Jerusalem

Photo Credit: Mohammed El-Kurd

(1)

I breathe in

this city

and I pretend

that it doesn’t hurt me.

Jerusalem is home,

even though this city brings me down every single day.

Jerusalem is home,

even though it saddens me every single day.

Jerusalem is home,

even though that this town makes me wish die quite frequently.

Jerusalem

tears me down,

scars and bruises,

tears and sad smiles,

Jerusalem

raises me up only so it could knock me down again.

Jerusalem

is each lie treated like truth,

and each truth treated like a lie.

Jerusalem

is a divine crime

scene,

a crime committed with the hands of the holy.

Jerusalem

is a beheading of the hydra,

a lynching of those who speak just.

 

(2)

Jerusalem

is nothing but their tongues on its soils.

If only Jerusalem spoke,

I would be thankful.

If only Jerusalem said something,

I would live to hear it again and again.

if only Jerusalem talked,

the invisible bruises would finally fade.

If only Jerusalem spoke,

if only the soil spoke,

if only the wrinkles on my grandmother’s forehead spoke,

if only the walls of this city spoke,

if only the lies they made spoke,

they’d say the truth.

 

(3)

Jerusalem

is a woman giving birth to a new life that we might never ever see.

Jerusalem

is the rebirth to this very life we live.

Jerusalem

is what we make it…

so let it be reborn into the truth and beyond.

 

(4)

Jerusalem

once again is home.

A home where the windows are shattered open,

but still there wouldn’t be any air for us to breathe.

Jerusalem

once again is home.

A home where you always carry the key with you

but there isn’t a door anyway.

Jerusalem,

once again is home.

A home where the walls have ears

and the ears have tongues

and the tongues tell lies

and the lies live on.

 

(5)

Jerusalem

Once again is home.

A home where the life had died giving birth to a new one,

Jerusalem

is a fortune teller

telling us we are going to have a happy life,

little does she know that destiny chose to make us live like refugee pillows,

and the anticipation knows no sleep.

Jerusalem

is hopes aborted,

fears fulfilled.

Jerusalem is sirens as a lullaby.

Jerusalem is tear gas as heavy perfume.

Jerusalem is truths unspoken,

or always spoken but never heard.

Jerusalem

is a woman holding her stone and throwing it

in the sky that they filled with F16s.

 

(6)

Jerusalem

is little girl

screaming “fuck this war, I’m going to school”.

 

(7)

Jerusalem

is a man,

hardworking and the sweat waters the hope

and the hope feeds the heart faith

and the faith makes us numb,

but never too numb.

 

(8)

Jerusalem

is a boy

seeing it the way it is,

the way it was and the way it should be.

 

(9)

Jerusalem is I

and I am Jerusalem,

almost collapsing,

almost too strong.

 

(10)

Jerusalem,

once again is home.

A home where the walls have ears

and the ears have tongues

and the tongues tell lies

and the lies live,

but life….. ends.

 

by Mohammed El-Kurd

October 15, 2014 (Age 16)