Saturday, November 9, 2024

Special Feature: Selected Poems for Reflections on the "UN Report: Nearly 7 out of 10 Deaths in Gaza, Women and Children"

My Dear Friends:


The Herald, Nov. 7: Irish parliament passes motion that Israel is "perpetrating genocide in Gaza."
PA Media, Nov. 9: Thousands participate in Palestinian solidarity march in Dublin: It is the 11th national rally since October 2023 and protesters again demanded sanctions on Israel.

The Hill, Nov. 8: Close to 70 percent of Gaza war fatalities children, women: UN Human Rights Office

Nearly 7 out of 10 deaths in Gaza amid the yearlong war in the region were women and children, the United Nations said in a sprawling report Friday that faulted Israel for a devastating attack on the coastal strip.

U.N. Human Rights High Commissioner Volker Türk said:

... a systematic violation of the fundamental principles of international humanitarian law, including distinction and proportionality...Their wanton disregard has led to the current extremes of human suffering which we continue to see today...

... The Israeli attacks demonstrate an apparent indifference to the death of civilians and the impact of the means and methods of warfare selected...

...The report identifies three categories of children most impacted by the war in Gaza: 5 to 9 years old, 10 to 14 years old, and babies to 4 years old...

...About 80 percent of Gaza’s fatalities are in residential areas, according to the organization, which said the high number of deaths is due to Israel’s use of wide attacks in densely populated areas...


And Israel's oldest daily, Haaretz, Editorial, Nov. 10: Netanyahu's Ethnic Cleansing in Gaza Is on Display for All to See

The Israeli military is conducting an ethnic cleansing operation in the northern Gaza Strip. The few Palestinians remaining in the area are being forcibly evacuated, homes and infrastructure have been destroyed...


I would like to share with you some of my published poems about the impacts of Israel-Hamas War on Palestinian women and children:


almost, with eyes closed
to this shrapnel-filled world ...
a Gazan newborn


between blood of birth
and blood of death
a new life
on the hospital floor ...
a Gazan mother's last look


hospital raid ...
a dead man watches his blood flow
into his children's blood


a cacophony
of sirens, shouting and screams ...
a girl curls up
next to the wheels of a stretcher
that holds her bloodied siblings


Shapes of Truth

in smoky twilight
staring into the camera
a white-haried man
cries out, are you, are you
taking revenge through our kids?

these corpse photos ...
the spokesman with skin
like a newt
opens and closes his mouth:
what about this, what about that 


between his teeth
a piece of hummus-stuffed bread ...
maimed orphan's last meal


                         aid
out of reach              air            ops
                                        dr 

and a dead child’s stare


smoky twilight ...
will starving babies in Gaza
heal the broken heart
of an Israeli mother
whose children were kidnapped


silhouetted
against a town of rubble
Gazan boy with one arm


a girl stares long
at the the borderless sky
Rafah crossing


a teen waves his bloodied keffiyeh becoming Flag


slanted moonlight
on a half-collapsed school wall
chalk poppies bloom

FYI: "The Palestinian poppy (Anemone coronaria) is a non-official but more recognizable national symbol of Palestine. It's red, with black center and green leaves, evoking the primary colors of the Palestinian flag. And it symbolizes the relationship between Palestinians and their land, the bloodshed they have endured, as well as their resistance against Israeli occupation."


It’s peaceful now

M-16 rifles are blooming, 2000-pound bombs singing, and Merkava tanks sweeping the streets.

Gaza is cleaner than ever, clean of blood-covered children. Yet, somewhere among the rubble the only moving thing is a boy’s eyes that look up to Heaven.

a mural
on the separation wall
of the West Bank:
in midair a girl grasps
a bunch of rainbow balloons


To conclude to today's Special Feature post, I would like to share with you the following haiku:

in memory of Palestinian poet, literature professor, and activist Refaat Alareer
who was killed on December 6, 2023 around 6 PM local time in Gaza, in a targeted Israeli airstrike that also killed his brother, his sister, and four of her children.

calm between fireballs
a child, somewhere, in Gaza
looks up to heaven


FYI: Watch the Scottish actor Brian Cox read Refaat Alareer's poem, “If I Must Die,” posted on December 1 on Twitter/X, a heartbreakingly prophetic farewell poem that has now been translated into more than 40 languages.

“If I Must Die” by Refaat Alareer

If I must die,
you must live
to tell my story
to sell my things
to buy a piece of cloth
and some strings,
(make it white with a long tail)
so that a child, somewhere in Gaza
while looking heaven in the eye
awaiting his dad who left in a blaze –
and bid no one farewell 
not even to his flesh
not even to himself –
sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up
above
and thinks for a moment an angel is there
bringing back love
If I must die
let it bring hope
let it be a tale.


Added: Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words, CXXIII: "ripped tents and fireballs"

puddles outside
and inside miles of ripped tents ...
fireballs bursting skyward


FYI: This haiku could be read as a sequel to my tanka prose below:

The Smell of Sorrow

all day rain ...
the puddles outside
and inside
these ripped plastic shelters
at the edge of Rafah

After the rain, at a camp located roughly a mile away from sandy terrain, strewn with rubbish and debris, men, women and children carry buckets of sand back and forth, back and forth, between their tents and the sandy area. A girl suddenly drops her bucket, then sits on the muddy groud, crying. For a moment, she stares up at the sky as if someone were listening.

Ribbons, 20:1, Winter 2024

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