SAUDI ARABIA Modestly cloaked head to toe,

1. What Goes Up, Must Come Down Not a hair astray, nor skin showing,
Written By: Samiha Zubair Holding her head up high,
Thinking of the future,
In that spark, at summit Arms laden with books,
When sky is just on the way and is not the limit Head in the clouds,
Like lime being squeezed out of last drop of juice Lunch, television, studies, friends,
As throne and king, in sweet affiliation, never in truce That is how her day will go
High up taunting the call of gravity Near future, far future,
Columbarium in tornado, reunion with plummeting abyss a Blissful, brimming with expectations.
true test of vitality
Motivation a lambasted frugality, an eternal ignite for those Hey, you there! thunders across the parking lot
who drown You with the black boots the tone is raised
Is in action when what goes up starts to come down Oh, oh, reluctantly she turns,
Fear stirs,
2. DESERT OF DOUBT Flinching,
Written By: Mohammed Omar Watches wrath unleashed.

Watching sun drops down into the sea The self-righteous, bushy-bearded figure,
So much to see Crashes through the crowds,
A life goes by Bestriding his narrow world like a Colossus,
Never meant to last born to die As his entourage hurries in his wake,
Washed up emotions long forgotten A raging bull on the rampage,
Broken waves on a coast forbidden Seeing red as the girl flouts convention.
A dry cloud
In a desert of doubt Necks crane to watch,
There I lay the last bone The crowds are in on the show.
Where no sun to dawn He thunders on,
The police by his side
3. The Longing Stop, your scarf has slipped.
by Nimah Nawwab The tirade begins, gains momentum.

Freedom. Head cast down,

How her spirit Eyes to the ground,
Haunts, Shoulders drooping
Hooks, She listens,
Entices us all! Afraid,
Confused,
Freedom, Cringing,
Will the time come Burrowing into her deepest self.
For my ideas to roam
Across this vast lands deserts, Has she missed a prayer?
Through the caverns of the Empty Quarter? Has she been a disobedient daughter?
Cheated, lied, stolen,
Beaten a child, an animal, been cruel to another soul?
For my voice to be sent forth, What did she do?
Crying out in the stillness of a quiet people, Her scarf slipped,
A voice among the voiceless? An unforgivable transgression,
In the eyes of the Controllers.
For my thoughts, that hurl around Is that her sin,
In a never-ending spiral, Her ever-lasting humiliation,
To settle Her major fall from grace,
Mature, grow and flourish Her offense?
In a barren wasteland of shackled minds?
The mind is strange, the spirit stranger yet,
Will my spirit be set free The rebellion begins.
To soar above the undulating palm fronds?
Will my essence and heart be unfettered, 5. Arabian Nights
Forever by Nimah Nawwab
Freed,
Of man-made Thou Shall Nots? When the call of the hudud,
Echoes through the palm fronds
4. Gentleness Stirred Carrying in their mists,
by Nimah Nawwab Visions, memories:

Striding through the gates of learning, Caravans of high spirited steads,

Wrapped warmly in her black abaya, Crisscrossing the endless seas of sand,
 Rushing through the oasis, I'm white,
Free, yet under control. and Jewish,
and American,
Of women washing in the hot springs, but I,
Sheltered in the evergreen palms, refuse to,
Weaving baskets, be scared again,
Cooking, sewing, scampering after the herds,
Of days filled with toil. let's let the truth be our teacher,
for I don't want war either,
Visions, memories:
Cascading starlight, and they say Jews and Arabs,
Casting its mild light over campsites, have been fighting each other,
The moonlight’s silver shadow for thousands of years,
Illuminating bearded faces, but we are all brothers,
Young boys thumping their feet we bleed the same blood,
To the wild desert drum beat share the same father,
Dana, ya dan danâ we both want a future of peace,
Singing of the pearls in the far away gulf for our daughters,
Dana, ya dan danâ
I doubt Abraham,
The warm cardamom scented breeze would've wanted it this way,
Carrying the fresh coffee aroma, for his children,
Warming, sizzling in the golden hooked pots to fight instead of play,
To the young giggling girls
Shyly peeking from behind the partitioned tent walls. our Father,
would surely be upset,
Flames flickering in the pit if he was looking,
Wood slowly consumed, sparks flying, down from up there,
Dancing to the strain: dana, ya dan dan. so I don't buy,
the propaganda they're selling,
The cry of the hudud for if true,
Sweeps through the quiet morning air, history is to be telling,
To the dawn of a new century. Jews and Arabs,
lived in harmony,
Visions, memories, underneath,
Blown away by the winds of change. the shade of olive trees,
In Jerusalem,
ISRAEL kids studied together,
good books,
1. For now academic endeavors,
by: Roy Liran for,
hundreds of years,
The wind pushes hard through without,
gaps in the ancient, wet pier, hate or fear,
as do assault the maddened, only,
thundering white-hot breakers love in our hearts,
until,
Shady figs send roots to crack politics tore us apart…
the sandstones apart, and in that
shared common hardship, all In 1948,
is uncommonly held together the U.N. stepped in,
with their laws,
Busy crawlers penetrate meandering imperial rule and nuclear weapons,
fissures that have been pressed into divide and conquer,
ancestral grounds by the Western Machiavellian,
passing habit of foreign boots tactics,
let me ask this,
Homes are built; roads are paved; is Damascas the axis,
fences are raised; bridges are crossed; where Abraham's bastards,
pipes are forgotten; wrongs are not practice black magic withcraft?

One day this hard land will all be The fact is,
sand, but for now - life is good the Baptist,
the false profit priest,
2. Abraham's Youth praying to the beast,
by: AaronLaLux left the light,
then mixed up the good book,
 to make wrong seem right, let there,
left to right, be peace...
they rewrote the Bible backwards,
they subtracted good,
and added bad words, 3. Sitting on an old stone fence
they say it's prayer, by: Roy Liran
but it's really evil practice,
fkcn sorcerer magicians, When the last light of a lazy
rabbit in a hat tricks, autumn sun dresses these gentle
but instead of a rabbit, hills with a shimmering gown
they pull out a dove, of silvery green, I almost forget.
"Look,
we've capitalized off love!", Often, my taste buds explode with
or at least, the depth of a fresh bowl of rough
the thought of it, hummus, smoothed by a lemony-rich
"here, buy lots of it!" olive oil, and my memory nearly fails.
"Don't worry you'll be fine!"
Sometimes, riding the slow train from
I don't feel fine, Haifa to Jerusalem, I see the wide
I feel like I'm, smiles of the children of a dozen
losing touch, accents, and it just about slips my mind,
with divine…
that
So I shout with my heart, W
here Is The LOVE! this old country is
Come here my Brothers, mine, and I love it, but
give me a hug! it is not for me.
Put down the guns, to be read on an old terrace wall, holding a neatly folded
let us embrace, flag, looking westward
let us pray together,
let us have some faith, 4. Jerusalem 'A city of peace'
Sadashivan Nair
Isaac,
Ishmael, Hold roses in one hand,
we are one family, In the other a dove of peace;
let us, Let's live side by side,
bless us, Hold together our souls;
all of us actually, Fight our common enemy,
let us, Poverty and joblessness;
break bread, Holy Spirits disappear,
and have peace, From Jerusalem 'A city of peace',
from the, When hold guns and stones;
West Coast, In the name of peace and freedom,
to The Middle East, Kill own brothers and kin;
this is, Seeping red blood
a New World, Flows in land and lakes;
in The Old City, Injured and dead lie in streets;
We've had, Why Abraham's land still seeks,
enough war, Sacrifice of his sons?
we need some peace, While angels appeared long before,
In the land of holy spirits,
As-Salaam Alaikum, Built temples and mosque,
Wa-Alaikum Salaam, Together, under one sky;

Words of the Torah, 5. The rice bowl

and the Koran, by: Roy Liran
Shalom,
Salaam, His fingers roll the white rice,
open heart, three greasy scarabs plowing
open palms, long grooves in the bowl, an
from out of the dark ages, ancient disagreement each, and
we are the New Dawn,
rising above, when he sings, his vibrant voice
with hope, is the Oud of Ages, tough, heavy
and with love, palms clapping hollow and meaty,
let there, like a calloused clay Darbuka.
be peace,
 He tells of the days when a man
could walk his herd across the
deep valley, in the good shadows
of the bent olives and the oaks, to

the spring, where of old a wide

pool was built, and the waters
were pure as the bare feet of
the girls who would draw them.

A man could sit, then, on one

of the hewn benches, and flirt
to the laughter of tiny silver bells,
the merriment of bleating goats.

But now a pump has flowered

pipelines into the dry stone pool,
and the paths are overgrown
with wire fences, and the girls.

The world grew young, he says,

to the empty, cleaned bowl. To

his washed fingers. To his hands.