The Submissions Process: Tip #7
30 Dec- Comments 2 Comments
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Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
-- William Shakespeare

by Maryam Chahine
SONG FOR THE MUSIC IN THE GAZA GHETTO: VARIATIONS OF OSHEROW
by Maryam Chahine
Pity the eyes that are told not to cry.
Pity the voices that are told to be silent.
Pity the child whom the world sanctions to die.
Pity the survivors who turn to violence.
Pity their freedom choked behind walls.
Pity their rights locked behind bars.
Pity the genocide hidden in museum halls.
Pity the world's silence driving by like cars.
Pity the olive trees that press through slaughter.
Pity the breaths kidnapped from shores.
Pity the tears that become ocean waters.
Pity the living, dead in an unending war.
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Very good advice in the poem. Thank you.
Thanks for reading, John!