Make it stop

Make it stop.

The 21st March marks Mother’s Day in much of the Arab world. But for many mothers it is a day of mourning, not celebration.

To the mothers of the Levant, I am desperately sorry.

To the mothers of Gaza, you deserved better than us.

I am sorry that we could turn a turn ear to your screams, that we did not demand better from our Politicians, that we did not scream as loud as you when the people who ruled us ignored International Law. I am so desperately sorry that we were happy to bury our heads in the sand and believe the narrative that our lives were worth more.

I am so sorry that our worlds are ruled by greed, money and power.

How you will forgive us, I have no idea. I no longer believe we deserve your forgiveness, which you will probably give to us anyway, because you were always better than us.

You did not want to be brave, or resilient, or show courage under fire.

You did not want to be any of that, but we didn’t give you a choice.

I am so sorry and I wish it would stop.

Make it stop.

make it stop

stop the bombs raining down

and let the mothers of Gaza sleep

let them sleep for an eternity

on clouds of za’atar and pillows of poppies

let them close their eyes because

as the old-world crumbles and the new worlds forms

it is the time of monsters and the time is now for the rest of us

to deal with the obscene

let the suited and booted leering men and women of the

killing machine board a rocket to Mars

and let them be stuck in the sky

a permanent red haze guarded by the spectre

of an Egyptian Lynx to remind us of all

what happens when we stick our heads in the sand

and say, no, no not me, no, no, not us

and when the world is no longer a place that pays homage

to a killing machine but rather a world that remembers

to help this planet breath

let the children of Gaza return in starlight sailboats

on the jewelled Mediterranean Sea

their shrouds now billowing sails

to the arms of their mothers who are asleep in the clouds

and let them all awake whole, with the rubble gone

when it is a kinder world