This collection spans geographies of war, homelessness, homemaking, longing, and hope as it travels through Palestinian, Lebanese, Jordanian, American and other landscapes. Informed by depth of experience and a resilient humanism, these poems seek to transform landscapes of devastation to geographies of light. Meena Alexander writes about this book, "Out of the dispersal of the Palestinian people comes a voice, delicate, tender, bearing witness to brutal loss, as well as the exquisite pulse of joy, a woman's voice trying to make sense of what it means to be at home in this world."
Lisa gives an overview of the book:
A Few Reasons to Oppose the War
because wind soughs in the branches of trees
like blood sighing through veins
because in each country there are songs
huddled like wet-feathered birds
because even though the news has nothing new to say
and keeps on saying it
NO still fights its way into the world
because for every bomb that is readied
a baby nestles into her mother
latches onto a nipple beaded with milk
because the tulips have waited all winter
in the cold dark earth
because each morning the wildflowers outside my window
raise their yellow faces to the sun
because we are all so helplessly in love
with the light
About Lisa
Lisa Suhair Majaj is a Palestinian-American poet, writer and critic. Author of the prize-winning poetry volume Geographies of Light (Del Sol Press, 2009), she has published her poetry and essays in over 90 journals and anthologies internationally. She is also co-editor of...
Published Reviews
"In Geographies of Light, Majaj writes exquisitely of the profound personal and collective loss that defines Palestinian history. Using intimate and compellingly honest, unaffected language...
Majaj’s imagery is thick with vegetation, not just the figs we expect in Arab American poetry and the olive trees that are such symbols for Palestinian poetry, but asphodels and knotted fruit and American...










These poems were written over a span of two decades, during which I moved between countries and cultures, seeking always for a space I could call home. Now I understand that home is in the writing - and in the connections we make.