Where will I hide my poem?
Language chokes,
Falling away from me,
As martyrs in my homeland fall,
I conceal her within my throat,
Letters imploding within my gut,
Like the tears of a girl who had to leave her doll behind under the ruins.
I hid my first poem at home,
Until my letters turned to rubble,
And debris wrecked my words until the poem bled.
I thought my poem eloquent enough to protect my home,
Just this one last time,
But both my home and my poem died.
I hid my poem in my tent,
She suffered from the heat, and from mourning the dead.
I cooled the letters down and hid my poem in the eyes of children.
But rockets found her.
Three steps away from my grave, I hid her
Three steps away from my demise
from starvation upon starvation
from war
Three steps away from death itself
To save her, but
She died.
My poem was made of white blood and of
Flowers I collected from these streets
Burdened with bereavement.
My poem was made of words
Overlooking graveyards,
Words overlooking death.
My poem was a bag holding my memories and this dream of death.
My poem was a girl with braids,
Who became a girl carrying blood-soaked bread.
My poem was an old woman with her head held high,
Who became a whimper.
My poem departed
Sniped by a soldier, conscripted three days prior
Sniped by an armed soldier though she was herself unarmed.
Stabbed by a dagger
that she mistook for a pen,
Killed:
as her lips smiled at death
My poem was killed
And with it, the sea
The streets, the pavements, the faces, the homes, the cities, the boys, the
girls, the teens, the bread
The alleyways,
Our city was killed.
Mariam Mohammed Al Khateeb is a dentistry student, poet, oud player, translator, and community activist from Gaza, currently residing in Egypt. She was a participant in the Hult Prize, an annual competition for ideas solving pressing issues, such as food security, water access, energy, and education. She works as a writer and makes videos, producing content about Palestine.
This poem was translated from Arabic to English by Fawwaz Abughazaleh, with additional editorial support from Mahdi Sabbagh, Meriam Soltan, and Jehan Bseiso.
Al Khateeb's poem marks the first installment of the Gaza Pages, an ongoing editorial project at the Avery Review. Special thanks to Omar Hamilton for his guidance.