I have been looking for a lost key

Of a Path I have known for long

The path. I have seen light so many times

Yet have chosen darkness.

Sometimes it is not out of disobedience,

Out of weakness.

I am weak. I am weary.

I am lost.

I have not gone astray:

I know the path very well. I was given a key.

I keep seeking for a chain so that I never run out of chances

To pick the wrong path and yet hope for redemption.

I am not lost waiting to be found.

I know where I am standing

I know this path, I have taken it so many times.

But I am hoping for a chain.

More roads. More turns. More doors.

I keep locking myself in;

I should be on the other side of the road.

I am stuck. I am moving in reverse.

I feel faint. I feel yellow.

I feel empty. I feel waste.

I have gone so down. So deep.

Endless, this road even seems.

But. But is a keyword:

Sometimes it hurts; but here, but is a keyword.

A good keyword.

Lord, heal me.

Heal my soul, I beg thee!

Bring faith to my heart, my bones,

Make it ache of faith.

I believe.

It matters that I believe.

Save me, my Lord

For I have chosen to go astray

The path you have given me a key of,

I have lost it. I can’t find it.

And yet I feel my pocket, no not there.

I feel my heart, yes. Yes, I found it.

Faith is the only key to salvation.



Same Signs Soon


There is a mile between a tear and a smile.

There is an era between happiness and sadness.

They lie, oh they do lie, when they say a thin line

Lies in the middle. How stupid to think that

The distance between the tragic and the comic

Is few feet away.


It’s as far as a star and as close as a breath

Inhaled on a winter eve. It’s as warm as a sunny day

And as cold as a cup of juice in the fridge.


It’s as scary as a Monday night movie, as romantic

As A Walk to Remember. It’s as surprising as a sudden death

Of a dear, a beloved. It is as regular as rain drops in summer.

It is unexplained. It is unnoticed. It’s un-invisble. Still not entirely so.


It breaks the laws of physics. It is controlled by gravity.

It heads north when south is the end. And it breaks the rhythm

When the rhyme fits. It waits not for your sorrow to disappear entirely

Or your laughter to seize fully. It waits not for your breath to be taken.


It sneaks in. It sneaks out. It stays within. It reveals no secretes, It stops at no limits. It is fragile. It is feeble. It is strong. It is fearless.

It is illiterate but speaks 5999 languages. Learning its 6000th.


It’s on the road with no end with one real end. To find its way

Through that one mile. It travels through time. Through space.

Through souls until it gets to the other side of the mile. It draws a smile.

It draws a frown. It draws something. But it never distorts a figure.


It takes its time. It takes few seconds. It takes few forevers.

It waits. It’s patient. It waits until you ask it to come. Until you decide to embrace.

Until you are ready. It waits. Then breaks through you.

Breaks your bones. Breaks your veins. Breaks your thoughts.

It amends. It fixes. It lasts.

The too Good to Have a Title Poem

To time a new era of solitude
Where man is known for his bad attitude,
Led by the error of dreams,
Concealed somewhere beneath
The threshold of pain,
betwixt freedom
And eternal reign.
The silence and the innocence
And the privileged machevillan
A sound of a prayer,
A voice of an echo
Echos start first followed by a whistle
Long distance hisses
And short destined miracles.

Students in the News


Studying English at IUG: a Bless Never a Curse


In a recent work of the talented students of English language at the Islamic university of Gaza, students fell in love with their major even more.

On the 28th of April, the English department at the Islamic university of Gaza held a symposium by some of the professors and then followed shortly by the students ‘Annual Show of Creativity’. Although the show started an hour late due to the delay in the beginning of the symposium, students were all over the hall waiting to see their fellow students presenting their best. This show was being prepared to for more than a year and was met with great success. “We have been announcing for this show since January 2013. I don’t know why it took this long but I am glad it did. The performances were perfect and everyone was astonished. Alhamdulilah,” reported  Nour El Borno, the students’ representative in the show.

The show was hosted by the two students Saleh Orouq and Afnan Sharawi; there were two sketches: one by the female students (Nour Abo Msabeh, Rawan Habeeb) and one bythe male students; there were three poems: one recited by Ma’alyHabeeb the second by Hadeel Mahdi, and the third by Hasna Abu Ewieda; there were two short stories: one by ShaimaaZiara and the other by TasneemHamouda; AnasSamhan performed a song written by Dr. Akram Habib. There was a related to English major competition between the male students and female students won by the latter with a three point difference. The most important part of the whole show was the male students’ sketch: The Cursed Chair.

It has been a while since the Palestinians enjoyed the beauty of being one hand, one people. Hasaniyah, the playwright, said, “When I heard about the reconciliation between Fatih and Hamas, I couldn’t believe it! It was fate! The play to be at the same time of the reconciliation sounded impossible. It was unbelievable how timed things were.” The play was about a king and four sons; each son represented a party. They started on good terms butgave up on each other when they were under the spell of the Cursed Chair. However, by the end of the play they went back and became united saving their king from death.

When asked about the names of the knights, said Hasaniyah, “I was very careful when I chose the names of the characters and I did a good research to make things go great. There are four knights: Noir, Clancy, Xanthias, and Bertilak. 1) Xanthias is an old Greek name. It means the yellow one. It was used by Aristophanes in his plays. Fatah was given that name because it’s the oldest Palestinian party, and because it came at a time in which all Palestinians were under the Israeli occupation. (Mahmoud Khalaf) (2) Clancy is mostly used as a surname, but can also be used as a first name. It’s Irish and it means the red-haired warrior. The name was chosen for Aljabha party because they are always calling for a revolution. Clancy in the play appeared very enthusiastic, and he encouraged his brothers to act before the enemy approaches the kingdom. (Ahmed Elshaqra) (3) To choose a name for Aljihad party was a very difficult task. Why the French name “Noir”? No reason actually, but the harmony of the name was epic. The name is somewhat mysterious but strong. (Ahmed Alqattawi) (4) Bertilak is also an Irish name. It literary means the green knight. Of course the name stands for Hamas.(Mohammed Hasaniyah).”

The audience were on their feet twice during the performance; it was difficult not to get up and clap for those bright students and excellent performers. The play started with Hasaniyah, Bertilak, announcing his king like in a Knight’s Tale; it was splendid. The king, Abdelraheem Abu Warda, made it look as if he has been a king since ever. There were times you would look at the audience and see them either crying from the heart or smiling for triumph. The blue devil, MoneerLubbad, played his role perfectly well. He was jumping around and laughing like Disney’s evil characters. Xanthias, Mahmoud Khalaf, and Bertilak’s, Mohammed Hasaniyah, little battle was flawless. Clancy, Ahmed Alshaqra, and Noir, Ahmed Alqattawi were no less; they were excellent. When they were pushed to the ground, it was admirable how they were in a blink of an eye on the ground sitting on one foot, closing their eyes and bending their heads. Everything was timed, and everything turned out great.  Alhadmulilah, the event was a huge success. These students, all of them, have bright futures ahead of them.