2020-2021 Poetry

The Driver

Esteban Osegueda

The engine revs

As the car turns on.

Loud and ready,

As I keep my foot on the pedal steady.

I shift gears,

As I am on the highway,

while I steer.

A loud BOOM BOP.

I frowned. I knew this situation was full of doom.

The car flipped and landed face down.

I parried pieces of piercing glass flying towards my face.

Car Car Car

Where did it all go wrong?

Now, you leave me with scars scars scars.

Saying I have no feet,

ain’t so discreet.

I suppose it is my fault,

I should have just come to a complete halt.

Being drunk,

Everything about it stunk.

Ammi (Mother) – Syria

Bond Biryani

Having dinner with Ammi (mother) after our evening prayers,

I still remember her glimmering eyes as 

She fed me soup from her bowl.

Dusk grew into a dark, silent night as the sun went down,

The moon hid behind a cloudy gown,

She kissed me tenderly as I went for oil 

To massage her feet, she winced as she 

Lied on the off white cotton bed sheet,

I glanced out the window, oh the aroma of trees and soil,

The sounds of silence and birds, the humming of bees

I reached up the shelf  and got the oil,

As off I went, I heard a shriek from outside,

I witnessed a broken star shooting across the sky,

I watched in awe as it glared against the pitch black night,

I felt a poke against my heart,

felt a heat rise against me as it got bright,

I saw as it grew sharper than light,

I stood frozen against this dreary sight,

I heard my ammi screech from far, 

calling my name as everything went dark,

I saw her fading in a sway,

Screaming I reached out but she went away,

An eternity later my eyes opened and I looked around,

Everything was smoky and hazy, there was no sound,

All I heard were cries of hope dying against the fire,

I looked for my family in the smoke but to no avail. 

Under the fiery haze, I saw a heart wrenching site,

She laid there in front of me, my dearest ammi, 

I still remember that night, and her beautiful face,

I remember that sight, 

all it took was a matter of moments

For my life to become a never ending fight.

The taste of soup still lurking in my mouth, 

still had the oil on my hands,

When my ammi faded away in the faraway lands,

I still look at the sky with a mired heart,

A broken star fulfills a wish but this one tore my dreams apart,
I still visit the place, nothing left but debris and my razed fate,

I have a future big as a sea, I still have a life ahead of me,

But all I ever wanted was a spoon of soup from my ammi.

NCC Journal of the Arts