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Mariya
39/F/Харків, Україна    Kare he tikanga i roto i te rau tau. Geduld ist ein goldener Schlüssel, der mit der Zeit jede einzelne Tür öffnet.
Mariyam Ridha
17/F/India,Kerala    finding solace in writing.
Mariya Jawed
13/F/Karachi, Pakistan    Writing is my pasion it was never my profession...-mariya jawed

Poems

IcySky Jan 2016
Beautiful, smart, sassy, fierce, kind, and sweet.
A girl of sugar and spice and everything nice.
She's like no other girl you know,
And if you're lucky to know her, never let her go.
She's brains and beauty.
She always makes me laugh.
I love her so much, my girl.
She'll never speak bad of you, unless you mess with her, or the ones she loves.
She's stronger than she knows,
Never weak, even when she feels she is...
This girl is the most amazing girl I know... I love my babe to the moon and back! Her name is Mariya Sayed!!!
Mariya Timkovsky Jul 2012
What’s in a name?
It is what turns heads
It can cause a quiver in your body
Or a smile to curl onto your lips.
A name can be tarnished
Or reborn.
It can make you stand out from the crowd
Or join the masses.
It is more than what society deems
A socially acceptable form of
Introduction.

So let me introduce myself:
I used to feel my name in harsh syllables
Rooted in the language of my people’s history.
MAR or MIR meant bitter.
Like having the wrong taste in your mouth
Reminding me of MARor –
Eaten on Passover to remember how burdensome,
Difficult and bitter the Jews’ slavery in Egypt was.
IAM (YAM) – ocean.
Tumultuous, never still.
Always swirling and scaring children out of it.
MIRIAM – my Hebrew name.
Bitter sea.
I grew into that name resentfully.
I reacted when I was called that by fellow classmates,
For what else could I do?

But time went by
And I began collecting seashells by the seashore.
The ocean became a treasure and my name
Had a new ring to it.
Yet when eighth grade graduation came around I was given the option
Of writing Mariya instead of Miriam.
I was going to high school where I didn’t know anyone.
So no one needed to know my bitter past.
I also learned that a name was not made up of syllables
But of sweet sounds.
Mmm – like the taste of something so delicious your eyes close
And you feel yourself melting.
Aaa – you’ve just finished your meal and on this hot summer day
You find solace in the cool water running down your back in the shower.
Rrr – racing, running, reaching for the sky.
That’s the sound I want my plane to make when I can hold a piece of
Cloud in the palm of my hand and feel its silver lining.
Iii – the sound of “and” in many languages. The sound of something more,
Reminding me that this is not the end.
Ya – the sound of agreement and conclusion. As if that is all I have to say…so yeah.