What if we could go back in time? Think of all the pain we could unwind We could change the course of history Like a sculptor reshaping destiny Imagine the wars we’d unfight And all of the wrongs we would right We would design a different life And all the broken-hearted would unite To live, …
The first word my youngest brother said was rifle. This was during the opening siege of the civil war. Every sect was fighting every other sect, neighbor against neighbor, tales of rival factionsand broken promises, lists of mysterious acronymsscrolling on the news. The boy who once coaxed me to the rooftopto lie in his arms …
(Spoken word poetry written while returning from aid work to Syrian refugees in Jordan – reflections from a conversation with a child describing their drawing of their bombed-out neighborhood as “a place with pieces of people on the ground.” ) When you’re in pieces on the ground, it doesn’t matter that the missile was blue, …