Love and occupation

Mahmoud Darwish 's Poem "Rita… Love Me"

So fluent and so easily in flow — now I hold on. Rethinking. Too many words in my head. This poem is all about gaps. Police of Athens — police of Berlin, what accompany us on the streets since two years. More and more cut of social and cultural projects to pay the horrendous bill of police.

The reason — Palestine.

How can we separate love and politics?

He cannot, I cannot, many cannot.

I could write — it’s the yt priviledge, but it makes no sense to repeat and repeat the same wording — the adressats don’t listen .

Queer Dating culture shifted recently in Berlin.

Yts like to date bipocs (cute, exotic, it tastes political and antirassist).

Bipocs don’t like to date yts. -“ Yeah, they can be cute and politically correct, but … U know what I mean? “ — said a black friend with the bright smile. My struggle is different as an indigenous. But I know what she means.

As I explained my opinion to one friend, I really helped a lot — they became silent. The gap filled with hurt of rejection. They called me “ my universe “ as a joke. They showed me poetry about the desire of cutting out someone’s heart (mine?) and eating it. But yt feelings are something different as what I crave. I don’t feel loved by them.

I have an own universe fulfilled with heartbeats for kids, pets, small and big things. Joyful and painful. I am inseparable from the love to my soil and for my people.

I cannot separate love and occupation, so Mahmoud cannot. His cravings for Rita’s body build the astral bridge to the soil he is banned from. The question is in the room — if he would have a choice to embrace Rita or to return? The gap is louder then words.

As he expirienced that Rita is working for Mossad he wrote “ — I thought the love is my homeland. I forgot that homelands can be taken away “.