the collective

9.24.21

4.59pm

.

•

The Aftereffects Of

This Tragic Event

.

Still Remain

In

My Mind

.

The Very

Depth

Of The Bowels

Of Thought

Probe And Prick At

My

Insides

.

Lives Were Lost

And I Could

Not

Imagine

Or Start

To

Imagine

The Pain This Caused

For So Many

•

.

.

•

The Rise of Islamophobia Rose

The

Blame,

The Pain, The Knives,

.

It Hurts to Be a Muslim in This Country,

It Hurts to Breathe It’s Air,

It Hurts My Body Being Here,

The Soil I Stand on Is Still There Because Of The People of Old That Have Been Wronged by The Same Country They Reside In,

.

It Is True,

I Know Nothing of The History,

I Only Hear Peeps and Whispers Through the Grapevine,

And Bits and Pieces of Seneca Villages Under Central Parks and Stolen Lands from The Indigenous,

•

.

.

•

You Ask Yourself- What Is This Poem About?

.

At First, It Was About How Muslims Were the Target of Blame After 9/11 Because Osama Bin Laden Claimed He Was a Muslim,

Sirs And Madams and Non-Binary Champions,

If I May Ask-

Or, State,

Or Claim- Or I Don’t Know,

My Thought of Train Isn’t Stationed Here,

.

You Ask Yourself What This Poem Is About,

.

It’s About Pain,

.

.

.

.

.

.

The Pain of The Deaths

.

The Pain of The Blame

.

The Pain of Stolen Land

.

The Pain of Bulldozing a Village for Something Commercial

•

.

It Started Out

“Muslims Were the Center of Attack for Blame After 9/11”

Then It Turned to The Collective Pain

Of The Many

.

.

.

__

Khat