Mom says
I'm an inchworm,
but when I grow up
I'm gonna be a F
                            O
                            O
   ­                         T
                            L
        ­                    O                                            ­ !
                            N                                  ­    !    
                            G                          ­       !    !    !
                            W                        ­  R     !     !
                            O                  a   W     R    !     !
                            R             w  A    w  a   R  !   !
                            M       R a  W  a A   R  R     !    
                            !!!  RaWAwaAaWaRR!!!   !   !
                                      R a   W   a  w  R      !      
                                            ­ w     W   A     !      !  
                                                  a     a    R !     !     !
                                                        w    R ­    !  
                                                             ­       !       !
                                                               ­                  !

Children of Gaza
Still
With trembling hands
Eating dry bread  
Without looking at anyone's face
Eyes lowered
Heads down
Lowered the noise.

Occasionally
Don't look at the sky
Will try to face up
Whole body
Trembling
sweat
the end
Close the eyes.

It fell right next to it and broke
Bomb, Grenade, Missile
The ringing in their ears
It was abandoned that day

in faces
wounds
Not yet dry
Still
They are
Haven't slept yet
In bunkers and shelters
For nights and days
is increasing.

Hugging each other
Crying babies
Anywhere on the streets  
See you

Yesterday, she told me something I didn’t think that I’d ever hear
That life would be changing, all rearranging, and all of it in less than a year
I thought about my life, staring at my wife, wondering if she felt the same
That’s when she told me, honey come hold me, and lets see if we can think of a name

Today, she showed me something I didn’t think that I’d ever see
A black and white picture, showing the mixture, of love between her and me
She said it’s time don’t you think, to buy something pink, or should we buy something blue?
I then smiled at her, said it didn’t matter, I’d be fine with whatever God wanted to do

Tomorrow, I’ll meet someone that I didn’t think that I’d ever meet
Lying there in the bed, with their pretty head, little hands and tiny feet
I promise with my soul, now that you’ve made us whole, to give you everything I never had
And I can’t wait for the day, when you’re able to say, that you love your mom and dad

Given the choice...
There is no choice.
No alternative
To poll your voice.
Be surgical.
Be precise.
This isn't the time
For being nice.
Fight against what you know's not right.
This is the quarrel for our childrens' lives.

No one knows?
Acceptance and defensive gaiety
Sour old bills and chills we owed
Saving the world from a talk, with anxiety

Are we decent, are we found...
For a simpler song of choice?
Taken reasons, we prefer by the sound
Of another kindness, that is a voice...

Western purposes
In the mind, and the ease of a heart
Since to realer cans, and uses
Will such a dramatic survival, start?

With everybody knows
Added courage, in the fate
We directed to the wiser in soul...
Who, try yourself, when the world is asleep?

Ancient men and women, with secrets for pillows
Saked a truer finish to more wishes, than a child could earn...
Arranged in the now, wasn't a clashing eye to borrow?
Saving tears from a chosen may, are we time to learn?

Tales of call and response, to a rhythm in heaven
Like sincerity is to be...
And couth is a walking age, made to fit for a living
Why not peace, love and understanding...?

Would I do it all again
For the price of joy,
The debts of pain;
For the strains of love?
What would I gain?
It could never be the same.
Not better than we had before,
With entwined lives,
With all we bore.
Yes, all that,
And one day more.

Day to day
Lips of values; simpler eyes
Wishes so profound, asking if intellect may?
Deciding upon sharing, a whetted appetite for why...

Is a humanity seen, the better voice to lead?
Quiet bother, the serious
If not the scurrilous; a wish so alive in said...
Solace and virtue, a place for each seldom of hope, curious...

Wet eyes, with a moment to tell?
Why the tear of valor, to make a realm in each, a patience?
Having come and went to wisdom for a word, with hell...
Which has become a raging stir, of what was a heart of vanity, with terror for ages?

Your strength, if not the storm of perseverance
I've seen to be; a dance in the sunlight...
Where a sigh of requite, is no requiem, of vehement chance
A voice of change, that has become only better in insight's mind

An obvious example, comes to mine...
If the twain is to be a champion, of what we know for truth
Isn't a wish the future, as if a premonition was forever kind...
Every spirit of determination, asking what is a light to risen youth?