IN HONOR OF MARTYR MUHAMMAD AL-SALAMEH

My fingers are positioned to write down my thoughts

But my thoughts ache to send them to my fingers   

Illusionary words spring forth to appease

A concept not unlike a perceived perception

For I can paint a picture of deception  

Make a rainy day look sunny

Make it seem that black is white

Mass produce a sham

To make you believe

But my heart jumps in

To present the reality

To state my case in open transparency

Truth cannot be hidden

To those willing to seek the truth

So I write about a child

Who the occupying soldiers say pointed a toy gun

Truth be told

No toy was ever exposed

A video has been produced

Not within hours but after a manipulative week

On his seventeenth birthday

He was used to intimidate

To strike fear into Palestinian hearts

A soldier will go unpunished

If I shout out terrorist soldier

My heart does not object

For the picture I painted is of the truth

No manipulation need be perceived

No illusion need be seen

The truth is the truth

Israeli soldiers are terrorists

WE ARE PALESTINE

Palestine is in us and we are Palestinians

We are the land and the land is us

We are the soil of Palestine

And the soil of Palestine runs through our veins

We are the air of Palestine

And the air of Palestine runs through our lungs

We are the mountains of Palestine

And the mountains of Palestine is in our steadfastness

We are the hills and valleys of Palestine

And the hills and valleys of Palestine are in our hearts

We are the olive trees of Palestine

And the olive trees of Palestine give us our skin color

We are the rocks and stones of Palestine

And the rocks and stones of Palestine give us courage

 

 

                                    -Fadi Zanayed

                                    March 8, 2012

                                    12:13 pm

(  © Copyright, Fadi Zanayed.  Publication or distribution of this material is allowed provided its content is not altered and the source and its author are cited.)

Crying Out From My Roots

I am an olive tree in the spring

I have come through another winter

The rainy season has made my buds spring forth

My leaves will come next as my vegetation develops

I will continue to grow in the summer

As my harvest reenergizes me in the fall

My greenery dots the landscape

My olive skin is imbedded in my people

My olive oil flows through their veins

I am the agricultural epicenter of Palestine

I am a symbol of Palestinian steadfastness

My oil brings forth health benefits

The first olive pressing makes me extra virgin

Making me a friend of a healthy heart

Those who drink my oil have longevity

My oil is known to block the generation of cancerous tissue

Cooking with my oil is better for you

Those who know zeit wa zatar have cherished me for years

My roots are deep within the soil of the Holy Land of Palestine

My years have turned into centuries

The sun, the rain and the soil are my best friends

I belong to the land

And the land belongs to me

Why would anyone want to destroy me?

I have only benefited mankind

What have I done to cause my uprooting?

I am the oil of Palestine

My branches have survived emperors, conquerors and world wars

My trunks have survived droughts, floods, invasions and war

But I cannot survive the Apartheid Israeli occupation

I cannot survive the Apartheid Israeli settlers

My branches are being slaughtered

My trunks are being massacred

The victims of genocide are committing genocide upon me

The victims of genocide are committing genocide upon my owners

My roots cry out for justice

My roots cry out for understanding

My roots cry out for steadfastness

My roots cry out for education

My roots cry out for intervention

My roots cry out for peace

                Fadi Zanayed

                March 8, 2012

                7:32 am

Fearing A Child’s Mind

A Palestinian child sits on the curb

Surrounded by no less than 4 Apartheid Israeli soldiers

Their rifles pointed at him

He is looking up at them with bewilderment

Yet courage is not far from his structure

His eyes question his detention

Yet fear is not projected

His hands are hidden

Maybe a rock is in his hand

Are the Apartheid Israeli Soldiers in fear?

In fear of a rock in his hand

Or are they afraid of what is brewing inside his mind

-Fadi Zanayed

February 27, 2012

6:29 pm - Chicago

(© Copyright, Fadi Zanayed.  Publication or distribution of this material is allowed provided its content is not altered and the source and its author are cited.)