The kind that explodes concrete in rage and fire
Every 40 years after wandering in the wilderness that is Detroit
In search of the Promised Land.
This land soaked in the blood and battles of Native ancestors
At the hands of arrogant men
Attempting to claim land that is not their own.
Still seeking to settle their colonies on corners
Where blues swell in cold onyx skies.
The people walk with flames in their bellies
& ashes in their scalded mouths.
Praying beneath the same sun
As Gaza
Beacons reaching into the heart of the city.
We are Palestine
Pain pulsating through the land
As soul seeking snipers.
Awaiting the descent of bombs.
Searing tongues of heat and fury
Unfurling blood red blossoms of destruction.
Blooming burnt bodies and scarlet screams.
Strangled on smoke and collapsed lungs.
If only the dangling tongues of the dead
Could whisper their stories from the silence
That descends in the wake of Death.
Would we hear them on the wind?
The same currents that carry heartache.
A mother in Palestine
A mother in Detroit
Both victims of unholy wars .
The scores of human loss is an empty victory.
Innocent men, women and children
Running, gasping, wailing and dying.
Their life lines meeting dead ends.
Cobblestones and sidewalks stained
In the universal color of lost love.
Gaza is Detroit
City under fire
As the world watches without mercy.
Our lives a distant sound byte
Eclipsed by events greater than our struggles.
We are not worthy of prime time.
Diminished to rubble, raw throats and red eyes.
Out tears and shouts of terror stilted.
Bitter is this generational feud.
Liberty
How many more times will unrighteous men
Whet their hands in our blood?
How many more guns shall be fired before this war is won?
When the smoke clears over Palestine
The embers cool in Detroit
Will the sun shine on our broken bodies and wounded hearts?
Inshallah.
Inshallah.
Inshallah.
God willing, we shall live to see
The sun once more.
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