Poems by renowned Black leader and activist Julia Wright


“(…) and what rough beast, its hour come at last
slouches towards Bethlehem to be born ? ”
W.B. Yeats, The Second Coming

” Soldiers, sergeants and officers of the Portuguese colonial army, there is still time to make a correct, conscious and courageous decision, to act in your own interest and in the interest of your people (…) Refuse to serve as instruments of colonialism, disobey the order to take up arms against the freedom and independence of a peaceful people (…)”
From Amilcar Cabral’s January 23 1963 message to the Portuguese colonial army.
Source : The Amilcar Cabral Foundation, Cabo Verde.
Thanks to John Catalinotto for his translation and his permission to quote from the title of his book : “Turn the Guns Around”, 2017, World View Forum, NYC

there is
a gaunt predatory creature
clawing and torturing to survive
and thrive
in what it left
of Gaza

it spreads its dark imperial wings
as it seeks to satisfy
its oil thirst and bloodlust
in the endless day by day
of a macabre Advent calendar
as the joyous expectation
of each window
a child waits to open
is bombed out

constrict those under Apartheid
but the assault knows none

the creature’s intent lurks in the crazed eyes
of the Israeli soldiers
who could slay it
if they turned their guns around

this creature –
we must call it by its name –
is better known as Genocide
and it will soon be gasping for breath
close to agony
charged and convicted
in the dock of History

and even though
all is upside down
even though hospitals
have become danger zones
even though schools
have become morgues
even though
drones drown out
the truth and the cries
there is another survivor
in what Gaza
will become

it is the people of Palestine
heads held proud
above the rubble

it is the people of Palestine
spirit unextinguished
with a legion of ancestors by their side

it is the people of Palestine
bearing the land within
and dreams unraped

it is the people of Palestine
marching to the beat
of the worldwide street
inhaling the planet’s humanity
soon exhaling the collective reward
of our peoples’ victory

it is the people of Palestine

(c) Julia Wright. November 20, 2023. All Rights Reserved to the WCWSF – the Wounded Children Without Surviving Families – in Gaza and the West Bank.




waking up to a clear sky
is an exception
taking the time to dream
is an exception
looking forward to a meal
with loved ones
is an exception
looking forward
to them returning safely home
is an exception –
everything is an exception
as long as more than 200 children
a day
are being arrested
and abused
by Israeli authorities
with U.S. help
in Palestine,
everything is an exception
as long as a child
is murdered
while i take the time
to write this

(c) Julia Wright. On World Children’s Day, November 20th 2023. All Rights Reserved to the WCWSF – the Wounded Children Without Surviving Families – of Gaza and the West Bank




For the young award-winning poet, Mosab Abu Toha, who was abducted by the IDF on November 18 2023 as he evacuated “safely” with his wife and young son to South Gaza. He was kidnapped, beaten and his whereabouts remained unknown. The news of his release yesterday still has to be confirmed.
” My son Yazzan who is 8 years old asks me : ” are our toys still alive ?”

Vietnam time
has come round again
Iraq time
has come round again
Afghanistan time
has come round again
in Gaza

this is flag burning time
all over again
this is veteran medal
throwing away time
all over again
this is the ole time of empire’s soldiers
going awol

and I have discarded
my latest model digital watch
the one that predicts the weather
a week in advance
the one that tells me when to breathe
for five minutes
and when not
the one that gives capitalists
the stock exchange –
it is no good
because it cannot let me know
at what time
a child
is being abused
or killed
in Palestine

a child no older than seven
carries a dead baby

a child stutters
finds only half words to say
he saw a decapitated head

a child tells her father
that she has recognized her mother
by her hair

a child caught under the rubble
has held the hand of his little friend
till the end

a mother
refuses to wash the blood
of her dead baby from her hands

a child asks his father
if when they return home
will our toys still be alive

watching this genocide unfold
i find another watch
as i tune into
a collective sense
of life ticking –
the accurate reading
that half the dead
are children
and it is past time
to stop

give me a humane stopwatch
that can arrest
the quickening rhythm
of the U.S. and zionist race
to terrorize and
Mother Earth’s beloved

the old time-is-money
clocks no longer
give the time
and they are doomed to stall
because their electronic cogs and wheels
are running out of
impunity’s oil

do you already hear
the slow
of the tenor bell
announcing the burial
of genocide
in Palestine ?

(c) Julia Wright. November 22, 2023. All Rights Reserved to the WCWSF – the Wounded Children Without Surviving Families – in Gaza and the West Bank.




Prometheus stole fire
for us
from the Gods
in punishment
was chained by Zeus
with his liver to be devoured
for eternity

what do we do
with the fire
he left us?

wanted to compete
with the high risin’ flames
of the sun
but his false wings melted
leaving the paraffin of hubris
on our hands

what do we do
with our devouring rage?

Mao said
power grows
out of the barrel of a gun
to which Mumia humbly replied
the fire of guns
was controlled
by the State

So what do we do
with the fire
we the people acquire?

some Buddhists did self-immolate
but Thich Nhat Hanh
who taught Sister Yuri Kochiyama
enjoined us
to love ourselves

so what do we do
with the fire
burning our own fingers?

Baldwin said
the fire next time
Dhoruba says
the fire this time
but will the fire bombs
once unleashed
know no bounds
and kill our own –
suiciding the children
of the future?

so what do we do
with the gift
of our fire?

Assata says
that the acid that eats all bars –
that liquid fire –
is Love

the Che says
that revolutionaries
are guided by the inner fire
of Love

Coltrane’s fire is
a Love Supreme

our Revolutionary Love
is the un-meltable wax
where an endless wick
is lit
to stay alive
to stay humane
then only
we will win

(c) Julia Wright. November 23 2023. All Rights.


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