we are not numbers

emerging writers from Palestine tell their stories and advocate for their human rights

Poems

But whatever you do / do not look up at the sky / That gray sky with its black clouds.
Once upon a time / In a land not so far / A people lived in peace / How pure they truly are!
Hush! Listen closely! Can you hear someone’s last breath / Can you hear it? Can you feel it? / Can you imagine it?
Had not this year gone by, I’d never know / That three hundred sixty-five days unfold / In ink-black shadows.
In Octobers, /  the summer said farewell. / A shivering cold stood at the door.
A year of fear / A year of sleeplessness /  A year of breathlessness  / A year of loss
Enough for me / to see my friends in / Pieces.
O world, have you witnessed what transpired? /  The voices of truth-tellers are silenced. 
It's cold outside. / It has now been two weeks, / Three days, perhaps seven hours, / That I became houseless.
A butterfly can fly everywhere. / Open your window and look at me!
A ghostly city, devoid of life / Like scenes from the movies, full of strife.
As for you / You scrape the earth with bare hands / Searching for your brother’s head among the bones.