Free Palestine

My entire life, Jews and Gentiles alike have delighted in reminding me that I am Jewish, as though it were a hidden truth that they had cleverly discovered.

But I have worn the Star of David with pride, just as I have sat at the table during Passover and in temple, clumsily chanting the Torah, feeling joy, connected with my heritage and ancestors.

I have never tried to speak from any creed or identity, except socialism. But after years of being told what a ‘good’ American and Jew should be, this American Jew has something to say:

I am told to stand behind the American flag, and to stand unconditionally behind Israel. But I reject both, and those who demand otherwise, I reject them too.

Over the years, I have been called many names for criticizing Israel and America’s support of it, such as ‘traitor.’ I took it in stride. But I’m done taking it on the cheek.

If you smeared ceasefire activists and defended the genocide, I have nothing personal against you. But know that the pen, which I hold in my hand and have entrusted my life with, despises you.

It lurks in the shadows, waiting in the brush, ready to cut down your weak, defenseless arguments, and it has names for you too: political opportunists, moral cowards, and spiritual failures.

For 15 months, we watched Israeli snipers gun down children, as American made bombs and bullets destroyed generations of families, along with their communities, schools, and places of worship.

Make no mistake, the Palestinians own Gaza, in fee simple absolute. They won its deed for eternity, its title free of encumbrances. They won it with their blood, sweat and tears.

A day has not passed that I have not felt gratitude for the Palestinians. They illuminated the world with their resilience. And there has not been a day I did not disdain their killers.

And of all the blood spilled for these holy lands, so long as there is blood pumping through this Jewish poet’s chest, his pen will spill ink, for all the ages, for a Free Palestine.

But the sun sets on this page all too soon. The battlefield is set for tomorrow. I lay my pen down before the martyrs, touch my forehead to the Earth, and wait until daybreak, in silence.