Fly to Iran

Poetry * Support
* Write for
* Editorial policy


By Ramtin
December 17, 2002
The Iranian

our Mother's once bathed
us in the wells of Zam Zam
where the prunes hold
trees like the prayer beads
in the early morning sun.
we were born into dreams
of exile, misplaced in our
we came to this land
where we're called ethnic


our sister's bought barbies
bleached their hair blonde
and started avoiding the sun.
our brother's fell in love
with wealth and lost themselves
in anglicized names.
we listen to eurotrash music
forgetting how the Qu'ran
dances off the tongue
like divinity.
we dropped


for ebonics that makes us all the


we are the forgotten,
oppressed who turn on
the television to see
family members spitting
blood. and burying
our Father's hopes
of redemption.
then we agree on the
war. And smile when
we are called "terrorists"
because we don't think
it is us CNN is talking about.

now our children will have children
and soon the ancient speech
will be lost amongst these latin
derivatives. yes, it will never
be as it was though our deepest
desires are still longing...

Email Your comments for The Iranian letters section
Send an email to Ramtin

By Ramtin

This wide-eyed nightmare
A short piece on prison

Our mama



Book of the day

Persian Letters
By Montesquieu

Copyright © All Rights Reserved. Legal Terms for more information contact:
Web design by Bcubed
Internet server Global Publishing Group