The black night’s cloak surrounds,Shadows that eat at my thoughtsOn the lonely dirt roadOf that which I call life. The crickets chirp in the creek,Dancing melodies that escapeWhen you search for them,Yet always exist on the side. The sun never really disappears,Even in the darkest winters,Or the cold nightsWhen it hides behind the earth. But…
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…
See, my name is Samra Samra Kesinovic. By now, the letters that string together into the formation of my name Have disappeared into the horizons of numbers and numbers ticking into television screens, tallied dashes, And flying announcements. “One gone!” the media screeches! “Never Come back!” they cry. See, my name is Samra and my…
Al-Talib interviews Hamza Siddiqui, a spoken word artist, who is a Junior at the University of the Pacific. In this exclusive interview, Siddiqui performs two spoken word pieces, one of which has not been publicly performed yet.
Oh Allah, how wonderful is Your creation Every day I see it’s majestic foundation And I try very hard to understand its wisdom To be able to comprehend the very power of the prism Through these miracles do I see Your signs Blatant as is a diamond in the mines Yet, such wisdom only comes…