There’s No Place Like Home, a poem

Eema always said- don’t- talk to strangers but I was

-born a Stranger in a strange land-Part of a people with only one home..

There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.

Dorothy followed a brick road, talked to a wizard and clicked her heels,

my -road wasn’t yellow, it was covered in red

-red the color of the blood of our martyrs red like Jerusalem streets in our fight for return

our fighters were,

mere youths- young lions, were, resistors, were unknown soldiers


Heartless tin men, world leaders

 White papers, boats turned around, Roman, Ottoman, British Occupiers

Our freedom fighters hung and our leaders not hanging around

red ran through our yellow brick road

We are in need of revolutionaries

Of Jews who care more to care than conform

Are we-waiting for a wizard to save us from exile?

While we-sit in University, conceptualize struggle, analyze revolution

Ignoring our own

While we-walk through shopping malls

Chasing a goal that leaves us empty handed–scarecrows–empty headed,

Our hopes for Jerusalem replaced by their American dream

While they-use us as their shopping cart

Sell ammunition to all sides

Play roulette with our lives, marionette with our leaders

demolish our homes in a storm of resolutions

While we-gaze at their Emerald cities

Wishing for redemption, praying for a peace they cannot give

We are in need of revolutionaries, Good witches will not help us now

Only we can breathe fire back into our movement

Our hearts and our minds are already there

No longer will we be strangers in strange lands

but  part of a people, finally coming home. .there’s no place like home, theres no place like home



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