Submitted by Anonymous on Thu, 2009-07-16 21:28
Monia Hamam, age fifteen, a junior, was born in Iraq. She lived in Baghdad for twelve years and then moved to Jordan in 2005 after the Iraq war began. She came to Seattle in 2008. Monia is looking for a shimmering future to make her parents proud of her. She hopes to become an engineer to help her country. improve. Monia is Iraqi and she is proud.
Poetry is a really beautiful and easy way to express your feelings, explain to people about your life and make them understand your culture and show them the truth. When I write poetry I must give the reader more details by using words that have deep meanings to show him the real image of the subject and make him feel like HE is the writer, make him so excited he wants to keep reading the poem.
My life is a ship full of memories. It travels around the entire world. From every country it takes the best memory before leaving that country. My ship started its journey after the war in Iraq.
My life is like a bird. The bird escapes from the winter from one country to another. My family and I left our country because of the war and the bad situation that happed after the war. We lost many beautiful things in our life. It is like a flower. Before the war, the flower had a beautiful fragrance, now it has lost its good smell.
I feel that I am in the deepest point in the sea. I want to breathe, but I can’t. But I can live there because I see a very small light is calling to me. The light is my dream and my quest in this life. I wish to become someone important. My parents want me to be a doctor and I want to make their wish for me to come true. If I can make my dream come true, then I will get out of the dark sea and I will see the light and I will breathe again.
My life is like a diary book
like a big piece of paper
you can write anything on it
you can draw many things too.
My life is like pencil colors,
there are hot colors,
there are cold colors,
in Iraq we have two seasons
Summer, so hot
Winter, so cold
there are light colors, the bright morning
there are dark colors, the beautiful nights
with a big white moon shimmering
from the far sky,
with bright stars waving to us with a big smile.
I remember when I was young, Baghdad at night
was like a big golden box
full of colorful jewels
like a mother trying to protect her children each moment
like a source of love, safety and fun.
But, now she is old, exhausted
grieving for losing thousands
of her strong children.
All because of what?
Because of the Iraqi war.
From quiet songs
And lots of Massarrah (happiness)
From huge celebrations
From a big castle
Full of Maowaddah (congeniality)
From gardens of white flowers
From the words, smile, life and hope
From words that have been dead since 2003
From many voices;
From the read, white, green, and black
From the three stars
From the words
From Red fighting, my people’s blood
From white background, that is my past
From Green earth, my country’s fruits
From Black present, which is the war
From who made the Iraqi’s history
From Tigris and Euphrates rivers
From the Uruk, that the word Iraq was taken from
From Archaic cuneiform
From Akkadian cuneiform
And from Assyrian cuneiform
From delicious food
From excellent tastes
From amazing desert that is only in my country
From my future
From a student at school
From a girl in a college
From an adult in a university
From a successful engineer
Proud of where I’m from
I came to the U.S.
But I am still Iraqi
That’s right that I speak different languages
But my favorite language is Arabic
I’m Iraqi and I’m Proud