A Mini-Poem of Frustration About the Israel Gaza “Situation”

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Abstract

ict has been simplified. I have friends who have been displaced from the North, from the South (yes, we’re battling hate on many fronts). News of loss more frequent than I can handle. I’m afraid for the list of names this year on Memorial Day. I don’t know anyone whose life hasn’t been impacted in a real way.</p><p id="ef9a">But I’m going to stop there, because this isn’t that. So, read below for a follow-up poem and the link to my first piece, which I wrote when I was in the car alone, and suddenly realized that — yes, I’m afraid. And I hate that I am, and that it sneaks up on me.</p><div id="ff75" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/if-i-were-to-die-tomorrow-3eee8271581e"> <div> <div> <h2>If I Were to Die Tomorrow</h2> <div><h3>If I were shot, killed on the spot, left to rot — would I be villainized in society’s eyes? Would the public in protest…</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*_YI4oGpkd2yUJx-e)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="37cb">Are we more than where we’re born, where we live? Can we learn how to listen, how to be both rational and emotional, can we learn to move forward, can we learn to forgive? What would you do if I were to die tomorrow, victim of an attack, wrong place wrong time? Would you take a moment to see beyond the headlines, to understand nuance? Would you believe the news without a second glance? If I were to die tomorrow, would I be blamed as victim of the crime?</p><p id="1574">There’s a difficult dissonance in times of war. A confusion about what it’s all for, who has which va

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lues, what to believe on the news. It’s not black and white, though in some cases, it’s obvious who’s right.</p><p id="34e6">I miss my friends, I wish we had more allies. I wish there was less death. But make no mistake, from our own ashes even we will continue to rise. Think about which side you want to be on. If rape is resistance, if innocence can be assumed merely by insistence. We need extremists to move the F over and leave room for real strides for peace. I’ll scream into the air, cry into the void, but I’ll continue to say my piece. If I were to die tomorrow, who would care? Would you remember me as me? OR simplify it to some symbol of who you have now decided I should be?</p><p id="b6f1">The original piece is <a href="https://readmedium.com/if-i-were-to-die-tomorrow-3eee8271581e">here</a>, and friend link is <a href="https://readmedium.com/if-i-were-to-die-tomorrow-3eee8271581e?sk=829d6117ee1bcb138e2a72566f693df9">here</a></p><p id="f06a">I want to reiterate that this conflict has no easy fix, that I am not dismissing one side as ok and another as evil — it’s much more nuanced and complex than that. BUT also, there are things that ARE simple.</p><div id="0171" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/some-of-it-is-simple-b94b3a22ed81"> <div> <div> <h2>Some of it? Is simple.</h2> <div><h3>Religion, politics, alliances, allegiances, complex histories — those are all tricky. Being against murder and rape of…</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*_8JN36JsG4y6w7CZ)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

Another Poem of Frustration About the Israel Gaza “Situation”

A follow-up to a poem that sprang from fear

It’s bigger than me. But it’s also personal.

The other day I was driving home at night, and had just heard another piece of news about a(nother) hate crime.

It’s hard for me to really express how life has changed, even in small almost indistinguishable ways that don’t feel obvious on a moment-to-moment basis, since October 7th. The anti-Semitism I see going on all over the world. And what life is like in Israel.

I can’t hear a motorcycle without a barely-noticeable start. I’ve become more aware of my surroundings, without always being cognizant of it. Like when you’re pregnant and you always look around for where the nearest bathroom is, suddenly I’m wondering how many exits a building has. Having nightmares about break-ins. Confronting endless streams of hate online and feeling endlessly disheartened that what most of us want is just to be able to breathe.

That the narrative is skewed and there is so much extremism happening on all sides (note that I didn’t say both sides, because I think there are more than 2) that drives us away from progress and the ability to move forward. That there is so much going on beyond what most of you know or read, that we’re fighting a million wars at once as always, yet the conflict has been simplified. I have friends who have been displaced from the North, from the South (yes, we’re battling hate on many fronts). News of loss more frequent than I can handle. I’m afraid for the list of names this year on Memorial Day. I don’t know anyone whose life hasn’t been impacted in a real way.

But I’m going to stop there, because this isn’t that. So, read below for a follow-up poem and the link to my first piece, which I wrote when I was in the car alone, and suddenly realized that — yes, I’m afraid. And I hate that I am, and that it sneaks up on me.

Are we more than where we’re born, where we live? Can we learn how to listen, how to be both rational and emotional, can we learn to move forward, can we learn to forgive? What would you do if I were to die tomorrow, victim of an attack, wrong place wrong time? Would you take a moment to see beyond the headlines, to understand nuance? Would you believe the news without a second glance? If I were to die tomorrow, would I be blamed as victim of the crime?

There’s a difficult dissonance in times of war. A confusion about what it’s all for, who has which values, what to believe on the news. It’s not black and white, though in some cases, it’s obvious who’s right.

I miss my friends, I wish we had more allies. I wish there was less death. But make no mistake, from our own ashes even we will continue to rise. Think about which side you want to be on. If rape is resistance, if innocence can be assumed merely by insistence. We need extremists to move the F over and leave room for real strides for peace. I’ll scream into the air, cry into the void, but I’ll continue to say my piece. If I were to die tomorrow, who would care? Would you remember me as me? OR simplify it to some symbol of who you have now decided I should be?

The original piece is here, and friend link is here

I want to reiterate that this conflict has no easy fix, that I am not dismissing one side as ok and another as evil — it’s much more nuanced and complex than that. BUT also, there are things that ARE simple.