The following poem and image were published at Poetry Online (a nonprofit organization dedicated to sharing literature and art accessibly) on October 21, 2023.
Pocketful of Warding Stones by Rasha Abdulhadi
…
how much of the weight of time we carry
is the burden the murderers gave us,
and whose ends do we serve to hate
ourselves for not dying as easy as they wanted?
…
what firekeeper can scrape
the char of guilt from this burnt offering,
pull air over embers of grief & longing,
find some flint in the heart left to light?
…
how can we untie living grief from the longing
to have done more, and find instead what
more could yet by our breath be done?
…
we can hold ourselves, responsible yes,
refuse a rebellion captive or complicit
confess instead a broader bravery
on which to spend the coin of our lives.
…
we who untangle loss from creation by blowing it to bits—
why obscure grief, why hoard it or hide its face,
as if a siphon could drain an ocean, no—
let them hear the holes when we sing.
…
every death in war is a casualty, no matter the speed
or how exhausted, how unscaffolded the rebuilding.
i know a hurricane who reached through years and state lines
into lungs hearts and bowels, and snatched souls back to flood.
when the disaster of war or the war of disaster steals homes it steals lives,
and though it may take time to cash them, we know where the blame lies.
…
we ward against the guilt of war
the blistered blessing of surviving our kin, and
around the undefused bombs our bodies hide,
we build a larger house to live in.
…
though the house of sorrow be vast,
give grief her rooms to stalk through
let living longing paint the walls.
can we then deny guilt, that rent-free tenant,
the lease it seeks in the house of grief?
…
refuse them victory on this field at least:
our breathing belongs to us
and is not some shame we owe or stole,
or failed to lose like they wanted us to—
our bellows blow to break knees bent over any neck.
…
i won’t devolve the monument of my body
to the keeping of the state, won’t donate
the corpse of my dreaming
to service the desires of murderers
or their gracious paperwork proctors.
i won’t do the blamework for them.
…
our mothers have been here before, they know
there’s no antidote for the poisons sown in the fields of war
but i will refuse the death machine of the imagination any morsel more
…
at least in my heart, the war can’t have you, my friend—
and wherever the last domino of my body falls,
let me land as a gear-breaking wedge—
the murder wheel won’t win my shame.
i won’t let them kill me before i die
and i offer you the same.
——————————-
Rasha Abdulhadi is calling on you, dear reader, to join them in refusing and resisting the genocide of the Palestinian people. Wherever you are, whatever sand you can throw on the gears of genocide, do it now. If it’s a handful, throw it. If it’s a fingernail full, scrape it out and throw. Get in the way however you can. The elimination of the Palestinian people is not inevitable. We can refuse with our every breath and action. We must.
Tracy Abell 
I stand beside Rasha in solidarity ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
And I link my arms with you and Rasha. Solidarity!
LikeLiked by 1 person