A Shriek from Gaza!

My mom didn’t know anything!
She though married this spring,

and sent me to the world,
With a rag I was furled,

Dreaming of my willing days,
and my parents to amaze.

My first day was in the Strip,
where I got my citizenship,

Where pain is created,
and siege is predicated,

It was in the crowded city,
Where joy is never pretty.

I was sick and infected,
My pain, I already accepted,

I am only less than a year,
But suffering, I can’t bear.

So, I mourned to get my remediation,
and to have my last operation,

outside the decade-long blockade,
that by politicians was made,

I was banned from traveling,
and everything was raveling,

I thought of what my crime was,
I am sure nothing bad I cause,

Waiting for long months, I died!
Luckily, my parents buried me inside,

Waiting for hundreds of weepy kids,
Who became, for politics, games and bids,

Mohammed Arafat



My Blood on Row

For them…

My blood was always on row to be shed,

also my body from my toe to my head,


My human rights they have taken,

and they accused me of being mistaken,


In my nation, democracy has already died,

Peace efforts were as well put aside,


With my brothers, they sent me to school,

They thought we would be really fool,


We learnt how to write and how to read,

But sadly, we did not know how to rebel or to lead,


With their euphemism, our mouths are shut,

If we speak up, everything will be cut,


Their obedient slaves, they want us to be,

To worship them and with shame to knee,


Yet, we don’t care about our life,

But my country has an endless strife,


It needs our belonging, love and care,

and in its lanes to spread justice to be fair,


 Mohammed Arafat




When They Cuffed Me!

When they Cuffed me
Masters came from the East and West,

Promising to make my Africa the best,
Through rivers and seas they came,

Leaving no one, them, to blame,
With their ships, canons and guns,

With their hatred which was in tons,
They came calling themselves whites,

Making their promises our favorite lights,
Inside our reeds they occupied,

Considering it a honor and a pride,
Elites entered my family tent,

Where the best centuries we spent,
They kidnapped my brother,

And raped my ill mother,
They killed my old dad,

And stole everything we had,
One of them looked at me,

Asking me to beg him and knee,
I had no choice, and I did,

I felt like a little dog and a kid,
They called me Negro and black,

Together, they started to attack,
I trembled, bled and cried,

Hiding my feelings deep inside,
With his foot, one began to kick,

The other beat me with a stick,
I surrendered, and breathed,

My body, they collected and wreathed,
I was moved to a big ship,

To be ready for the worst trip,
In a metal box I was put,

Cuffing my hands to my foot,
We reached the other shore,

Hundreds were with me and more,
To a slavery market we were taken,

Like trees in autumn we have shaken,
“You will go to hell.” I was told,

I saw a sign of, “To Be Sold!”
A white humble man bought me,

For one, two pounds or three,

Uncuffing me, he sat me free,

I asked why like that he would be,

He said, “We are one, he or she!”

“Freedom, all deserve like thee.”
Mohammed Arafat


Destiny knocks our doors

Destiny knocks our doors،
to interrupt our childhood،
to silence us,
and never speak up!
Destiny is created for us,
only for us!
It keeps knocking our doors,
but we refuse to open them!
Actually, we try not to let it in,
but it wants to!
It refuses to let us dream,
Yet, we believe in destiny…

Six-day War Anniversary


Tension became dangerously heightened,
And hopes of freedom were tightened,

On June 5th, five Arab states with honor heated,
For six days, they were merely defeated,

The Gaza Strip, Israel occupied,
Including the West Bank, the honor died,

East Jerusalem also had its share,
From Jordan it was taken with a surprising stare,

Sinai captured from Egypt on that day,
It was easy that no one had a say,

Syria lost its Golan Heights,
During those all-out fights,

Refugees started to flee,
To the river or to the sea,

Not knowing where to go,
They just followed the flow,

On 11th, a ceasefire was signed,
For most Arabs, it was unkind,

Losses were badly shocking,
And refugees were still flocking,

June 5th, 1967, a day not to forget!

Mohammed Arafat

Neither yellow nor green


A regime here and another there,

Justice we neither have nor fair,


Divided into two isolated strips,

We are like Tom and Jerry,

To reach unity, we require millions of steps,

Our dignity, they are ready to bury,


For a decade, we have been patient,

People are sick and badly patient,
On media, someone declared and said,

“We can stand another bunch of lean years,”

While he has everything, from toe to head,

Though, we can’t speak up due to the fears,


Another besieged us with the international complicity,

Cutting water, salaries and even the electricity,


They dried Palestine up,

Dividing its flag into parts,

From our blood, they need a cup,

In order to color their fake charts,


Like an extremist’s wife, we are controlled,

Our sight, talk and breath they hold,


Palestinians and only Palestinians we are,

We are never Yellow or Green,

From patriotism they are so far,

People like them, we have never seen,


Mohammed Arafat