By Evette JahangiriThe poem below is written in honor of National Minority Mental Health Awareness Month. Surviving is more than just making it to the next morning Surviving requires living It takes work to do the living Because to live requires you to be alive And suddenly Making it to the next morning does not seem so…
By Atika Qasim(Somewhere near Kraków, Poland – Budapest to Warsaw – Thursday, January 20, 2022.) Ever, in a fleeting moment, caught a glimpse of someone, that you wish for it to last forever? Alas, the moment passes, your destination arrives, and you exit the train from separate doors, moving away from each other… forever. You sit, completely…
By Evette JahangiriGrowing up, people always told me you never know a good thing until it’s gone Like a child, I didn’t listen I grew up thinking good and bad were as simple as the sun and moon I didn’t realize good and bad were more like cloudy days Abandoned playgrounds Overrun weeds Maybe if I had…
By Evette JahangiriThe first call to prayer was said 1400 years ago The first call to prayer was said by Bilal Once enslaved, now a free Black man This is his story You were born into slavery To a master who worshiped idols One day you heard of a man Who taught that every human was equal…
By Evette JahangiriI once asked my grandmother Why do bad things happen to good people? She simply responded God gives the most hardship to the strongest people he knows. Years ago My parents fled a war zone Left the sound of bombs and bullets Braved the air land and sea In order to come here Build their homes from…
By Iman HasanWith the popularity of the Netflix show Squid Game rising swiftly over the past few weeks, many fans have declared their love for the show’s Pakistani character, Ali Abdul. Player 199 (the number used to identify him in the game) is a hard-working, loyal man, who sparked debate among fans due to his personality and…
By Evette JahangiriThis poem is dedicated to Alan Kurdi and all the other children that have lost their lives at sea. Whenever a child has a nightmare We speak the dream into water Water will lure away the mare and only leave night behind We have spoken all our dreams into water Be it a faucet or a river The hope that our…
By Evette JahangiriWe have inherited our parents’ roots A mixture of home and homeland We plant these roots within ourselves Where we once standWe grow into a garden of ourselvesEach part a piece of our beingFlowers that were passed down to us through generations Trees that were added in along the wayFruit that our friends boreHere we…
By JUMMANAHSalaam means peace, and that’s how we greet. But the peace we don’t see on the streets of Paris, the place of Tour Eiffel, where the wrong goes by so well. You want protection? And so do we. You take on your armor, and say that it’s we who are trying to take on your…
By sarahmohrWhy Christmas Matters It doesn’t matter if Jesus Was born in April or December. It doesn’t matter, The merchandising that drives the masses. It doesn’t matter that the only thing The historical record can confirm Is that he died on the cross. I don’t think the changing of the cups at Starbucks, Or the proliferation…
By Mahrukh ZaidiAuthor’s note: This poem was written in honor of a devastating attack on a maternity ward in Kabul. Inna Lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un. Dear mama, You chose to push me out from the darkness into the light. As such I can never repay you back for the precious gift of life. I sleep soundly…
By MG StaffThe “Pandemic Paralysis” series is one in which the author will be exploring the effects of social distancing during the pandemic for those suffering from mental health challenges, and how the pandemic has exacerbated these challenges. Says the author, “I think many women can relate to how much more they are all of a sudden…
By Sana HarharaSomeone once told me, My mother carried my daughter first. It’s true! When we were in our mother our eggs form in the embryo as a fetus, My mother made room for my daughter and fed my daughter before I. And her grandmother the same with her and I, One day I will carry my…
By Sana HarharaDolkis, ghajaras, yellow and pink dust in the air, Laughter of mothers and aunts, cousins and nieces. A glimpse of happiness, Turns to sudden fears of the unknown. Decorated eyes looking up in desperation, The green glitter is dim but still shines. Torn and beaten with age, you can still make out…
By MaliyaThe Peace Studio, led by peace educator Maya Soetoro of the Obama Foundation, is launching a new campaign, 100 Offerings of Peace. This project brings over 10 countries together with both known and emerging creatives in visual, performing, literary, spiritual, and musical arts to generate new works about what peace means to them, how they…
