-
Boycott the Taste of Genocide – Karen Fletcher
-
The House that Jack Built in Gaza – Jeremy Hawthorn
-
Why did no one stop it, Nan? – Karen Fletcher
-
A Child in the Rubble – Lee Hunter
-
The Emptied-Out Child – Jean the Poet
-
And Gaza Sheds a Tear – Paul the Poet
-
76 Years – Karen Fletcher
BOYCOTT THE TASTE OF GENOCIDE – by Karen Fletcher
Coca Cola operates on stolen Palestinian land
By buying these drinks you give Israel a hand
A hand that props up the Zionist state
Exterminating Palestinians at an alarming rate
We need to know what we should stop buying
So we aren’t complicit in children dying
Coca cola, Fanta, Lipton Ice Tea,
Orangina, Sprite, and of course no Pepsi,
Innocent Smoothies are guilty as hell,
Buying those drinks makes you complicit as well
Schweppes, Powerade and San Pellegrino,
Knock these off your shopping list as they too are a NO NO,
Dr Pepper owned by staunch Zionists,
You want fizzy drinks you need to resist
Volvic, Vittel and Smart Water,
Gives your money towards the slaughter,
Evian, Seven Up and Appletiser,
Profiting along with the genocider
So before you buy just have a think,
Barr and Salaam Cola are a more ethical drink
Boycott, Boycott and Boycott more,
Before you shop, just know the score,
Don’t be part of Palestine’s misery,
Try and be on the right side of history
HIND RAJAB (2018 – 29-Jan 2024) – by Karen Fletcher
(to the tune of Joe Hill)
I dreamed I saw Hind Rajab, I dreamed she was alive,
This genocide just was not true
And Palestine still thrived
And Palestine still thrived
That homes still stood and schools weren’t bombed, That babies weren’t in shrouds,
We did not have to scream and shout
Free Palestine out loud
Free Palestine out loud
Reporters shot and doctors killed And aid workers too,
We demonstrate around the world,
We’re many, they are few,
We’re many, they are few
UK, US they arm Israel and to us all they lie,
But we have to stop this genocide
And Palestine won’t die
And Palestine won’t die
Two Million people are displaced, They bomb them in their tents,
But we will fight for Palestine,
And let our anger vent,
And let our anger vent
10,000 tortured detainees, Beaten, bound and maimed,
Our government is complicit,
I say not in my name,
I say not in my name
From Sydney Bridge, to Liverpool, Ireland and Italy,
In our millions we will march,
Till Palestine is Free,
Till Palestine is Free
THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT IN GAZA – by Jeremy Hawthorn
This is the girl who feels the pain
When caught in the sights of the awful plane
That bombs the streets of Gaza
This is the doctor who treats the pain
Of the girl in the sights of the awful plane
That bombs the streets of Gaza
This is the soldier, all profane
Who tortures the doctor for treating the pain
Of the girl in the sights of the awful plane
That bombs the streets of Gaza
This is the journalist, who tries to explain
And reports on the soldier all profane
Who tortures the doctor for treating the pain
Of the girl in the sights of the awful plane
That bombs the streets of Gaza
This is the sniper hiding in the lane
Who shoots the journalist in the brain
For reporting on the soldier all profane
Who tortures the doctor for treating the pain
Of the girl in the sights of the awful plane
That bombs the streets of Gaza
This is the arms trader, seeking gain,
Who supplies the sniper, hiding in the lane
Who shoots the journalist in the brain
For reporting on the soldier all profane
Who tortures the doctor for treating the pain
Of the girl in the sights of the awful plane
That bombs the streets of Gaza
This is the banker, greedy and vain,
Who funds the arms trader seeking gain
By supplying the sniper, hiding in the lane
Who shoots the journalist in the brain
For reporting on the soldier all profane
Who tortures the doctor for treating the pain
Of the girl in the sights of the awful plane
That bombs the streets of Gaza
This is the statesman, who abstains
And helps the banker, greedy and vain,
To fund the arms trader seeking gain
By supplying the sniper, hiding in the lane
Who shoots the journalist in the brain
For reporting on the soldier all profane
Who tortures the doctor for treating the pain
Of the girl in the sights of the awful plane
That bombs the streets of Gaza
We are the people they cannot contain.
We’ll force the statesman to refrain
From helping the banker, greedy and vain,
To fund the arms trader seeking gain.
There’ll be no sniper hiding in the lane
To shoot the journalist in the brain
And there’ll be no soldier all profane
To torture the doctors who remain….
And the girl will be as right as rain
And she’ll play with her brothers and sisters in the lane
And they’ll try to forget the searing pain
That fell from the sky again and again and again and again
And they won’t see any awful planes
Fly over the streets of Gaza
WHY DID NO ONE STOP IT NAN? – by Karen Fletcher
Why did no one stop it nan?
Why did they let kids die?
Did they really bomb hospitals nan?
Did the slaughter not make you cry?
Why did no one stop it nan?
Did they deny starving people food?
Why did no one stop it nan?
Did the world not think it cruel?
Did they tell them to leave for safety nan?
Then bomb them when they left?
Why did no one stop it nan?
Did the world not feel bereft?
Did they shoot old men with white flags nan?
Laughing as they watched them die?
Did the world not see the horror nan?
Why did the world not try?
Why did no one stop it nan?
Why did the world not try?
A CHILD IN THE RUBBLE – by Lee Hunter
A child in the rubble with dust in their hair
A child in the rubble their screams fill the air
A child in the rubble with fear in their eyes
The bombs keep coming
And so do the lies
This all started on the 7th of October
The same lies repeated over and over
This land it was promised to us
…by our god…. they claim
And in order to take it they will murder and maim
They rain down the bombs on the sick and the young
They rain down the lies with a fork- like tongue
And Biden, Sunak
Starmer and Macron
And every Western leader, that has allowed this to go on
We will not forget the part you have played
There is blood on your hands and there it will stay…
…..your justice will come
It will come at the Hague
Don’t preach to us about zionists rights
Whilst they take away food…. and water….. and life
Whilst you fund them and arm them…. you encourage death
We know you… we see you… we will never forget
Tens of thousands dead, don’t let them become a statistic
Tens of thousands dead….. how can they be so sadistic?
Forced out of their homes… forced out of their land
Persecuted…. and slaughtered… by Netanyahu’s hand
We must mourn their loss…we must say their names
We must honour them by ensuring this doesn’t happen again
Whilst the world watches on…
…the child in the rubble stares up at the skies
The child in the rubble
The children in the rubble
Every child in the rubble……dies
The child in the rubble lies alone… eyes wide…. yet unseeing
And this image is burned into my very being
We cannot accept this, too many innocents have died
This isn’t a war, its genocide
THE EMPTIED OUT CHILD – by Jean the Poet
Hollow.
An emptied out child says out loud
“Tomorrow our time will come to die”
How can you hear that and not cry?
“When I hear bombing I will run towards it”
Running should be for play, he’s only a kid.
A year of this horror they’ve had to endure.
365 days, plus 76 years more.
Because The Nakba never ended.
Exploded babies who’ve barely lived, yet died.
Limbless toddlers who’ve had their first steps denied.
Because The Nakba never ended.
Children deprived of education and fun.
Childhoods stolen by an Israeli gun.
Because The Nakba never ended.
Teenagers should have growing pains, not hunger ones.
Experiencing first loves, not losses from Israeli weapons.
Because The Nakba never ended.
Whistling death still rains from the sky,
Robbing futures and plans, just why oh why?
Mothers and fathers sobbing into shrouds of lifeless kin
Wailing to an uncaring world, when will humanity begin?
It doesn’t stop when you look away.
While the bombs pour down, day after day.
Resounding surroundings.
The endless monochrome of gray rubble
The terror filled faces of all who struggle.
How can you lighten your steps when you already tiptoe?
In case under your feet there’s a survivor below?
Palestinians are more than death toll numbers.
They have as much right to live in safety and free
Not just hoping to die identifiable and unpainfully
I don’t want to live in a world a ten year old girl knows to write a will.
She died, so did her beneficiaries, which should give you a chill.
First they came for, never again, remember them?
Never means never, what will it take to make you condemn?
The slaughter? The destruction? Taking US into war?
What did the previous generations fight fascism for?
Their evil is again spreading, it cannot be allowed.
You have to stand up, shout louder and that time is right now.
AND GAZA SHEDS A TEAR – by Paul the Poet
They won’t open the gates,
For the aid that is there,
For the people of Gaza,
How can they not care ?
As the people are bleeding, pleading and crying,
Starving, bewildered,
Under the rubble, dying,
Bombs, missiles, bullets, destruction at all cost,
Drones, explosions and tanks,
No matter lives lost,
As Gaza sheds a tear.
Some just look and then turn away,
Or scroll past the suffering, I’ve had enough for today,
Oh, how long will it be, until all will be free?
How long will it be
Until all will be free ?
As Gaza sheds a tear.
We modern day prophets speak with one voice.
We rise in our millions,
We tell of a choice.
We bring gifts in ourselves and gifts in our words,
Slowly, but surely, our message is heard.
No more humiliation, occupation or fear,
Our story universal, we’re making it clear,
Because written on banners and flags flying higher,
Is the creed of humanity, peace, justice, CEASEFIRE,
As Gaza sheds a tear.
And then …… a woman’s voice is heard, can you hear her ?
Her voice is heard singing a soulful lament,
From the beating heart of her world,
From her Gaza tent,
For the lives of her her loved ones, now taken away,
And from her broken heart,
She begins to pray,
“Please don’t forget us,
Keep on protesting, until……”
And we reply, loudly,
“We will, we will”
As Gaza sheds another tear.
76 YEARS – by Karen Fletcher
Since 1948 they stole our land,
The child reached out, they kicked the hand,
Bulldozed our homes and olive trees,
Media biased world didn’t hear our pleas,
Brutalised our sons, taken on dark nights,
Imprisoned no charge and no human rights,
Segregated us and built a wall,
Cut off water, electric, they controlled it all,
Stopped at checkpoints, stripped our identity,
Tried to make Palestine their own entity,
Humanity and rights did not exist,
Shot by snipers when we tried to resist,
Children throwing stones seen as legitimate targets,
Bombs dropped on people just shopping in markets,
Oppressed and degraded over and over and over,
And this was all before the 7th of October