She Does Not Love You. Your Metaphors

Poetry Is Perhaps What Teaches Us To Nurture The Charming Illusion: How To Be Reborn Out Of Ourselves Over And Over Again, And Use Words To Construct A Better World, A Fictitious World That Enables Us To Sign A Pact For A Permanent And Comprehensive Peace ... With Life.

We Are Captives Of What We Love, What We Desire, And What We Are.

I See What I Want Of Love... I See Horses Making The Meadow Dance, Fifty Guitars Sighing, And A Swarm Of Bees Suckling The Wild Berries, And I Close My Eyes Until I See Our Shadow Behind This Dispossessed Place... I See What I Want Of People: Their Desire To Long For Anything, Their Lateness In Getting To Work And Their Hurry To Return To Their Folk... And Their Need To Say: Good Morning.

We Have To Understand - Not Justify - What Gives Rise To This Tragedy. It's Not Because They're Looking For Beautiful Virgins In Heaven, As Orientalists Portray It. Palestinian People Are In Love With Life. If We Give Them Hope - A Political Solution - They'll Stop Killing Themselves.

I Am From There. I Am From Here. I Am Not There And I Am Not Here. I Have Two Names, Which Meet And Part, And I Have Two Languages. I Forget Which Of Them I Dream In.