May 02

It's a little more complicated

Climate change. 

We all know it, 
we know that it must be stopped, 
and we're trying, we really are,
but let me give you a different persepective, 
a kind of 'yours truly' from poor people 
and people of color. 

we care about climate change, 
we all live on this Earth after all, 

but it's easier for you to care in your
suburban houses, 
being able to afford solar panels,
and those reusable straws, 

people are living in the neighbourhoods 
you abandoned, 
'white flight',

and instead of telling her son to 
compost and recycle, 
she's telling her son not to wear a hoodie outside
at night because 
she wants him to survive, 

because instead of working on making
government offices more sustainable, 
she's focusing on the dread she fells in her stomach
when she sees police lights, 
Apr 24
poem 1 comment challenge: ListenUp

White Guilt

So you scream that you're proud
of your pale skin 
and there's no reason that you 
shouldn't be. 

But remember that you were allowed
to be proud from 
the moment you saw the light 
of the afternoon sun, 

your spine is stacked straight
because centuries of people 
told you that you were superior, 
whether or not you believed them. 

And you did not ask for this, 
I see your slouch when we 
talk of what your ancestors have done, 
guilt like bricks on your back, 
for something you did not do, 
you had no choice in, 

and you may complain 
of anscestors' guilt, 
but at least you do not feel
an ancestor's pain.

Our backs were broken
until crooked and our eyes
forced to the ground, 
the moment your people saw us 
in the afternoon sun.

Our spines are stacked crooked
because people tell us we are not good enough, 
Apr 18


History is burning around us, 
history is burning around us, 
the shattered stained glass shards
raining down around us. 

History is being bombed around us, 
crumbling architecture, gods
that surround us blowing up, 
ancient gods blown up with modern weapons,

History is being erased around us, 
I can see the little eraser crumbs scattered 
across an entire people's story 
wiped blank, like they were never there.

What is going to be left over for those who inherit, 
smoking ruins of robots and computers
that we used to destroy ourselves?

Will they know about their ancestors, 
will they know how they fought, 
how they lived, 
how they loved, 
or will they look at the remains of the Earth and decide
they are ashamed of anyting that came before them? 

If aliens come in the future, 
will we be left to greet them? 
Apr 12

Take a wish upon a star

Wishes are for fairy tales,
Wishes are for dreams,
Wishes are for pretty things
In between what we think.
Wishes are for people in love
On sunless summer nights,
Wishes are for three-leafed clovers
And comets streaking high.
Wishes are for burning stars
So that they can’t sleep,
Wishes are coins in a fountain
While we silently weep,
Wishes are for sleepless people
Who stare into the void,
Wishes are for troublemakers
Who just got tattooed.
Wishes are for lonely people
With tears in their eyes,
Wishes are for empty people,
Trying not to die,
Wishes are the delicate things
Between the stars and the sky,
Wishes are for all the people who
Want to feel alive.

Apr 02
poem 2 comments challenge: Home


Home is a complicated word. 

Home has history,
home has time,
home has the entirety of a life, 
home is long 
and bittersweet 
and longing. 

Home is so many things. 

Home is your parent's arms around you, 
home is the call of the mosque winding through air
home is the spices in the bazaar, 
home is kabaab cooked over the fireplace, 
home is the family get togethers in the gardens, 
home is the dining table 
home is large blankets that swallow you whole
home is dragonflies drifting in the breeze
home is the feeling of a glowing summer evening. 

Home is so many things. 

Home can be houses spread 
over land
home can be wherever you are 
at the time,
home can be one place your
entire life, 
home can be some place you have 
never been.

Home is so many things. 

For me, 

Home is my body. 
Mar 25

I won't lie

I will not love you until the end of time, 
because I can't. 

None of us will see the end of time, 
the end of the universe as we know it. 

we will never see when the stars go dark 
because of the expansion and we can
no longer see the galaxies that were once so close. 

we will never see future civilizations rise and fall, 
a clash of wars across a desolate Earth. 

we will never see when the human race dies and there is simply 
a lonely planet with the remains of computers that long fizzled out. 

Maybe there will nothing there to realize that 
it is the end, and the entire world simply goes 
in a quiet sort of peace. 

We will never see anything past our maybe 80 years of lifespan, 
so I will not love you until the end of the universe because I can't. 

And maybe I won't even love you the rest of my life 
Mar 18

To all the people who hate Muslims

To all the people who hate Muslims.

Do I scare you? They call it Islamophobia after all.

Do I scare you? Does my family scare you?

Let me give you a summary of us, in case you didn’t really know us all that well.

Standing at about 5 foot 2 inches,
With big, bushy, fuzzy hair
And a penchant for zoning out and
Always having graphite-stained fingers.

My sister,
10 years old, who once made
Her own little snack dispenser
Out of a cardboard box and some tape.

My father,
Who makes us pancakes in the mornings,
Who loves gardening and prides himself
On making food out of our own vegetables
In the summers.

My mother,
Who drinks more tea than seems humanly possible
who’s just finishing up her dissertation now,
And loves dancing to any song, anywhere.

Are you scared of us? Because that seems a little silly at this point, doesn’t it?
Mar 06

a little bit human

There is no such thing
as good and evil, 
nothings ever so black and white. 

and I'll tell you why. 

Everyone has a different side to the story, 
and the things they do may be horrific, 
it's true, but everyone does it for a reason, 
you did something horrific too. 

Wars are waged and some people lost, 
we said they were evil, we said we were nice, 
we seem to forget that we killed people too, 
all the fathers and mothers they never 
came home to. 

There is no such thing 
as good and evil 
nothing's ever so black and white.

and I'll tell you why. 

Everything hurts, 
we're all a little weak 
even though we might hide it with
iron and steel, 
you have to consider you might be the villain
of somebody else's story too. 

And we know that some people were bad,
we know they did wrong, 
Feb 26

I see heroes

I see heroes.

I see the girl who shoots fire,
her hands are burned a charcoal black
and everything she touches comes away smudged,
the pain in her eyes as the flames rip out of her hands
is big and burning but no one ever sees it.
because heroes are invincible.

I see the boy who controls water,
he can tell you best what it feels like to drown,
to feel the water clog up every part of you
before it all comes rushing out,
to feel like a towel
all wrung out, but her will never speak.
because heroes are invincible.

I see the girl who shoots lightning,
she is thrumming with energy all through her veins,
touch her and all the hair stands on end,
she can tell you what the
inside of an supernova feels like,
but she’ll keep it to herself,
because heroes are invincible.

I see the boy with the robot parts,
he can always hear the whirring inside his ears,
Feb 14

Bloody call

I call you,
My brothers,
To die.

I call you to spill your blood
Across the thirsty ground
So we may grow freedom
From the seeds you planted.

I call you to march ahead
And face your deaths
With heads held high and
Eyes of steel.

I call you to be pasted across
The posters,
Decorating mourning cities
Years after your deaths.

I call you to watch your friends
Be blasted apart,
See the last light leave them
In their final breaths.

I call you to be mourned
By those who live,
Missing limbs,
Missing friends,
Missing love,
Missing joy,
Wanting death with hungry eyes.

I call you, my sisters,
To feel the rage
Burning up inside you as
You take up arms,
Sometimes open,
Sometimes in disguise,
To defend what you feel is right.

I call you, my sisters,
To mourn those who left