people always told me that my
golden brown hair was the most
beautiful part of my being
and when the ends started to brush
against my eighth and ninth ribs
i decided i was beautiful

so i cut my hair till it rested
against the nape of my neck and
looked at myself in the mirror

and guess what?
i still felt beautiful

oh, hera
look upon me with your
piercing green eyes and
tell me of your woes,
of the fallacies you spin
around your ringed fingers;
tell me so i can learn how
to make the men drop to
their knees too

baby girl, i know he hurt you bad
real bad
but you gotta collect all of your
hopes and dreams in your hands,
put them in a knapsack,
and throw it over your shoulder
because it's gonna be a long road
and some nights those hopes and dreams
will be the only good that you have left,
and when those nights do come
hold your head and heart in either hand
and gently whisper "equal"
but make sure that you put them
back where they belong
because if you don't you're in for a
world of pain that not even your
hopes and dreams can handle

when you yelled at mom
the mind of it blew her hair back
and away from her lovely face

you force fed the words down her throat
and waited until she excepted it
as a form of nourishment

did you not see me
on the couch
watching it all

because i saw it
and i heard it

the yelling burned my ears
and the words were like
razor blades in my heart

i don't remember exactly
when my hips came in
but trust me, it was a lot like
free overnight shipping that brought
bigger pants
stretch marks galore
and the legs to go with them
suddenly i looked like a woman
and i didn't quite know what to
do with that

i don't want to be a flower
something to be plucked and looked at
i want to be a groundswell, a mighty wave
or a ravenous forest fire
i don't want to be adored
i want to be feared

and i know that sometimes lines of poetry
tumble from my mouth like a forgotten stream
and they get jumbled, the poets mixing together
the space between the words gets smaller
but i truly only want to share something
that even compares to the beauty of you

in her whisper i hear fire
in her screams i hear storms

what were you thinking as
you walked into that lake
with your pockets full of
rocks and a letter for your
husband on the kitchen table?
your mind ate you alive
and there was nothing
anyone could do to stop it
- how i wish i could have stopped it

i think you liked the way
my coronet of flowers was
tilted when i reached the
bottom of your black stone stairs
i think you liked the way i
placed the pomegranate seeds
one
by
one
onto my tongue and whispered
"don't tell my mother"
and i think you liked the way
i walked right up to you
as though you weren't a demon
but a fallen angels wanting to be loved
i smiled
and when you said my name...
that was the beginning and end
of everything

sometimes just to think of you
feels like dying because i believed
we shared a soul
but i had to grow my other half
after you left and the roots are still
sinking into the soil and the flowers,
they haven't fully grown yet,
but one day a garden will flourish
from my body and my mind will be
the sunlight that feeds them
- carranam

sometimes i think that even the flags weep

when terrorism reached its hands
into my inconsequential city
i wasn't quite sure what to think
the mosque was a place of worship
where people gather to pray and heal
but that lone wolf dropped a bomb
into that peaceful place
during their morning prayers
what possesses someone to do that?
can you tell me using the 26 letters?
can you please help me understand?
why in my city?
why in that beautiful place?
why do those who do not understand
others react with violence and hate?
can't they see the pain on the faces
of those now afraid to pray?
can't they feel it in the air?
taste it in the rain?
hear it in the wind?
because i can, and it's terrifying