|Number Of Pages||
paper book 19.99€
In Confinement, Brutal punishment
Poetry that I wrote when I was punished for staying in a callous place.
I didn't plan to write this book; I just wrote when I feel some inspirations come to my mind, but I was punished for staying several weeks in an isolated confine without any facilities. These isolated cells nominated Bided in Hebrew, which exists historically in Jew tradition. Even the guardians do not give you a blanket in freezing winter. The other Palestinian war prisoners started hunger strick for me to be able to send me a blanket.
It is a place to be isolated for hard punishment, so I was again with me twenty-four hours. After firmly and constant demand, I asked for a pen and some papers, and starting hunger strick, I received them and tried to write directly from introspect.
What was my fault? Why they punished me?
Because I called to Belgium embassy about their ill-treat from a cell phone which war prisoners used illegally.
It was a good test for me to understand my power and talent for poems.
I also wrote a new novel with writing fifteen hours per day and night.
I hope you enjoy it and it brings goodness to you.
No God, No Satan Visit me In my planet of 6 sqm
Not as Tolstoy mentioned
Today for the first time
I insult me Two times.
Instead of raining rain;
Even if the shit is raining,
It will pass!
Open place for satan!
Don't let despair encompass you
The weather will be changed
Life isn't always severe.
How many isopods do you count?
From the poem, evil urge
I miss being touched
To be kissed
To be smiled at
to be greeted
Also To touch
To laugh wholeheartedly
To present my love Compassion positively to say:
"I love you."
To hear:"I love you."
I miss tranquility
A cool mind
A little compassion
A bit of kindness
Tiny respect To be understood
A little more livelihood,
How can a human be so cheerless? Hokey-hokey.
From the poem livelihood
Wall dragged me
Even with its full flatness With all stains
Impresses me glittered an attempt to rub my voice
While I am talking through it with other cells in our togetherness.
From the poem, an attempt
I am hiking in six SQ meters in prison cell Alone
I stay in front of me in six Sq Meters of cell stare at me
Moi – meme (myself) I become shadow – mate of me
I wish to be crucified
From the poem, horizon
A little walk in pizza Saint – Marco
Playing with pigeons
Scattering blue on them is good for me
Then riding gondolas
A sense of purple in velvet shadows,
I wrapped in a dirty soldier blanket
Affectless On the topsy – turvy mood
My blood whirls
Dreams change my mood
I want lobster with buttery cabbage Bean puree To lofty again
To now – shape – moment
A full – self – indulge quad.
From the poem, missing