Long Tel aviv Poems
Long Tel aviv Poems. Below are the most popular long Tel aviv by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tel aviv poems by poem length and keyword.
I arrived in Moscow on a morning veiled in silence,
the sky holding its breath over the Kremlin.
Putin’s eyes met Zelenskyy’s—
not as enemies, but men who had buried too many sons.
The vodka was cold, but the room burned with memory.
I said nothing at first—
sometimes, silence is the loudest wisdom.
Then I spoke:
“Peace is not the absence of war, but the end of vengeance.”
And for once, they listened.
We signed no treaties.
We touched no scrolls.
We shared the blood of truth in our throats.
And the wind outside wept like a mother
waiting for her child to come home from history.
Then I flew to Tel Aviv,
where fear walked in human skin.
Netanyahu sat beneath gold and ghosts.
He asked me, “Will they forgive me?”
I replied, “Only the dead forgive without condition.
But the living—they demand justice with breath and bone.”
His hands trembled.
His voice cracked under the weight of Gaza’s rubble.
And still, I saw a man—
not a monster,
just a soul drowning in the empire’s wine.
I called Trump. I called Ursula. I summoned António.
The room was a battlefield of ideologies.
But truth, like a sword, sliced through the noise:
“No one wins in war. Not truly. Not eternally.”
Five hours later—
The two-state solution,
Rebuilding Palestine,
A decade of reparations,
An erased indictment in exchange for a public confession.
Then I boarded a plane for Sudan.
Congo. Libya.
Where peace still bleeds slowly
into the soil of forgotten kingdoms.
I carry no title.
No crown.
Just a pen sharper than any bayonet
and a heart that cannot stop mourning.
Call me what you will—
Diplomat, heretic, dreamer,
But know this:
When the last bomb drops,
When the last child cries,
It will not be generals who write the future—
It will be poets.
Blue-gray the barren mountains of Moab
at dusk . . . a tour bus winds its way
up to Jerusalem, City of God, from Tel Aviv.
How one feels, the emotion, is difficult to convey;
the very mold of earth, contours of land,
grip my heart and I feel a rising tide of tears
sting my eyes. I am assaulted by colors, manifold
and magnificent, that tantalize, pierce
my inner being. The colors of humanity's face
in multiple tones and shades of brown: pecan
mahogany, cinnamon, hazelnut,
walnut, bisque, ebony and tan;
I see eyes of most unusual hues,
the colors of sea mist, celery, black, pale jade,
olive bark, tiger's eye, leaf of blue sage.
This ancient land . . . world religions on parade
in conflict claiming holy sites, the Temple Mount
the ultimate, golden prize. I walk for days
treasuring the feel of this earth beneath my feet,
tramping dusty brown paths and secret ways
in this place where Jesus lived and died.
I bend beneath close gray rocks to gaze
upon His birthplace in humble Bethlehem - a cave;
I mark the stations of the cross where His love blazed
in flames of blood red, marking His lonely, crowded path
from scourging trial to Golgotha's skull marked hill;
and there He offered up His pure white heart
humanity's black sin to cover and my poor soul to fill.
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright, June 23, 2014
The Nurse of Zionism (part 1)
She visited the stolen land
loved putting her feet in the sand
the sand was not pleased
the crushed bones of Palestinian dreams
olive trees burned so Europeans could party
Over three hundred bullets in a six year old
"Its complicated"
Thousand of children slaughtered
"Its complicated"
Doctors raped in IDF prisons
"Its complicated"
Children used as human shields
"Its complicated"
Hospitals bombed on purpose
"Its complicated"
Medical equipment smashed by soldiers
"Its complicated"
IDF dress up in Palestinians women's cloths
"Its complicated"
One will never heal
with a heart so cold for others
selfish, self centered, self absorbed
to the core
Nazis had nurses too
I should not be shocked
The Angel of Tel Aviv (Part 2)
I ask why the ones
with hearts of gold
carry such a heavy burden
of pain, loss and sadness
The world such a miserable place
nurses should carry compassions grace
mostly true
for in the afternoon sun,
the Hanoun in bloom
in Tel Aviv an angel of mercy
restored my faith in humanity
The slaughterer came to the market
Dancing and wielding a matchet
He sang songs of sorrow;
And wrote rhymes for his victims of tomorrow.
He grabs lands at his will
There is nothing he cannot steal.
He has stolen people’s identities
In his quest to commit atrocities.
The slaughterer’s threat is real
With the devil he had struck a deal
To kill those who opposes him
For in his face we are all Gohim.
The slaughterer detests peace
With him the world is no longer at ease.
He spares not innocent children
And he blackmails his brethren.
The slaughterer swims and drinks
From the gruesome river of blood
Of women and children he had killed
In the face of the world’s hypocrisy.
The slaughterer in Tel-Aviv has gone mad
From the boarders of Jordan, Lebanon and Islamabad,
He longs to destroy those he stole their lands.
And return homes back to dust and sands.
The slaughterer’s cowardice is imminent
When he meets his match on the battle-field
He runs to his accomplice in the devil’s own land
For money and the tools of his crimes
And now that we know the slaughterer
That maims children and women at will
He calls us all anti-Semites;
A name he stole from those whom he now oppresses.
O brilliant son of the desert,
You rose through the maze of your House
With precision sharper than a blade.
The future trembles beneath your feet—
But power, untempered by wisdom,
Is a fire that devours its bearer.
Do not chase the glory of empires too fast.
Rome was not built in one day—
And neither shall a just Arabia.
You cannot serve two masters:
The West with its silver tongue,
And your people, whose eyes still hunger.
Choose neutrality not as weakness,
But as strategy.
Your true legacy lies not in gold towers,
But in lifting the soul of your nation.
Forsake not your brother, Iran.
To unite the Crescent is to raise a new dawn.
The blood of Gaza weeps through the sand,
And every drop asks:
"Where is our brother?"
Sunni, Shia, Sufi—one people,
Divided by politics, not by God.
To unite them is to write your name beside kings,
To divide them is to sow your own ruin.
Beware the advisors with smiles from Tel Aviv
And tongues sharpened in Washington.
They do not dream for you—
They only use your night to hide their shadow.
The Middle East can rise again,
But only if you learn this truth:
Real power is not feared,
It is trusted.
Hello Palestine,
have you seen the headlines today:
400 US federal workers tendered their resignation over the war, seeking ceasefire. And a Vietnam war veteran donated his pension to Palestine relief fund. Also at Brandeis the president was sacked for violating US Constitution, and was seen packing back to a Kibbutz near Gaza. Send them back, I say, to disallow infecting American democracy such. Palestine will never be free when those scoundrels have the upper hands.
And this just came in, sky over Gaza is clearing, the mist is gone and plenty of sunshine for the foreseeable future, enough to bring the birds out again, singing to the tune of Glorious Palestine, from river to the sea, this holy land shall always be free from the smug of racists and supremacists, clinging to their dystopia of land without Palestinians. Their days are numbered and nightmare is over, hello freedom, hello justice's return after the snub of cold shoulder for a generation.
Gaza cafes are now open again, markets filled with fresh fruit, and children playing with new toys donated from good will citizens of Tel Aviv and East Jerusalem. It is good to live free again.
save those tears for the solitude of night
alone in your cold little widow’s bed
when gates open to memories flowing
still shellshocked by the emptiness
of his love suddenly gone
taking comfort in knowing
how it went down all so perfect
in every detail of every moment
how he slipped into the next life
like he was taking off a coat
with dignity and grace
because it didn’t fit anymore
stoic and brave
ready
after all
he was the olympian
ambassador in the first canadian team
tel aviv world paralympics
it was the summer of 1968
today they draped his body
with the national flag
as they carried him away
we stood in awe
saluting our last memory
out the door into forever
and now here lies the olympian
among mere mortals
at the foot of mount olympus
the man
the legend
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
for a little slander
The new president of America has told Europe to look after its own defense which means NATO without the USA’s help becomes a boy’s club for retired politicians pretending, they are a fighting force eager to defend Ukraine which can’t be done without dragging without risking a serious world war, they hands are tied since Ukraine s not in NATO, an easy excuse because we know it is not true, but it has not stopped leaders in Europe to hammer their support of Ukraine to get at the Russians although knowing the war could have been avoided but for idiotic policies
Oh, how Europe’s leaders hugged Ukraine to their hearts delivering money and weapons to what was and is a corrupt regime
How quickly they changed tunes when the USA told the truth, mates you are on your own we will not defend you anymore you are masters in your land and responsible for your own security How sweet it was to my ears spoken by a man we vilify because he wears a tie too long for the snobs in Brussels who has a leader that wears her hair as fashioned like a helmet
After a shocked silence voices were heard but the man was right, we are responsible for our security -silly sods- Suddenly -Ukraine was no longer Europe and must find peace with Russia Spring thawed in February, on Valentine's Day on a day when Macron’s and Obama’s wives exchanged glances
For us, we were humbled and ignored it was a great day too finally the war is not imminent but we must not forget the clever people in Tel Aviv will find a way to upset the Apple chart
I continue:
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Only the Gospel is the goodness to be fulfilled,
By the cross tree with grapes and olives,
The medicine for Adam and Eve, yet teens,
Gold with ruby,
The crown of life in eternity,
Worship before the humblest Redeemer,
On Wind of Creativity,
Who gives to be co-redeemers by co-redemptrix Miriam,
Celestial riches for "the poor in spirit,"
Voice from desert, wilderness,
Regardless of rank, is this dignity,
Else mountains weep,
Cities and villages,
Twins of false paradise - "Sodom and Egypt" from the Apocalypse,
Also Paris, Baghdad, Kiev, Isfahan, skyscrapers of Tel Aviv,
Just at the top of the list,
Like the fallen tower of Siloam,
Capernaum, Bethsaida,
When the albatross is on the scene of history and reality,
His pale armor suscitates the tsunami,
The beast that rises from the bottomless pit,
For the root of the other tree of evil,
And people create the atmosphere and earth for Scylla and Charybdis,
Propagandas without the Gospel of littles,
Without stepping on water like Jesus, nevertheless Peter,
Through the eye of a needle,
Dance on sea that produces earth and vine by inspiration from the ribs,
Like from asleep angel's ribs, Dove takes the virgins of virtues.
In Jerusalem, Bnei Brak, Kefar Chabad
everywhere, little huts, though no sod
Miniature tabernacles, laden with flowers
fruits, vegetation, pretty decorations
The Fall Harvest Festival, Sukkot, has come
Jews live in these huts seven days
Though not when it rains (We're not that dumb)
A celebration where we invite one and all
to join us for a rousing 'L'Chayim'
~ sung on the wings of 'a bissel' alcohol
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Notes: Bnei Brak is a very religious suburb of Tel Aviv, Israel
Kefar Chabad is village of Luba Chassidim in Israel
L'Chayim means 'To Life!'
'a bissel' means 'a little' in Yiddish