Remember the Spilt Blood in Gaza
Remember and never forget the spilt blood
of women, children and men in the streets,
cities, refugee camps and villages
of proud, ancient Gaza,
How they lay in twilight between morning and night
as if they were broken homemade
dolls sewn carelessly by the dry wind.
Remember them, the people and fighters of Gaza,
who like the partisans in wars past,
did not flinch from their spontaneous bravery,
like those fighters who fought from unground bunkers
in the Warsaw Ghetto uprising in April of 1943,
who endured the pitiless onslaught
of Nazi troops, belching artillery fire and tanks
as they entered the harsh walled ghetto.
Gaza, that open city of heartache and martyrdom,
remember them who had no wall for the Israeli hordes
of troops to breach,
who came in with tanks belching like rabid dogs,
ravaging with shells that burned Palestinians and their cities
into a Dante inferno
for all the world to see as nations stood by and did nothing
to stop the Zionist carnage turning the skies red,
completely red with blood more abundant
than drinkable water.
Remember for always the people of immortal Gaza,
who they were
and who we never were.
Luis Lázaro Tijerina was born in Salina, Kansas. Mr. Tijerina has a Master of Art degree in history, concentration being military history and diplomacy. He is a published author of military theory, short stories, essays and poetry. Mr. Tijerina resides in Kansas.
a sad pleasure to read, sad for what has happened and is happening and a pleasure in its clarity and caring. It breaks down walls that isolate people from feeling common humanity, the only walls that should be broken down.
Dear Gene Berson, thank you for reading my poem on Gaza. I would perfer poetry about the more quiet and perhaps beautiful things about my observation of life, but tragically we do not live in such times. Again, thank you for your poignant commentary..