Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Poem ONE of 30-day poetry challenge (Why I Write)

write for me
Not to please an audience
or for the applause or snaps
I write to make sense of things
and put myself at ease

I write for those women

who carry the world's burden
on their shoulders
Who's backs solid enough
to hold all of my worries

I write for those beaten

black and blue, who
with every wound
tell an untold story of
Not abuse

If victory isn't getting back up
after being pushed down
i don't know what is

I confess in ink
what my vocal cords couldn't
I glue together with thin strings of prose
In hopes of echoing the cries
of a hungry child

or to reach deep down in the dark dungeon
of my conscious

If Freud was right in saying,
that we never forget anything,
only repress it

I write to forget

Because it 's the only thing I've been left with
Other than pieces of a broken heart
and empty tissue boxes

I don't write to please
But to make sense of things

To tell this narrative of a girl,
once lost and broken,
Wore her heart on her sleeve,
always afraid to breath too loud.
Only interrupted to agree,
Made sure to never bump into you,
Didn't want to be perfect just beautiful,
Not to find a pocketful of sunshine,
But I heart full of happiness, and pride

I write for that women i met in japan.
Who even with hands fresh
from sprinkling the ashes of her died daughter
Smiled and said:
"I am grateful"

I never understood how that was possible
What is the line between strength and insanity?
to me that was insanely strong

I don't write about first world problems!
I am sorry that Jimmy broke up with you,
And that Stacy stole your food
But there is more to life
than a shattered ego or a frozen pizza

I write for my mother.
And all the Somali mothers
Who stood hours and hours in immigration lines
so we wouldn't have to

I write for those who are grateful.

Not the ones that sag their pants
And turn their hats
"Hey shawtie you workn with some ass"

But the Abdis and Ahmeds who remember
that heaven is under their moms feet"
Who know that their ancestors weren't
in shackles and chains
And have no business saying words like ne--
Grow up and be men
make us have faith in our country.

I don't write
for those Guled's and Sharmarkes
who build ramparts in every girl’s heart
who play with the devil and expect to win
Get too high for their own good and
Stood too close to danger,
becoming immune to it

i don't write for the “Us” and “Them”
I write for “We”!

The Aminos and Fadumos touting a degree
The beautiful women
who give great hugs and advice

I don't write for
Laylas and Halimos who stopped
being themselves for others
But the ones who do as they please

I write for the guy
I have a kindergarten crush on
who sits next to me

who's breath smells like hard work and coffee
His chocolate skin makes a early
Morning run to the library worth it
His name is ___________
I am pretty sure he has a girlfriend

I write for me
Not to please an audience
or for the applause or snaps
I write to make sense of things
Or to put myself at ease

I write this for me...

Naima Mohamed
Copyright © 2011

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