your sorrow that even your enemies offered you a home among strangers.
In the year of man, 1948,
Your banner rose among nations, a fig tree reborn.
You were embraced not with steel,
But with sympathy,
Not with fire,
But with the open palms of those who knew grief.
Palestine did not draw sword at your arrival—
The people opened their gates.
Arab hearts, once warm, extended olive branches,
Their tongues tasting of hospitality, not hatred.
The children of Ishmael made room for the children of Jacob.
But tell me, O Israel,
Where has your wisdom gone?
Have you not read the Psalms of David?
Did Moses not teach you the weight of the stranger’s tears?
You were welcomed, yet you conquered.
You were protected, yet you occupied.
You turned the promise of sanctuary
Into an empire of watchtowers and blockades.
Your defense turned into offense,
Your wall of safety became a prison for others.
The same anguish you once endured,
You have now inflicted.
And now behold—
The desert echoes with bitterness,
The blood of children calls from the soil of Gaza,
And the ancient prophets tremble in their graves.
The nations, once silent, begin to whisper.
The Middle East, 473 million strong,
Watches and waits, wounded and awakened.
Will seven million stand against the tide of centuries?
The covenant you had with justice—
You have traded for iron domes.
But remember, O Israel:
Peace was your greatest weapon,
Wisdom your strongest shield.
But you drew the sword, and now the sword returns.
Do not say you were not warned.
For as the African proverb says,
"The hyena called the ants, and the ants beat him to death."
O land of Abraham,
You still have time to choose the path of peace.
Not all gates are yet closed.
The Lion and the Lamb may still lie together.
But know this—if pride be your compass,
Then desolation shall be your inheritance.
The future does not belong to those who conquer,
But to those who reconcile.
Let wisdom return to Jerusalem,
Lest Jerusalem fall again.
Every forty-five minutes, thirty children vanish—
not into memory, but into blood and rubble.
The soil of Gaza drinks the tears of mothers,
while those in power sip wine behind closed doors.
This is not war.
It is business—
and crime is its most profitable currency.
Why should we entrust justice to those who profit from injustice?
Why should we plead with architects of slaughter
to build peace?
Let it be known:
The empire that funds the weapons
shares the guilt of the one who pulls the trigger.
When America ships arms to Israel,
it signs the death certificate of a child
who never learned to speak.
To the global citizen,
now is not the time for hope alone—
now is the time for strategy.
Cut the veins through which the war machine feeds.
Let the dollar fall if it must,
for a new world can only rise from collapsed empires.
Cease all exports to the occupier.
Boycott every brand tainted with blood.
Let China hold its rare earths in silence—
deny them to all who oil the gears of genocide.
This is not a poem.
It is a blueprint.
This is not sorrow.
It is the sword of sorrow sharpened into action.
Palestine will not be freed by tears,
but by united will.
And the day the world says No more—
the bullets will silence,
and the children of Gaza will rise
not from graves,
but from schools,
from gardens,
from the sunlit dreams they have not yet known.
I have always admire hair waves back then,
My hairstyles speak of culture far the sea...
A place I dream but I have always pen;
Maybe if not wrong, my country would be
Just like her, one day.
Visa henceforth, won't delay...
What government portray.
My swags recount past familiar legends
Of insightful pride taking love's guardian,
Haunting down ego to help all survive...
The beast of time, change and grace-- being alive.
Just as fierce as fire,
Dreams keep whole, intense desire
Burning to acquire...
My stepping while on every walk seems cool,
As though I am a peacemaker cum chaos...
That film beasts tempting forsaking wrath's tool,
Ego had long abandoned to hamas.
Just as Gaza cries,
Daily for relieving sighs...
To bring war's demise.
Only my wallet has never, not once
Envelope dollars with handy texture,
That holds transformation to trusty bunce...
Cum life cycle's change- an adventurer.
Just like chance stakes luck,
Fate's creation plays faith dumbstruck
Cum enough havoc.
My supposed tribal marks leads on dispute,
Betwixt my parents; each for a nice take
Arguing her stand of him to bail repute.
How early I am ancestral heartbreak!
Just wondering why so,
Yoruba looks Igbo pro...
My look shines aglow.
For 75 years Israel has offered peace to her neighbors
the Arab response, 'Never!' -- be Israel's leaders Likud or Labor
From 1948 to 1967, before 'territories,' before 'occupation'
when Israel was an almost indefensible sliver of a nation
The Arabs promised time and again to 'throw the Jews into the sea'
There was no 'West Bank' or Gaza, they meant Haifa and Tel Aviv
From ’48 on, Egypt and Jordan have kept Palestinians in refugee camps
And, O, how the pressure from the world has climbed up the ramp
Zionism became racism, Jews the ‘evil oppressors’
In 1956, ’67, ’73, ’82, ’87, 2000, the Arabs waged war and intifadas to
become our successors
Under Rabin and again under Barak, Israel offered Palestinians a state
over 90% of Gaza and the ‘West Bank,’ Pres. Clinton said ‘That’s great!’
But Yasir Arafat said Never! His one and only goal was to kill all the Jews
--It had gotten to be depressingly old news
In 2005, Arik Sharon pulled out of Gaza, no more ‘Israeli occupation’ there
What happened next? Hamas took over, but the world didn’t care …
In 2023 Israel’s still termed ‘the occupier’ – by Arab sympathizers
But after the Oct. 07 atrocities, the game’s up for them
~ 75 years of peace offers just expired
Speechless at Auschwitz
by Ko Un
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
At Auschwitz
piles of glasses
mountains of shoes ...
returning, we stared out different windows.
Ko Un speaks for all of us, by not knowing what to say about the evidence of the Holocaust, and man's inhumanity to man.
Ko Un was speechless at Auschwitz.
Someday, when it’s too late,
will we be speechless at Gaza?
—Michael R. Burch
Keywords/Tags: Holocaust, Auschwitz, antisemitism, inhumanity, brutality, terror, mass murder, genocide, infanticide, matricide, ethnic cleansing, Gaza, racism, Zionism
America,
the tides warned you.
What rises
must fall.
The eagle taught you.
Even the highest flight
returns
to the dust.
Your season
was long.
Your shadow
was wide.
But every empire
is a candle.
And candles
burn out.
You called yourself
father of the world—
yet seldom wise,
often proud,
always loud
in the theatre of war.
You built power
not with harmony,
but with fire.
Not with truth,
but with thunder.
From Asia
to Europe,
your fingerprints
are on the ashes.
Bombs you deny.
Wars you ignite.
All in the name
of peace.
But peace
never recognized
your hands.
Japan remembers
the sky splitting open.
Ukraine remembers
the whisper behind the guns.
Gaza knows
the price
of your silence.
America,
you became a nation
that feeds
on conflict.
A war-economy
calling itself
a dream.
But dreams fade
when other dreamers wake.
China rises.
Others follow.
The world shifts
while you cling
to old crowns.
Be humble now.
For no empire
can command
the turning of time.
And if you refuse
the truth—
history will drag it
to your doorstep.
Then you will wander
like a blind man
in a dark room,
searching for a black cat
that was never there.
This is the sorrow
of power.
This is the fate
of pride.
America—
bow to the wind.
Your era
is ending.
Let wisdom
lead what comes next.
If we are the sheep,
then leaders must be shepherds,
guiding us to rest, to water, to fulfillment.
But if they fail—
what is the need to follow them into deserts of despair?
The world is broken not by famine of bread,
but by famine of vision.
Men with poverty of ideas sit in the driver’s seat,
and we wonder why the cart of progress
is overturned upon the stones of war.
Three years, Russia and Ukraine still bleed.
Since October 7th, Gaza weeps—
women and children carried daily to the grave.
Libya trembles in chaos,
Sudan and Congo drown in rivers of blood,
and still the blind shepherds beat the drum of power.
O common masses—
you are royal sheep,
yet you bow to thieves crowned as kings,
to criminals draped in the garments of leadership.
Why do you let them run the show?
Why follow the blind into a ditch,
when you know the path ends in ruin?
True leadership is not tyranny nor theater—
it is hope, it is progress.
But hope has been strangled by greed,
progress sold at the market of corruption.
Until the sheep unite,
until the shepherd is judged by the flock,
the ditch will be our inheritance,
and the blood of nations
will remain the ink of history.