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MaryVentura
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IPFS
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這首詩首發於《聲韻詩刊》2020年11/12月第56期 英文主題詩選「Home」特輯。All Rights Reserved. ©

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Home. Home is if home lasts. — Henry Miller


he was just 18

but I can feel a volcano sweeping along inside of him

misplaced in dormant Europe.


five days was my entire gap year 

between leaving Israel and coming to Germany 

trying to drain those packed feelings

once condensed in the swirl of war-tainted years

until I met M, from Gaza. 


we shared memories, shekels, land of divided time

he was the closest I could cling to the familiarity of the past 

three summers

two wars. 


conflicts create departures

that’s how they blot out “war” at one stroke

this is not my home

I’m here to learn — 

Conflict Resolutions.


rockets wake me up, brought me my dream

Thou Shall Sleep by avoiding windows


M was on the other side 

I was told Gaza means Hell — an imposed shelter

closest to the native soil.

“Our rockets are all home-made.”

claiming with a smile.


while I run in every shelter I could find, 

got tired of knowing “I’m not gonna die” yet still follow the siren,

stopped half way in the stairs

forced to make small talks with neighbours in foams, in pyjamas, in towels,

waiting for the shrapnel to fall

a collective cache;

M lost ten friends — told in a whisper. 


I don’t know how to get over that

But we are in Europe now, dormant Europe;

But what if your brothers and sisters were killed and same generations before, would you hate?

But I was not allowed to have brothers or sisters.


                        I was told they all lie —

                        Best actors are from “Pallywood”.


I saw him veiled in black with AK-47 in woods

     that’s what you do when only got four hours of electricity?

I was told M was making a movie with his friends for a school project

     those friends he lost?


back then we were smoking like chimneys

a learned habit ten years ago in Germany

an efficient way to make one at home. 


he was just 18

too young to smoke like a veteran

when did you start?

     I was told he started in our shared war

while I looked into sky for the trail of rockets, filming it

his friends lost both arms

smoking is the only way to get by

But with M’s help.


ten friends and two arms,

     I was told they all lie. 


he reminds me of Jerusalem, in cars, on the road,

     I was told “whoever controls the road, controls the land.”

that road M was once on

     only guarded in a car 

nothing like returning.

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