With a lot of harrowing situations going on in the world, and the Arab Spring has officially turned into a year, I would like to share a poem I wrote and had published on Damazine.  It talks about Palestine but it truly reflects any country going through violence and unjust regimes.

May Allah (swt) protect them all. Ameen.

When the Olive Tree Warbler Sings

Originally published in Damazine’s Issue, Summer 2011

By Mariam Al-Kalby

Palestine gives birth to another war.

The warbler squawks.


With olive trees bending in pain,

I see Hope as a cupped nest dangling from an olive branch.

Ashes embedded in leaves, rivers of blood

flows through the cracked rocks of Gaza, does the sun really shine

or is it merely illuminating the starkness of despair?

Are those songs really of love or loud creaks of sadness?


When I see the wings dancing in the air, in the backdrop of bombs,

is the bird dancing in joy or writhing from the shrieks of mothers?


Does the warbler feel the tragedy rising from the souls of the deceased

or is it oblivious to the destruction that surrounds its world?

Perched on a branch, a tear escapes beneath its plumes.

Do you have any poems or written pieces reflecting on war and people?

Worship Poem

The Little Moon’s Reflection

A Letter to Bashar Al Assad

Beneath the Leaves (part I)

Beneath the Leaves (part II)

Beneath the Leaves (part III)

Beneath the Leaves (finale)

The Tongue Sins (part I)

The Tongue Sins (part II)

The Tongue Sins (finale)

Allah Owns the World (part I)

Allah Owns the World (part II)

Allah Owns the World (finale)

When The Doors Are Wide Open (part I)

When The Doors Are Wide Open (finale)

Before the Sun Rises and Before it Sleeps (part I)

Before the Sun Rises and Before it Sleeps (finale)

Fear (part I)

Fear (finale)

14 thoughts on “Writings

  1. All creatures big or small are still
    our brethren;
    the rooster is up with the dawn
    so is the donkey and they know
    they are there for a reason.
    Their death or birth are declared
    In the passing of hours, little
    markings recorded in the face of heaven,-
    As surely as blood spilled on the streets or
    in the cowardly night of silence
    it cannot be passed over
    As though never happened.
    Alone man does not know
    if they are placed under the heaven for a curse
    or blessing.

  2. I visited the area of your blog with “Sid the Squid”, whom I adored, but didn’t see a place to leave you a ‘like’. Considered that entry liked, please. Your little warbler above is a sweet entry as well.

  3. Sid is the little octopus in one of your other posts on children’s books. There was no like button there, so I couldn’t ‘like’ the post. Check out your dash board for permissions on allowing likes and/or comments to open the door to communication.

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