News comes of the death of the Palestinian poet Samih al-Qasim. Here is his Travel Tickets The day Im killed, my killer, rifling through my pockets, will find travel tickets: One to peace, one to the fields and the rain, and one to the conscience of humankind. Dear killer of mine, I beg you: Do not stay and waste them. Take them, use them. I beg you to travel. Some days, and these words are mine, not Samihs, it feels like the poetry is being bombed out of us, out of humanity. We need to grab onto something; a breeze, a shy smile, a soft petal, the curve of the line you just drew, just to believe that suffering is not all that there is. One wonders what is needed to push back the tide of fear and the violence it brings in its wake. I send blessings to all those who visit this wall. RIP Samih al-Qasim.
Posted on: Thu, 21 Aug 2014 23:23:20 +0000
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