Camp David Sentiments

(This poem was written on December 4, 2011)

The scene was set in the summer of 1978

President Carter invited Middle East rivals

To Camp David for more than a debate

But Egypt and Israel were the only arrivals

I felt then as I do now

That the PLO missed an opportunity

I could not understand how

How Palestinians could than avoid scrutiny

To dramatize our plight and gain international recognition

PLO member organizations did acts

Like the Munich Olympics’ devastation

I call it as it is, these are the facts

Attending the summit I stated

Would legitimize our struggle

For this I was actually hated

I was in a political toggle

Yasir Arafat had no agenda to hatch

As Israel refused to participate with a PLO delegation

Israel will only accept PLO members if they were to attach

To attach to a Jordanian configuration

There was a call to accept UN Resolution 242

And to amend the PLO charter

In exchange for US recognition and credibility too

But Arafat’s reluctance took us backwards and farther

The outcome of Camp David was a tragedy

Begin offered autonomy after 5 years

Isolated Egypt as if it were a commodity

And thereby dividing Arab unity with shears

In 1980 I advocated for Israeli recognition

When I visited the University of Illinois campus

I was confronted with dejection

Called a traitor, ruffled and put in a fuss

Camp David was not ideal I must admit

But Palestinians did not participate

Its fate could have been refit

I wonder, as I sit here and meditate

Fadi Zanayed

December 4, 2011

8:04 am

Pre-Camp David Sentiment

(This poem was written on December 4, 2011)

As a youngster in the 1970s I wanted to know

So I listened to the news at every avenue

Sat and engrossed myself about our foe

No end was the limit of my mind’s view

I read articles about Palestine

In magazines, newspapers and books

Listened as elders would discuss after we did dine

A discussion on Palestine was bait on hooks

Elders cheered as hijackings took place

But I knew that it was wrong

Frustration was painted on their face

As their chins dropped making it long

As I reflect about my father and his generation

They lost Palestine, not one fought in the 1948 war

Not one of them reminisced about an inspiration

Not one story about a military story or something more

Recently I learned of an Iraqi Colonel’s 1948 story

His command was attacking and gaining strength

Without cause his orders came from a phony

A King ordered him to cut the rope’s length

Black gold was pouring out of the Gulf’s well

Using it to our advantage should have been a plan

The Arab Oil Embargo of 1974 they tried to sell

Long gas lines exasperated the American

During the Yon kipper War, OPEC wanted to drive a wedge

Between America and Israel

But it really did strengthen Israel’s edge

Their powerful lobby was and still is for real

So in 1978 this was the scene before Camp David

As Sadat, Carter and Begin met

Tensions were very vivid

And my hopes were set

Fadi Zanayed

December 4, 2011

5:19 am

Jenin

(This poem was written in 2010.)

The reader may not want to read this poem

For the descriptions herein may make you cry

It may even move you away from your apathy

So if you are prepared to activate your soul, continue to read

But if you are going to read this poem and walk away

Walk away without any feeling--then stop, stop right here

Last night I received an email

Horrific pictures of an atrocity

Inflicted by a people, mighty as can be

Against a defenseless people, weak as can be seen

There is this one picture out of many that horrifies me

It is of a dismembered body part that is unrecognizable

Is it a leg or an arm?

Is it a part of a stomach, buttock and leg?

Is it parts of the legs and half a buttock?

You cannot really tell

The middle part of this body part is missing the skin

Internal organs or intestines or bones or all three are exposed

The color red is significantly present

The curvy maligned internal parts render the severity of the atrocity

What barrage of shells exploded upon this body?

Was it a guided missile?

Why would a missile hit this person?

What did he or she do to deserve this dismemberment?

Is it a part of a child?

A mother

A grandmother

A sister

On the other hand, is she a mother, grandmother, sister all in one?

Is it your brother?

Your father

Your grandfather

On the other hand, is he a father, grandfather, brother all in one?

Do you care? 

Look And Tell Me

 LOOK AND TELL ME

13 year old Palestinian girl, Waad Tamimi, confronts Israeli terrorist soldiers. 

Look at the determination in this young Palestinian girl's eyes,
Look at her clinched fist of rage,
Look at her posture...so brave,
Look at her fortitude, courage and strength,
Look at her grit, perseverance and bravery,
Look at the lack of fear that she exhibits,
Then tell me whether she can be your child,
Tell me if you are proud,
Tell me if within your comforts you realize,
Tell me if you realize the human element,
Tell me if you understand the occupation,
Tell me if you understand the dehumanization of a people,
Tell me if you know that Israeli soldiers are terrorists,
Then tell me if you are doing anything about what you know

(  © 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.)

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