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A Year of Rebirth

In the Name of Allâh, the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful

A poem by Tariq Mehanna


A year of rebirth since they duct-taped my lips,
Classified as a weapon my fingertips,
From their cup of "freedom" I've had a few sips,
The reality with which we must come to grips;

Is that we are hunted once after the next,
PATRIOT Act foretold in the divine text,
Yet the stance of our "leaders" here in the West
Leaves even the cynic confused and perplexed;

Their only concern is to not rock the boat,
They furnish each word with a fine sugar coat,
A respectable one is nowhere to quote,
While the field slaves are out here digging the moat;

Rather than preserve the creed of Abraham,
As we face our '63 Birmingham,
What we hear is more watered-down verbal spam,
Devoid of the strong legacy of Islam;

Whenever they're honored to speak to the press,
They have not the backbone to even address,
This crusade waged against us, lest they digress,
From trying to prove their 'Americanness';

They'd told us "Obama!" I said "You just wait,
He is not but an employee of the state,
That upon the Ummah has focused its hate,"
And now we see that he has increased the rate,

Of arrest and drone strikes and death in our land,
This war on Islam, it will only expand,
History will record where you choose to stand,
But some will choose to keep their heads in the sand;

So, don't calm me down as they take their picks,
And keep us sedated through their politricks,
Don't you see that they gave Aafia 86?
And invented "threats" from L.A. to For Dix?

I wonder what it is about me they fear,
To protect you from me for over a year,
Something I said they did not want you to hear?
A message they were afraid I would make clear?

Yes, they asked me to play their treacherous game,
To betray my people, volunteer my name,
And if I agreed, I'd be free from all blame,
And if not, they promised that they would take aim;

But when they were snubbed and could not deflect
The fact that their scare tactics had no effect,
That their "easy way out" I would not select,
That from my position I would not defect;

They had to get back at me, had to save face,
And had to somehow cover up their disgrace,
They cobbled together this fraudulent case,
About how I "plotted" to shoot up the place;

To this day, not a single proof has been shown,
Despite years of surveillance of my cell phone,
And search warrant to dissect all that I own,
Their goal was just that I be locked up alone;

In order to fulfill this America goal,
They got some informants to sell them their soul,
While I may be the one sitting in the Hole,
In Hellfire they'll pay the ultimate toll;

so, here I am, jailed in the land of the Free,
Facing a machine with its sights set on me,
Alas, it has declared it true enmity,
Placed our names around a lowercase 'v';

But my jail cell is my co-conspirator,
It has opened my eyes like never before,
Has strengthened my hear, allowed my mind to soar,
And to Paradise, it has opened the door;

A year of rebirth since the past life has ceased,
Since I've been here in the belly of the beast,
Looking up at the vultures circling their feast,
My resolve and my pride have only increased ...

Tariq Mehanna

Thursday 13th of Dhu al-Qa'dah 1431/
21st of October 2010
Plymouth Correctional Facility, America
Isolation Unit - Cell #108


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