Don’t Let It Fade

This is poem by my friend Mohammad Al-Kurd who comes Sheik Jarrah. You might know him from the film My Neighborhood that he narrated when he was 11 years old. He is now 15 years. His birthday is May 15, Al Nakba, The Great Catastrophe. 

He is a multi faceted artist. He paints, writes poetry and songs. He is available to travel and talk about Palestine, especially what is happening to the youth. 

If you are interested in inviting him to come please contact him at hausofmohammed@gmail.com.

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I wrote this poem about the darkest and the brightest sides of a Palestinian person's life, about seeing people getting tired of this ongoing struggle, seeing people losing faith and hope, seeing people say "till when?" and about walking in the streets of my city, seeing my memory refreshed, comparing the current reality to when I was 7.  I don't want the vibe of revolution to be over. I don't want the will to resist to fade. This poem is made to be a reminder.   I hope you're reminded. Also this poem is dedicated to my grandmother who is wishing to return and not forgetting that it is all still happening.

Don't let it fade

because I grew up on the echoes of the revolutionary songs on the corner of the street,

on the smell of tear gas like a heavy perfume 

that I never wanted to smell,

I grew up on the fear, the silence, the screams, 

the bravery, life, death and the it-may-stop in any second kind of heartbeat.

Don’t let it

fade

because in third grade 

I used to see older girls and boys walking out with graffitis of freedom on their chests, 

no memories to rest, 

and on their wrist,

there was a sign that said, one day we will return.

It’s the act of burn

that we need to learn

that we need to earn

to start what we fear,

and then make it disappear

enter the gates of what you hate

of what you never wanted to experience 

and start

freshly I said, freshly, 

I said.

Lay your head on the trees and let the cravings tell you the stories of the past, 

never thought it would last, 

but it did.

I lay my head 

on my grandmother’s chest,

as she tells me how my grandfather was a prisoner of freedom and she is proud. 

Don’t let it fade,

this can’t be forgotten, this is forever… 

and forever ends 

when we’re free.

Don’t let  it fade, even though my grandma lost her key, 

she’s still got the house she left in 48 in the corners of her mind 

and yeah she walked and left it behind

but she went to Jerusalem...where the spices smell like the sea of Haifa she left in 48… 

Don’t let it fade,

this shallow destiny feels so deep.

dive in, look for truths to keep, 

don’t sell 66 years so cheap.

Let your soul boil.

When i was 6 I saw the images of stabbed pregnant women in deer yassin, its not over

when I was 11 I saw my sister's bed burning and a yellow bulldozer

demolishing my neighbor's house and now I'm almost 16 and with a blurry vision

and I still haven't forgotten 

let your soul boil, 

a reminder of your mother being humiliated at the check point

well my point 

here is that you were born for a reason.

Let your soul boil 

a reminder of your dad working 5

 to 9 just to stay alive 

it’s not a sign it’s reality

no matter what color my painting is 

it shall relive

the things that happened before so it’ll give

the viewer a wider eye.

Let your soul boil

Because on your soil,

A woman planted an olive tree hoping its roots could contact the older roots and make something wake up,

Let your soul boil,

Make the fire

Build a desire

To be reborn

Don’t let fade, 

And before you try to take the devil out of my soul 

Take the flaws out of your closed mind

The trouble isn’t the way we are

the trouble is with the way you think

You say: Don’t blink

Be silent

And rethink 

Why you should be forgiven…

I say: You don’t need redemption nor do you need repentance 

Just don’t let it sink

This shallow destiny feels so deep 

Sing all the holy sounds you want in the end of the day I’m still gonna sing the anthem I made for myself

Cause all you did is that you left 66 years on the shelf,

I want you think why it shouldn’t fade.

this can’t be forgotten, this is forever… 

and forever ends 

when we're free. 

 

she's thinking why it shouldn't fade // my grandmother a refugee from Haifa