"...And that is to Resist!"

We have stumbled upon this gem of a poem and instead of hoarding it forever and for more, we decided to share it with you. The voice of this poem is Nader Abusumaya, an Arab American living in Chicago.


I was told 2 wrongs don’t make a right, but four rights make a box,

enclosed fixtures, locked and guarded wit 8 shot glocks.
I don’t got no time for circular motions, floating ideas, or miracle potions
Notions that prologue status quos, like armed Israeli soldiers facing sling shots wit stones
Or eighty year old souls clutching keys and deeds
Watching TVs that praise progress made for this so-called Mideast peace
Yo, I aint progressive, or idealist, a neo-con or a realist
I’m a straight aiming, steady-shot, hip hop in my veins, one stop shop, chip off the whole block
My moms and pops dropped
Their third seed on the 13th of September
Instilled nationalistic pride,
Instead of Santa, I’m sending letters to Palestine but they come back return to sender
maybe I forgot a stamp, or misaddressed it, I swore man I double checked it,
maybe that’s it….my mistake….next time fuck a pencil, im using some shit wit ink
permanently written, this time no excuses….but same story man, damn, this shits useless
Like Palestinian passports, or broken seatbelts going 85 on a head on crash course
Ha, that was funny….. like axis of evil comedy tours, but instead of punch lines I'm coming through rapidly wit force
Last resorts are plenty to come by….as this thick tear gas prevents me from seeing the sunshine
Learning to keep one eye open in my deep sleep
But I don’t got a good view as if im sitting in the cheap seats
Wit Bloody noses, IDF soldiers scattering crowds faster than white cops wit fire hoses
6 day wars imploded on contact, serine summer days voided like contracts,
I’ma combat erroneous facts, like mislabeled maps, I’m taken it back like spinal taps
You steady denying my existence? Calling me stubborn, but I am UNDENIABLY persistent,
I believe in One land for Muslims, Jews, and Christians
Olive trees, donkeys and chickens
Rolling hills, mountains, breathtaking views, unrestricted family visits
I’m all about Freedom fighters, graffiti writers, grass roots organizers
Minors that refuse the violence
Instead climbing Apartheid walls, slinging rocks and South African diamonds
I gotta deal with stagnated politics, fancy rhetoric, leaders falling asleep at the wheel like truck drivers on sedatives
The revolution will not be televised, instead I’ma blast fax it
My space alerts, facebook, and text messages, but that’s it
Its that quick, even faster than Zionist bastards reloading Uzi clips
Loosening grips of the nooses, I got my mind set on starting the next movement
From Palestinian streets in Jenin, Abu Qash, Tul Karem, Haifa, to beit Jeeze
to these chi town streets
Biting back the hand that feeds you,
or in this case
we fighting the man that’s evil
imperialistic prerogatives cramping my style?
Got me Hell bent on revenge, as I rage inside wit a half smile
As I stretch out my right arm and clutch a fist
We only got one option comrades
And that is
To resist!


thanks to kabobfest