Pre-Occupation of the Heart IV

Posted on 22nd May 2014 in Poetry

by H. Gibrain
for Fidaa


I am not afraid of your guns
I know they are only loaded with flowers
aim them at me and fire away

those tear gas canisters are loaded
with the saline suffering of your ancestors
give them to me, I will heal them

your check points I know
they are there to protect me from myself
lest I lose my mind and forget how to love like you did

your warships and missiles
have killed my sweet child and proud father
now you are safe poor thing go back to your hate bubble

and laugh and sing and dance while you can
when you wake up your dream will be more than you can bear
you will turn to stone then crumble to dust
and I will sweep up after you

Pre-Occupation of the Heart III

Posted on 17th April 2014 in Poetry

How will we journey together
if we can’t live side by side
How will we go on the long ride
if we can’t unravel the tide

How will we learn how to love
If we can’t even play our songs
On the borderline of madness
The other animals don’t notice

How will we reach the promised land
If we keep on stealing it
From those before us
Roots just like flowers’

The Gods are Tired

Posted on 9th April 2014 in music, Poetry, Reflections
by h. Gibrain


the sky is tired

your resilience

earth shattering

exhausting the heavens


the walls are tired

standing so long

family of stones

daughters of suns


the streets are tired

wearied feet of soldiers

exhausted from humiliating

honor and soil


the lands are tired

heard it all before

the occupation, assassinations

summary executions


the mothers are tired

children arrested and tortured

their crime



the bullets are

tired of being fired

sky rife with tears

air ripe with jasmine


the gods are tired

Allah wrestling Yahweh

for a dose of heaven on

a small piece of desert wasteland

Political Asylum in Palestine

Posted on 10th March 2014 in Poetry, Reflections, Self Determination

I don’t mind the too much smoke too much
the tiling and counter tops are exquisite
the rubble from house demolitions
and pulverized minds
everywhere barely noticeable
stray dogs disinterested in human flesh
in the Ghetto of Ramallah
a dusty place I am told
human skin meteorite and white phosphorous
nose food du jour
waiting for the next incursion


pole vaulting the wall
new fad sport
keeping the occupiers preoccupied
sipping pomegranate fresh
from the skull cup of your monkeyed child
lemon and mint overlooking Nablus
your guilt becomes neuroses
Shiraz from Ksiesh
sick on your own medicine
planning the next excursion


you’ve all become the victims
cut off from each other
you no longer know yourselves
the plan to prevent
civil unrest east and west
Damscus gate Jerusalem
ancient place of restructured history
occupied colonized uncivilized
there are no sweet angels
on stolen land


even the artists forgot the art
the politic an inescapable reality
all fighting amongst themselves
don’t have to talk to each other
coexisting the next best thing to killing
on the front lines of UN borders
where the felafel is always fresh
sustenance for the soul of combat
through dance music theater child
feel the warmth of the coffee and culture
homeless in the homeland
the bitter tide of privilege

Little Sips of Love

Posted on 9th March 2014 in Poetry

there is no word in any language
for the way the words
everything is sacred
out of your lips
as I drank ice from your mouth
on top of me

something between a whisper
a moan a stutter of your heart
like your are riding to a wild death
the path of closest approach
to ecstatic beautality

and poetry of course
complete with
fully orchestrated
signopated muscle twerks
the ring finger neurotically
in spasm like cymbal
left hand clawing at my chest
like a cat weening
the milk it never got

you hips and vagina
sliding across mine
like the bassoon and double bass
keeping a low profile
under the unwinding
of the violence pizzicato
played by your hair

and the poetry of course
you whisper into my ear
about your visions
of fire, destruction, rain
cities caving in on themselves
the mutiny of feral animals
reclaiming terra nullius

red sky and black skin
finding their way back
to suns to make new life
in the next trilenium
fucking god themself
come down to clean up the mess
start all over again

as I slide out from
into you and under you
for a new position in the sky
in each others gravitation field
ellipses eclipsing lips and asses
swimming in sweat
sperm and leucorrhoea
as the orchestra winds down
the poetry deflates
beneath your panting
and we all go home

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Pre Occupation of the Heart: I

Posted on 16th February 2014 in Poetry

what did they do to you that you forgot how to love
toxic mimic of life’s blood flowing
father to mother to child unafraid to care
no battle scars no warning cries
just lies that fed your dreams
that you would sell your brother to slavery
bury your unborn bulldozed
bludgeon beautiful baby
in her sweet mothers arms
claim you’re the victim
under your iron dome
claim you’re the victor
over swirls of white phoshor
stealing the dessert wasteland for
what they did do to you that you forgot how to love
beyond rapproachment
you orgasm when the bullet hits the bone

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