muslim
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Black,
White.
Muslim,
Christian.
Rich,
Poor.
We are covered in labels,
And drowning in sterotypes.
We can't break free,
From the painful lies.
My skin is white,
and to think for a minute that your corpse will bid you farewell– it’s a tragedy for some, but a mercy unto others.i can only pray that the taste of my death will be sweet,
The white woman at the DMV
Stares down at me
16 years old and in line for my first I.D.
I take the photo twice to make sure it comes out right
dear black folks i want to be white dear white folks iwant to be black dear halfcastes i want to be black and white at the same time (much love to my kids) dear jews i want to be a muslim dear muslims i want to be a jew can you help me out bro
When I was younger
I felt very lost
I played with my toys
But didn't realize the cost
I knew I had a mission
For my curiosity to explore
I searched everywhere
But never opened the right door
I look at the shiney golden ticket in my miniscule hands.
The fog from the train clouds my eyes as I experience nostalgia from watching Charlie and the Chocolate Factory as a kid.
I am a black girl
I am a black Muslim girl
I speak for the black boy
And the black Muslim boy
I speak to them now
I ask of you what I wish
My name is Reda
It means contentment in Arabic
My mother gave me my name in reverence, finding meaning in a word that she could love her entire life
My name is Reda
It means contentment in Arabic
My mother gave me my name in reverence, finding meaning in a word that she could love her entire life
The Irony in this Nation
How a color
A sound
Can trigger someone’s mind to hate
The accusations and discrimination that holds a great sense of problem in this white nation
they all give me wary eyes
cross the road to avoid crossing paths
pull their children closer
holding them tighter
the drunk men hoot at my covered behind
"Allahu Akbar"
they say
Poetry has given me an outlet to proclaim my observations of the world.
To proclaim how people are mistreated.
To proclaim my human experience to selective eyes.
I'm an atheist,
But that doesn't make me rude.
Keep on trucking, theists,
By all means, you do you.
But I don't appreciate
Being painted as the villain.
I'm not broken nor filled with hate;
Being myself is so hard sometimes.
I am a muslim woman.
I am also a vietnamese woman.
I am a bisexual Vietnamese muslim woman.
I am part of the first generation in my family born outside of Vietnam.
Wouldn’t it be amazing if the world had equality?
If we all had choices and freedom?
Now I know what some of you are going to say
Going to preach
Going to cry
We are equal
But I disagree
Odessa stumbled in
Bruised, bleeding, broken
"Honey, what happened?"
"Just some tea, please."
Hijab around her neck like a noose
Ripped silk and torn skin.
This is a group poem for four people, each person representing a number. I might add more to it soon :-)
1) On June 21 in UK, two citizens were attacked with acid - scarring their body
2)Just as acid hurts you physically
jihadjihadis
what was it?who are they?
Not a bunch of crazywar-fuelledblack-clothedextremists.
once upon a time...We hear in stories as we grow up the wonders and astounding lives characters live,
but when your town is bomb ridden and full of careless rulers, it's not a matter of a happily ever after, it's
Look, what do you see?
Do you think I judge you
Like you do me?
There are things I wish I could do
But feel helpless when I'm around
2016 was the year I learned the definition of an anachronism,
someone who doesn’t mold into their own time period,
as if they’re some alien from another planet,
a time traveler indefinitely stuck in the wrong century.
The times when I first used words to speak, talk, and prattle
Were not the same experiences where I used them in a poem battle
Writing came easy to me, so did speach and rhyming,
What do you think when you see that girl walking across the street?With her head held down, eyes forward, feet flat on the ground, the hijab covering her head full of disparaging thoughts?
Back when the two pillars of freedom collapsed
A people, galvanized, suited up and axed
The chance to make peace by going to war
Without ever asking; What are we fighting for?
To my Country I am a citizen
but to my people I am a foreigner
They see me but they only see
fighter jets and burning buildings
I...
Identity...
Who am I?
Female, A first generation
American,
Pakistani Muslim.
Pakistan, base of culture
Recently I found out that a bible study made up of a few girls from my school discussed at one of their meetings how I am a hypocrite, because I say I am a christian, I say I believe in the words of the bible, but I also, quite loudly, o
1.
Wear you skin like armor.
The glow of your forefathers shines brighter than any bleach-drenched word that tries to erase the “La Illaha Illallah” from your DNA.
You’re Muslim right? That’s pretty exoticIt's messed up how they show your people as so chaoticMy people? Who’s that? The people on the screen?My people come in all colors, races and creeds.
They slam Islam
What I am, a Muslim
A Muslim woman
But it's cool
You can laugh
I can costomize
Go from a red hijab
to blue hijab
This hijab
And that hijab
I am a fashonista
The scarf that rests upon my head
In Arabic, "Hijab"
May seem to some a fearful threat
Mysterious to some.
The names, the teasing. Whispering.
The silence of my tongue replies
I am that HijabThat cloth, that fabricThat symbol, that fearIn people’s eyes
Why does she wear it?
I want to ask you
if there is some connection
between the religious pendant on your wrist
and the dark skin that it halos.
I want to ask you
if you can feel the collective sigh
Different x5
You see I am different
No matter which way you...
Swing it, write it, or say it
Say it, write it, or swing it
Different I am
Take a look inside my life I bet you think it's perfect no strife but its actually the opposite the constant consonant of a continent that's how my life is when you look on the other side but it feels like there's nobody by your side it's tough.
it wasn’t my choice
i want everyone to know
i didn’t want to do this
but They grabbed me
They threatened me
They told me
my family would suffer
i had to protect them
Terrorism Isn't Me
There is one thing that has been bothering me
That I must address
It bothers me
Facing Adversity
There is one thing that has been bothering me
That I must address
It bothers me
Just like a pest
With my head held high
And my hijab* a blazing sign
Of my identity
I step out into the open world
And a torrent of whispers unfurl
Suddenly around me
Amid the stares, the looks, the sneers,
My hijab is my identity. It covers and protects me.
My precious skin not to be seen by any eye. What ever happened to women being shy?
I am from the dry desertthe sands that dance in the windI am from the heat of the sunthat warms our heart at the time of warI am from the coldness of the winterthat settles in our hearts during tough timesJust because I'm a Muslim and and Afghan,d
They have always asked us a question
Judged us like a book cover
And they expect us to answer
We’ve been through harsh times
Of discrimination because of our skin
The morning two towers fell from the skies,Still can’t walk outside without questionable eyesStaring at me through preconceived lenses;I fit their stereotype.
It could be anything, a man
strapped neck-high in bombs, Sunni
sweat, dust and black curled
chest hair
a grandmother
with fresh mandarin oranges from the market,
When you think of islam, what do you see? A group of women covered modestly. Dressed in cloth that covers the body. Men all smiling and hugging profoundly. Praying to the One and Only Almighty. Giving charity and helping our friends.
Hijabs, Prayer rugs, Tasbeehs, Salats, Bows, Pilgrimage
I started with my creed but I forgot to say Bismillah first
Because in the name of God, the most gracious, most merciful
Old people are worthless. They waste their life complaining, they can barely drive, and half of them are senile.
They have nothing to contribute to society.
Stop me if you’ve heard this one:
The Other Side
Egyptian.
What does it mean to be?
Me, I would not know
any more than a fish knows
to survive above water.
How would I know?
I do not understand.
No hello to people on the street.
Keep walking, keep walking
Don’t make eye contact
Shit, are they talking to me?
Keep walking, keep walking.
We are cold individuals.
