Obsession

by nouriguess   Jun 11, 2020


Yesterday,
a news reporter
mentioned
the word "poverty" for
the first time.

Ten years of hunger,
and only yesterday,
for only one time,
our reason of death was
talked about during
the four p.m. news, for
fifteen minutes.

I sat to allot my madness
on a sheet of paper, to opiate
my amygdalae
by setting words free.

Who are we, really?

"Syrian" is no longer just
a nationality, it became a mood
disorder. You ask someone
"What's breaking you?" And
they can answer
"Nothing, I'm just a little
bit Syrian".

You want to know
what I think?
I think it's backwards for us.
Hell then
death then
life.

Our hearts could laugh again
and watch the sunrise. But
first, they must
let go.

Trees are tied
by their roots deep down, or
they would've walked away
from here.

Walk away from here.
Guns are stronger than dreams.

Take a breath,
and leap. Next, there is

life.

    report violation
2


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Latest Comments

  • 3 years ago

    by Poet on the Piano

    I agree with Danny that I think this is one of your greatest poems. I've read this 5 times now and still take in a deep breath at some lines and exhale at the ending line of "life" that shows hope and promise. You always have an openness and vulnerability in the emotions and memories you share, but this felt even more than that. What many of us don't know and will never possibly know since we are not Syrian. There's always so much of you in your poems, your voice holds power and countless lines here deepen the meaning of being a warrior, of still welcoming and jumping into life in spite of everything. There's a sense of pride, of identity and of power in letting your voice dictate the next steps.

    All the love!

  • 3 years ago

    by D.

    'Guns are stronger than dreams'

    Nothing more needs to be said really does it?

    15 minutes for endless years of suffering.

    Noura, this is incredibly heartbreaking. I can't even imagine. It's possibly one of your greatest poems due to the scathing openness of your words here. It almost has a mocking tone, sheer disbelief, as if you're struggling to utter the words you're writing. There are so many lines here that stand out. This poem is pure force.

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