My Mother, My Paradise
Mothers lose sleep for the child to dream while also abstaining from food so that the infant could be fed—
Mothers lose sleep for the child to dream while also abstaining from food so that the infant could be fed—
As innocents are killed, the powerful convene fruitless meetings, exchanging hollow condolences, indifferent to the plight of war victims.
Oppression of Palestinians is a blot on our civilized times even as the thirst of the blood-thirsty Gog-Magogs goes on-
Violence, oppression and inequality have made life unjust and unbearable for the afflicted ones- writes Mujeeb Jaihoon
Creative freedom is proportionate to the price one can afford to pay— asserts Mujeeb Jaihoon
True heroism is found in compassionate acts that alleviate suffering, embodying timeless virtues of generosity and love for humanity.
Jaihoon’s passionate elegy on the martyrdom of the Palestinian boys killed by Israeili warships while playing football on the beach
Justice remains a persecuted prisoner in the paradoxical world of the rich and powerful— writes Mujeeb Jaihoon
Dreams cried, Nightmare laughed. Cup smashed, Wine spilled— Mujeeb Jaihoon’s poetic dissent against the civilian deaths in the Yemen conflict.
Dedicated to Abdul Halim Attar, a Palestinian refugee who sold pens on Beirut streets, while carrying his daughter Reem on