Chemistry of Community

Art, Lifestyle, Poetry

Chemistry of CommunityThe world is made of atoms,Both individual and packed.A combination of customs,Both tangible and abstract. Communities chemically composed,Elementally individual.But energy stored in bonds-Thermodynamically favorable. Each bond a different length,Yet each a notable factor.Changes based on wavelengthBut still can shape character: Our melting and boiling points,Supportive structural integrity.Our awareness and viewpoints,Solidarity and reactivity. It’s…

The Country Where Humanity Dies

Art

There is no cloud in the air, What is that smoke? There is no death in the neighborhood, What is that cry?  Those Yemen lands are so rugged Over there is Yemen, its rose is fenugreek  Those who go never return, Why? Yemen Turkish Folk Song(1) Yemen is a country set at the southeastern portion…

where the spirit lives on

Art, Poetry, Spirituality

Khawlah bint al-Azwar, fluttering cloth and clinking metal, deep in the heat of the desert; Squares her shoulders, draws a breath. Sends a word heavenwards, Eyes steely behind their shade. No fear must slake her resolve today. The hilt of the blade warms in her grip, the blood thrums under her skin- The spirit is…

Faith is Your Friend

Art, Lifestyle, Poetry1 Comment

The Name is quite a quandary, Constantly collecting curators. An identifier oft identified incorrectly, Ourselves the biggest perpetrators. “Hi, my name is Amal,” I said, “Just like a shopping mall.” Though reality disagreed within, I swayed to society’s call. For a year wandering lost, Unfamiliar and alone, Scraping by and trailing exhaust, Too willing to…

From Lew to Kareem

Art, Campus, Lifestyle, Spirituality

I remember walking inside the empty Pauley Pavilion for the first time. Visualizing the arena’s aesthetics, the baby blue Pac 12 logo inside the three-point line on either side, the famous UCLA logo on center court and all the retired jerseys that hanged above the arena’s seating. There was one jersey that stood out to…

Growing Up

Art, Lifestyle, Poetry

Growing up, I noticed my skin was different from the people I was surrounded with. I didn’t understand the color of my skin or why it made me innately less than. I didn’t know why a boy told me my skin resembled feces or why that meant I should be treated like I was from…