Sep 27

Write

Why write?
they ask,
Why write?
Because I can tell the stories
of the people who have no voices.
Why write?
Because there are thousand stories waiting there,
like a cherry blossom tree in bloom.
Why write?
Because I can give a voice to the pictures in my head,
that haunt me day and night.
Why write?
Because the anger and frustration
comes through in black and white.
Why write?
Because when the world is in chaos,
I have a place to rest.
Why write?
Because when you read I want to see
your face crinkle up in all the emotions
you feel when you read this poem.
Why write?
Because I can make a change in a world
where normally I have no power.
Why write?
Because I like it.
#sos17
 
Sep 09

Friends

There are two leaves on the playground.
These leaves embody you and me,
one shrunken and shy, losing all color,
one vibrant and beautiful,
slim and bright and friendly.
I am the shrunken one.
I am the crumpled one that no one bothers
to look at.
I am the leaf that kids crush beneath their feet.
But you are the leaf that kids will pick up,
and wonder at.
They will press you between 
the pages of their books.
And you poison me.
Poison me with your friendship,
with your hurtful words.
You destroy my confidence
with every sly look.
But do you know what happens
to those leaves pressed between pages?
They grow trapped, they're stiff and still,
without the air to breathe.
They are forgotten
in the rush of life
and left there until the end of time,
and the crumpled leaves that 
were left behind
are picked up by the autumn wind and
they see places,
Sep 05

I am

I am who I am
and you can't change it,
you can't tell me what to do.
My religion is my religion,
you can't change it,
you can't tell me what to believe,
you can't teach me about Christianity
like it's our religion
like I'm other.
like I'm alien.
My nationality is my nationality,
but you can stop me at airports
because the color of my skin is one shade darker than yours.
You can think that just because
I'm a Muslim,
I've got a bomb hiding 
in my backpack
that's just like your daughters,
but I'm different
'cause I pray to 
Allah instead of the good Lord.
My country is my country,
so don't say to my face
that I'm evil and I have nukes.
So please don't stop me in the street,
and say look
my skin is almost as tan as yours.
Please don't say that
God hates me,
when how would you know?
Sep 05

Dreamers

They are the ones whisked away in the
middle of the night,
no chance to say goodbye
to the country they were born in.
They are the ones lived lives
hushed and mute,
in fear of the ICE
officers coming to deport them.
They are the ones who
loved this land
and they understand
the danger of going back
to the poverty and dread
that they escaped from,
they are the ones that do the
fundamental work of the nation,
they plant the crops,
they make the food,
they code our computers,
they make our clothes,
always behind the scene,
afraid of getting noticed.
They are the ones whose
parents dared to dream of the land of the free,
of a better place
for their family,
they are the Dreamers.
Aug 24

Tell me

Tell me why in this land of freedom,
do people have to be afraid
that the scarf around their head will be met
with violence.
Tell me why,
in this equal world,
do we have to be afraid of people who march in the streets,
and salute to the Nazi flag.
Tell me why,
in this equal world,
people are shouted at in public,
just for speaking Spanish.
Tell me why in this
land of free speech,
some peoples voices are muffled.
Tell me why,
In this land of equality our biggest leaders
will not admit to racism.
Tell me why,
in this land that has a Statue of Liberty marking it's shores,
there is talk of hating all immigrants
Tell me why, 
in this kind world,
do a little girl's
parents have to explain to her why
a woman shouted at her in the street
because they were talking loudly in Arabic.
Tell me why,
In this fair world,
Aug 24

Vermont

To me,
Vermont is Ben and Jerry's ice cream and
mid afternoon walks on Church Street.
Vermont is a place
where everyone is equal,
Vermont is a place where roots grow deep and
the sidewalk ends.
Vermont is past the concrete jungles and
the loud puffing factories,
past the huge skyscrapers and the
loud city streets,
Vermont is where the grass grows green and the
trees grow tall,
and deer lurk in the shadows.
Vermont is the place where the snow falls soft and
summers get hot
and where fall brings apple cider doughnuts.
Vermont is laughing children
that hide behind lilac bushes and
play flashlight tag in the dark.
Vermont is the place where
creemees melt and are licked by smiling children.
Vermont is the place where the light summer breeze carries the sound
of summer crickets.
Vermont is the place where cold noses are met by hot chocolate.
Aug 09

Nothing

how can I make something out of nothing,
when nothing seems to be a concept not a truth,
for example take these words,
the very words I am writing
If I took them off the page,
would there nothing,
no, there would be a blank computer screen
and your blank face trying to process
why exactly I have entered a full page of nothing.
But here again is a play on words.
You use words that do not fit,
and you waste the words completely.
for black is not the absence of color,
instead the combination of
all colors,
if anything,
white is nothing.
and as we have all learned from this,
I probably need to get some sleep.
#sos17

Pages