Blood

“Blood” is a meditation on identity, culture, and history. Although the poem appears deceptively simple—an autobiographical account of the poet’s understanding of her heritage—it presupposes at least some knowledge of the complex history of the Middle East, specifically the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

Short, direct sentences that convey emotional sincerity make up the poem, but the language is allusive and richly metaphorical.

The poem begins by describing childhood moments that define the speaker’s sense of who she is. Much of her identity is derived from her father’s stories about his heritage—as a “true Arab”, he possesses knowledge and powers than other don’t, which goes back generations.

The speaker sees her father as heroic—it is fair to say she mythologizes him. She is proud that he is a “true Arab” (Lines 1 and 6) but also proud that he identifies her as a “true Arab” (Line 15). Someone “true” is reliable, and the speaker indicates that she has never had any reason not to trust the information passed down through the generations: “True Arabs believed watermelon could heal fifty ways. / I changed these to fit the occasion” (Lines 6-7).

The phrase “true Arabs” is like an incantation that keeps the speaker safe—until the last line of the poem.

The first three stanzas of the poem use storytelling, family banter, and folk wisdom to create a sense of what it was like to grow up in a close-knit, loving, biracial home. Being an Arab is a fact of life—so much so that the precocious young poet does not realize it carries any particular significance. Her innocence is revealed in the lines “Years before, a girl knocked, / wanted to see the Arab. / I said we didn’t have one” (Lines 8-10).

Beyond the scope of a happy family life, however, there is a more brutal world waiting to be discovered. When the speaker reads about the plight of “[a] little Palestinian” (Line 17) in the news, “the headlines clot in my blood” (Line 16). The speaker indicates the effect that the news has on her physiology—a blood clot can cause a stroke or heart attack, doing widespread damage; similarly, learning about the violence in Palestine seems to threaten her entire being.

This is the first and only reference to “blood,” the title of the poem, but a sense of shared lineage runs through each stanza. “Blood” means family and ties that are stronger than nationhood. The speaker is forced to question where her loyalties lie in a conflict in which Israel frequently receives military support from America. She asks, “What flag can we wave?” (Line 19) and answers her own question by suggesting the land itself, and family ties, are dearer to her than any one nation. She also implies the very idea of a nation may itself be flawed.

The poet draws attention to anti-Arab sentiment in the final stanza of the poem, where the trope of the Palestinians as an “uncivilized” people is called out: “Who calls anyone civilized?” (Line 27).

Viewing the Palestinians as inferior, uncivilized barbarians has helped Israel to justify discrimination and violence against them, the speaker implies—Arabs are attacked and displaced for being Arabs. Although the speaker can find a safe place to live in America, she still cannot find a place untouched by racializing politics: “Where can the crying heart graze?” (Line 28).

The three rhetorical questions that conclude the poem indicate there is ultimately no real “safe space” for the speaker’s heart, which is compared to an animal. The speaker implies that Arabs are not seen as part of civilization, but their link to nature and the land is what elevates them, providing them with their unwavering sense of identity. The poem also suggests that Arabs have learnt how to tame nature and use it to their advantage—a skill that has helped them to survive.

By humanizing Palestinians, Shihab Nye pleads for empathy and peace but also hints that the intergenerational trauma she and her father face “is too big for us” (Line 19). The final line of the poem, “What does a true Arab do now?”, asks a difficult question, but the poem itself supplies a possible answer to the question. By writing a poem, the poem has committed a crucial act of solidarity.