To our friend in letters Dareen Tatour

To do or not to do

I mutter a line of verse or two

And I am in prison.

I am in prison for writing poetry.

I am in prison

For muttering poetry

For daring to think

For trying to pull a Shakespeare

I am in prison

Words …words…words… words…

And I am in prison

For words.

What would Hamlet say?

Chains to the sweet?

Cruel to be cruel?

To die to die?

No chance to dream?

****

I am at the stake

I am being burnt

For being here

For writing poetry

I am in prison.

***

To those in prison

For daring to think

For daring to write

For daring

For being

For breathing

Sweets to the sweet.

I am free.

There is nothing bad about poetry

But Israel makes it so.

So, resist, my people, resist them.

Resist, my people, resist them.

***

Everything is rotten in Israel.

It is rotten to the core.

Its letters:

The ‘I’ is not an eye;

They do not see here.

The ‘S’ snakes into my prison.

Ra

Eel.

Yuck!

Look who is in prison now!

israel.