Rounded Up - Artificial Terrorists and Muslim Entrapment after 9/11

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Rounded Up


Son of Mountains

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Son of Mountains

Waiting for Mercy

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Waiting for Mercy




My Town

In the sky over my town
Every day helicopters
Circle above our heads
Raining fire and metal.

On the street and on the sidewalk
Death squads named Security
Round up people for the prison
Disappear them with no reason.

There is no peace in my city.
People are full of bitter humiliation,
Desolation and impotent rage,
Like the Palestinians,
Like the Afghans.*

We have no rights––we are slaves.
Our city, a cemetery,
Our houses, graves.
But you are only really dead
When you put down your head.


*under Soviet rule