When Hitler’s horde invaded Norway in 1940
my father blew up a train,
they shot him for that
calling him a terrorist
disturbing an otherwise quiet occupation.
Mind, he was a communist
and was never given a posthumously medal after the war,
when flags snapped in May’s breeze
and everyone claimed to have been
a daring freedom fighter.

I think of the brave,
condemned people in the ghetto of Warsaw
who stood up against a mighty foe
and kept the ogre at bay for days.
I think of Palestine
and her betrayed people
called terrorists by a powerful enemy,
but I’ve to be careful and not voice my protest loudly,
otherwise the cynical,
who play the holocaust card will call me
an anti-Semitic opponent of Israel.