Dedicated to Abdul Halim Attar, a Palestinian refugee who sold pens on Beirut streets, while carrying his daughter Reem on his shoulders

All that your folks did
Was expel;

All that your foes could
Was kill.

We hang our heads in shame,
Sufficing with the blame game.

Their merchandise: bloody guns,
Your caravan’s booty: loving pens.

Murder,
Their ‘harmless’ hobby;
Knowledge,
Your zealous mission.

They sell sword for tears,
You spread pens for smiles.

Fleeing the clutches
Of the ferocious ‘Lion’,
And the bestiality
Of the ‘Satanic State’.

Angels salute
Your sagacious self;
Saints celebrate
Your celestial trade.

Hey Beirut’s Pen-Seller!

Albeit my hands restrained,
My word and thought I pledge.
Bound I’m, though, to my couch,
My heart is en route to Beirut.


Sep 1, 2015. Edit 2024