
When the Monsters Come
The Taliban, those scorpions
In black turbans
They sting our nation
With their poison
The Taliban, those scorpions
In black turbans
They sting our nation
With their poison
Her skin stained with bruises
Her mind fills with clouds
Her face blue with punches
She is an unusual flower on the ground
I hate winter’s icy cold weather, the lack of equipment, the sea of mud it creates afterwards, but I love the warmth winter brings to people’s hearts and how it brings people closer.
A child dictated to his mother how his older sister should dress and threatened to kill his sister if she didn’t, and his mother found it entertaining.
Charlie Hebdo’s staff knew what they were doing; they knew the risk they were taking and I think they thoughtfully made cartoons to outrage Muslims, which succeeded, and led to their own deaths.
My voice does not shake when I speak
I look in your eyes
And ask my questions
Standing upright like Hindu Kush
“I can’t help but to imagine what the household men felt when they heard their women’s screams and crying while they were raped by thieves. Probably it’s the worst punishment for a man to see his honor get dishonored. God damn these rapists; they should be punished to death.”
My glass bangles sing out
To remind me that Eid is here
The blue ocean seems dark to the eyes of a disappointed heart.
The ocean bears no beauty but loss.