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Origins and Shattered Concrete

05 April, 2018: Origins and Shattered Concrete


by Noor Hindi

Origins and Shattered Concrete
some days you miss                           
the dusty, littered streets         
of your home, houses
hung from the yellowed
sky, loud boom
of the athan five times
a day. despite being
a temporary visitor, with
fingers clutching suitcases,
toes steeped in American
soil, someone always reminds
you of that makeshift hospital
on Queen Rania Street
where you were born. some
days you want to drown
in your grandmother’s black
abaya. love resides in arms
so you learned how to
walk that shattered concrete,
smoke smooth mint hookah,
dip pita bread into
zaat then zaatar, lay on rooftop
patios, haggle in crowded
bazaars, speak Arabic, hear
your name, noor ― as in light ―
spoken with a rolled r, spoken
like it should be.

“Origins and Shattered Concrete” by Noor Hindi, from Foundry. September, 2017. Used by permission of the author.
Noor Hindi is currently pursuing her MFA in poetry through the NEOMFA program. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Glass Poetry, Jet Fuel Review, Diode Poetry, Whiskey Island Magazine, Flock Literary Journal and Foundry. Her chapbook, Diary of A Filthy Woman, is forthcoming in 2018 from Porkbelly Press. She reads poetry for the University of Akron Press and writes for The Devil Strip, an Akron arts and culture publication.


Write a poem to a favorite snack from your childhood: graham crackers or Oreos, your grandma’s raisin-filled cookies or your neighbor’s corn pone, tins of stale popcorn, peanut butter on a cabbage leaf or pizza for breakfast. Mention whether you eat it now.

Ginger Meeder
Emotional Sustenance

freshly baking biscuits
enticed me through the front door
even if they were from a can
sizzle of salmon patties
seduced me
with it’s frypan cha cha
my mother with her head
bent over the pan as she stirred
up white flour gravy after a pat
of butter was flung into the drippings
of salmon and broth from the can
I would find myself salivating
for the food ecstasy
that awaited me
with 2 eggs over easy
slapped over those
hot piping steaming
biscuits lathered in white gravy
dotted with black pepper
impatiently I would prod her
is it ready yet?
is it ready yet!
In my after school hunger
I would conquer all those
school monsters and bullies
with my fork engulfing them
Into oblivion with every lip smack
not sparing a morsel
only later to realize
it might have just been food for some
but it gave me, my mother comfort
more than even my daddy ever could.

---©g.a.meeder, 2018®
4/25/2018 1:17:38 PM

Burnt or chewy
Salty or gooey
The greatest reason
for Italian food

Thin crust is best
But thick will do
Layer on the sauce,
the oil, the basil,
Maybe some meat
Extra cheese

Live it, eat it
Not healthy but
No regrets
4/5/2018 7:20:38 PM

N. K. Hasen
Chocolate Covered Raisins

Your sweet chew taste in the center
Surrounded by oval shell of chocolate
In a bag I could shake you
Hear the clinking back and forth
Like marbles moving around
I would stop; dig my tiny fingers in
Pull one or two of you out
Pop them in mouth like popcorn
Let the chocolate melt
Until I chewed through to the sweetness
Dreamily I savored each one of you
Till the bag was empty
Going back to grandma to see if there’s more
I stopped eating you once I grew
Until I found your organic chocolate covered raisin friend
Now on special time I can savor
What I had when I was young
4/5/2018 10:19:13 AM

READ + WRITE: 30 Days of Poetry is a collaboration between Cuyahoga County Public Library and poet Diane Kendig. Our thanks go to Diane and the poets of Northeast Ohio who allowed us to share their poetry.