Bridget Quigg
Authenticity

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Authenticity, elusive every day, I search for ways to find it

Underneath my skin my soul life begins, the answers in every moment

Carving out a way to validate my intuition, oooh

To say, this is mine and I am fine, I’m going to claim it

Oooooh…

Authenticity, to be deeply free, living in my alignment

Lonesome clarity and bravery, beyond all mainstream

My truest friend, right in the end, my greatest teacher, oh

It may look strange, it’s not from my brain, but this is how I feel most sane

Ooooh…

Oh say, can you see, I am truly free, what others see, is my purity, ooooh

Kind to my heart, honest from the start, staying inside my own dream, oooooh

Being unafraid, these things unpaid, so valuable to me

Won’t walk away, I sit and stay, and let all be

Oooooh…

Authenticity, always calling, with each clue you send me

To feel the day, send doubt away, it’s my heart you are mending

Giving all I am to all I am, moment to moment, oh

This ungainly world, can’t rule this girl, and I know it, oooh

—

Abdallah (Abde) Elshafei
Shattered Glass

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Ceasefire Now

Free Palestine

Kim Schrier doesn’t care about the

Palestinian Child

A three by four foot handmade flag

These were our first Rally Signs

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Salaam, my friends

No one is listening

Why aren’t you screaming like me?

Why aren’t you calling our leaders?

Have you seen the bodies?

Parts of Human Beings

—

Why aren’t you calling our leaders?

Have you seen the children

Tiny parts of human beings

—

Shattered Glass

Shattered Dreams

Broken bones

Broken wings

The songbird sits too tired to sing

In her home in Falastin

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The songbird sits too tired to sing

In her tent in Falastin

—

The Sniper sits

On the hill

Where our grandparents used to dwell

Protected by a Wall of Hate

And the Entire United States

—

The Sniper’s scope

Trained and cold

Gazes down on the city below

A small child with a flag

The sniper’s bullet

And a grave

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A small child with a flag

The Sniper’s Bullet

And a grave

—

(Musical Interlude)

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What once was up

Now is down

Homes of rubble strewn on the ground

We lift our pot and turn it upside down

Pass the plates around

—

We lift our pot of seasoned rice

Cauliflower and qidra spice

Israel steals our land

They steal our food

But they can’t steal our sumud

—

Israel steals our land

They steal our food

But they can’t steal our sumud

—

Shattered Glass

Shattered Dreams

Broken bones

Broken wings

The songbird sits too tired to sing

In her home in Falastin

—

The songbird sits too tired to sing

In her tent in Falastin