Three Poems

Orange Juice 

“What would you like to drink?” The flight attendant asked me, “orange juice” I replied. I hoped that the orange juice would calm my anxiety and give me the feeling of comfort I had back home, however it didn’t; the orange juice was bitter, at that moment I figured how bitter and painful life will be outside of my home country. Back home we would all gather around helping my grandma to make orange juice, we would peel the oranges, pass the sugar, stir it with cold water, pack it and freeze it to drink later. Oh it was so sweet, so comforting. I tried to recreate it, wishing it would give me a taste of home, of the safe place, of family but I failed. I peeled the oranges and added the ingredients, however it never tasted the same. I asked my grandma why her orange juice is special, she told me her two secret ingredients are love and family. Now I realized I will never have an orange juice like my grandma’s ever again. 

“Too ashamed”

My tongue has been colonized, It’s too ashamed to speak its native language. My tongue is too afraid to be seen for its true colors, what might other tongues think? “No no I have to hide my true identity, I can’t be seen, I can’t be less, I can’t be me”. How do I convince my tongue to be an instrument, to play more than one beat, to speak more than one language, to have different accents. “how do I convince my tongue to take pride of its origin, to be free.”

 Still beautiful

You hold so much beauty,

Regardless of the war,

Despite the so much uglinesses in the world,

Even when everything seemed to be against

you,

trying to exhaust you,

You are still beautiful.

I looked into your eyes during a bomb explosion,

and you made it look like fireworks,

You make death look like a new life, a new birth,

a new beginning.

You hold so much power,

You could easily turn any tragedy into an

opportunity,

Your smile will light up the darkest rooms,

Your laugh will always change my mood,

To a better one,

Nevertheless of world hunger,

On an empty stomach for days,

Your voice fills me up.

Nothing could ever dim your light