Words Have Power

Stay Blossoming

My poetry is not necessarily

Remarkably great

I write because it’s an odd pleasant struggle

To unscramble my far-fetched thoughts

Into words

And somehow, allowing complete strangers relate.

I’m often asked,

When and why did you get into poetry?

It’s a really long story

But the why, definitely not for glory

The when? We’re talking as soon as I realized

How words rhyming to me is pure zen.

When I write a poem

The thrill is the same as finishing a painting

The canvas being the frustrated bottled feelings,

The ink bringing colour to my never-ending musings.

Poetry is a lifestyle

A means of essential clarity

Turning vague inklings of what I fancy or fear I feel

Into words acknowledging the situation as valid and real

When my mind has wars being fought inside it

Writing becomes my personal armor of sanity and mental uplift

Because as soon as I can make sense of the battles raging inside,

Then immediately all conflicts within cease and I’m fine.

Words are power,

Even if no one but yourself ever hears or reads them.

If you can put honest words to your values and truth,

Then no one and no media can ever make you doubt your worth.

Words have power,

Even if no one but yourself ever hears or reads them.

You have to realise, that growing up

I hid my identity a lot.

It was never exactly out of shame per say,

But merely because what I said uselessly went in folks’ ears one way,

And out the other way.

I’m Canadian.

“No, but where are you really from?

English is not your first language.”

I didn’t have the words then to say that

Canada was not their “home” either

For English and French being the First Nations people’s

Native tongues?… ironically, neither!

I’m Arab. My first language is Arabic.

I’m Muslim. And no, Islam is not the equivalent of being an Arab.

I’m Palestinian, Yes we exist, even if your map denies it!

“Ah, so you’re from the world of Disney’s Aladdin

Chopping hands left and right for desperate acts of sin

Arabian nights, Arabian days”

I didn’t have the words then, as I do today,

To take their ignorant expressions

And then eloquently proceed to slay

Those misconceptions.

Because words have power.

I now write poetry to describe beauty

But my journey started with slaughtering the ugly

Notions and stereotypes people had, still have, about me

Now? I’ve written enough poetry and claimed my own truth

To no longer let anything get under my skin

Trust me,

Even if no one but yourself ever hears or reads them,

Words do have power alright

So spill out your thoughts, and write.



And Allah knows Best.


(February 2019)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s