Blood – Naomi Shihab Nye

A poem by Naomi Shihab Nye popped up in my Facebook stream this morning and, not knowing anything about this US-Palestinian poet, I went looking for more of her work. I discovered this poem, Blood, from 1986, which really hit home, in light of recent atrocities in Gaza.


“A true Arab knows how to catch a fly in his hands,”
my father would say. And he’d prove it,
cupping the buzzer instantly

while the host with the swatter stared.

In the spring our palms peeled like snakes.
True Arabs believed watermelon could heal fifty ways.

I changed these to fit the occasion.

Years before, a girl knocked,
wanted to see the Arab.
I said we didn’t have one.
After that, my father told me who he was,
“Shihab”—“shooting star”—
a good name, borrowed from the sky.
Once I said, “When we die, we give it back?”

He said that’s what a true Arab would say.

Today the headlines clot in my blood.
A little Palestinian dangles a truck on the front page.
Homeless fig, this tragedy with a terrible root
is too big for us. What flag can we wave?
I wave the flag of stone and seed,

table mat stitched in blue.

I call my father, we talk around the news.
It is too much for him,
neither of his two languages can reach it.
I drive into the country to find sheep, cows,
to plead with the air:
Who calls anyone civilized?
Where can the crying heart graze?
What does a true Arab do now?

– Naomi Shihab Nye

via Poetry Foundation 

4 thoughts on “Blood – Naomi Shihab Nye

      1. Thank you! I never read that one. Excellent. She is a poet who can truly inspire change.

        She also writes children’s books. My favorite is Sitti’s Secret. My students are captivated by it. It’s about a girl’s separation and love for her grandmother who lives across the ocean. Such a beautiful book.

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