Untitled poem (will be renamed) VERY VERY VERY ROUGH DRAFT

*This is a VERY rough draft. This is the first time I am writing this, so all the editing, thinking, contemplating, etc. is not done, yet. Thats why I need as many crits as possible.
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There is a place
where I grew up
from a small ignorant boy
to a strong proud man

Its situated on the Mediterranean
and I remember the sea breeze well
Every morning I would see the sun
rise, on its daily ascent

I remember the good times,
and the bad,
and I had resolved to always
come back here so I could have said

I lived my ideals, and I stayed until the end

I wanted to raise my family there
in my home of twenty years
but no more, I can't

The government says I cant
It isnt my home anymore, I am told
to go to the people who have fought us
since before I was even born

So, now we have to leave
religious or not
it doesnt matter
right or left
they don't care
farmer or city dweller,
it doesnt matter

We all have to go.

But where will we go?
We don't know, they don't care
Just leave.

The old men cry out to the Lord
"Why have you forsaken us?"
The women plead
"This is our home! We have no where else!"
The children cry, for they don't understand

I tell myself to be strong, it will all be okay

The soldiers come, intent on their mission
Some don't want to do it, but they have no choice
I go into the town square and emulate Moses, the Prophet
but I alter his speech

"LET MY PEOPLE STAY" I say
they don't listen
the government wants us out
so out we must go
to make way for a peace
that will never come

So what will become of my childhood home
of the temple I was bar mitzvah'ed in?
Of the fields I harvested?
Of the library and the schools?

We don't know, and neither do they,
and nobody but us cares
what will happen to my beloved Gush Katif.

I believe this Poem has a deep and passionate meaning -- you can tell by the strong voice; the narrator is very present throughout the whole thing. However, the rythm of the poem is just not there in my opinion - i can't seem to grasp the way the author would read it or the narrator would speak it -- however, overall it is a great poem and really conveys a deep message.

Ok, before I get off on my comments, jeesh. and I'm pretty sure.. Gaza pullout, right? and message? good heavens. ok, now I'll be mean.

first stanza. all telling. no imagery that can't be worked into the poem in other places.

second. same as the first. just working in a line somewhere about the sae breeze.. I think that does more than blatent discription.

third. don't tell me you had good times, show me. what were they? why were they good/bad?

fourth (the line). ok. idea you want expressed, but it's summed up in the next few stanzas, so ask yourself: is it necessary?

fifth. and sixth. combine them. more succient (ok, that's just me). maybe add a slight air of mystery to it.. not sure, something like"I wanted to raise my family here/in this home that was mine for 20 years/it goes to those who have fought us/since before i was even born". does that make sense? I'm trying to not rewrite anything for you (promise).

seventh. er..again, this could be worked into other parts and it would sound more poetic than just stating.

eighth..same as above. maybe allude to the forcible evacuations?

ninth. personally, I don't like this part..almost better just alluded to, or unsaid, but that's up to you.

tenth. yes.

eleventh. meh. combine or omit, as a sense of this is felt through the poem as it is.

twelfth. again, I think using more concrete imagery such as noises heard, etc. would make good abstract allusions to your point.

thirteenth. don't like it bold. distracting. and stay and say rhyme, which you haven't had anywhere else, which is really distracting. "to make way for a peace/that will never come" good. very good.

fourteenth. first line is really wordy.. maybe "and what of" and then continue to the next line type of line would work better..

fifteenth. ack. last line sounds incredibly forced. and awkward. also a bit (and I hate myself for saying this) self-pitying. I would rework this stanza entirely.

Now. you said this was a draft, so this is pretty general. once you revise, if you'd like I'll go through again and pick on style, word choice, line breaks, the works. now, if you don't mind (yenta I am) do you usually write poetry? where you there, or is this feelings about this? or a friends POV? why? (okm, don't answer that one, and I think I agree with you, what peace? but politics aside). now.. maybe more references such as "bar mitzvah" would help here.. overall, not bad for a first draft. now revise. make it better.

You did a great job using a consistent and strong voice throughout this piece. You immersed yourself and the audience thoroughly in your story.
However, I agree that while you "told" much, you didn't show much. Without much imagery or creative use of sound and diction, this sounded more like a speech than a poem. It would be an excellent speech, or free-write. I think you need to work with more of the tools of language for it to be a strong poem.
Given any thought to fleshing it out and making it a full story?

I revised it. Heres the new one:

LET MY PEOPLE STAY
There is a place
on the Mediteranean
where I learned to walk, run and ride
where I experienced love, loss and life
Here I was born, and here I will die,
it will always be my home

I remember vividly the salty breeze from the sea
and swimming in the ocean after school
and the golden yellow sun
relflecting off its crystaline waters

Here I celebrated holidays
and stumbled home on purim
had my first kiss in the orchards
with the one that got away
Here I buried my older brother
and when I did
Everyone tore their shirts with me*

I wanted to start a family here
but I can't anymore
soon my home of 20 years
will be nothing but a pile of rubble
thanks to "Steamroller Sharon"

Now it goes to our enemies
the Meuzzin calls
God is great! Victory to HAMAS!
As people pack their belongings
tears contorting their faces in pain

The soldiers come, but not to kill our enemies
but to give them land, our land!
And orange clad mass
yelling and screaming
YEHUDI LO MIGARESH YEHUDI
A JEW DOESNT EXPEL A JEW!
Converge on the gates to meet them
the older people lift up their sleeves
revealing numbers
while youth scream insults

Soldiers break up the mob
make arrests
WE ARENT TERRORISTS!

At the synogogue we make our own masada
orange clad men cry to God
"Why have you forsaken us?"
I emulate Moses, screaming
LET MY PEOPLE STAY

Some soldiers drag us
kicking and screaming out
others cry and tear their uniforms*
tears streaking their strong, proud faces

The women scream
"This is our home! We have nowhere else!"
As they are led away from their homes
weeping histerically, tugging their hair

But its all for naught
the greenhouses stand empty
the homes are now abandoned
temples, schools, and shops have
not a soul in sight
We have been cleared out
for a peace that will never come

And what will become of
Our beautiful temple, where I was bar-mitzvahed?
the fields I harvested all my life?
the greenhouses, full of plants, I helped to build
with my own two hands?
And what of our huge library and our great schools?
What will become of them?

We don't know, and neither do they
and nobody but us cares about
what will become of
My beloved Gush Katif


*tearing of clothing is used as a sign of mourning in the Jewish faith.