Yasmen sat quietly at her father’s funeral,
She didn’t feel anything.
Her father never understood America.
“Too much Freedom for da wemens” he would say.
He brought his wife to Saint Paul, Minnesota
in the 90’s when Muslims were hated.
She always said that “Saint Paul was the friend of Jesus.”
Working as a cleaner Yasmen’s mom, Dilara would walk home alone
late at night through the park.
Yasmen’s mom was beaten to death by Muslim haters in 2001.
Raised by her Father she had to cover up with the Hajib everyday.
He wasn’t there much but when he was he would tell
stories about old days in Iran before the war with Iraq.
“ I remember the ruins of Persepolis, Amir Chakhmaq Square,
View of cupolas of the bazaars, a minaret and a windcatcher in Yazd province
When I was young we believed there would be peace in the world.
We believed that Iran would be free always.”
Yasmen waited until the people left the funeral.
She stood up and and unwrapped her head scarf.
She rolled it in a ball and threw it at her father’s grave.
She began yelling at the grave: “Ya Ibn el Sharmouta”
Oh yes you want us to use English.
Well it means “Son of a bitch”.
Father father father,you never understood America.
You never understood the freedom and the promise.
You never gave it a chance. Always talking about girls being servants,
Well I’m not your servant now.
Now is the day I burn the hajib on your grave.
Now is the time of my freedom and promise.
Let Allah be burned in Hell I am an American,
And Long live Minnesota.
Go the Golden Gophers!!!!
-
Author:
David Wakeling (
Offline) - Published: July 20th, 2023 01:30
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 7
Offline)
Comments3
This short story looks familiar? Has it been published elsewhere?
Yes I published it on Allpoetry.
The cultural references are misplaced as a young Persian/Iranian American would not shout out in Arabic-fleeing from a religious state, forced hijab by parents is very unlikely-however I can understand the intent and appreciate the empathy, poet friend
You are entitled to you wrong opinions.It all happened.
You are entitled to creating poetry, but unless you were there with the family the whole time and witnessed and heard everything that took place and you quoted in your poem, you can not claim that “it all happened.” For example, right before the Iran Iraq war, the revolution had already happened and the glory was already gone. As of the existence of hate crimes and prejudice, it does happen including in case of the woman, but your fiction in all details can not be proven in its entirety , and therefore could be wrong. I just wish that when people claim their writings to be fact at least do some fact checking, historical and cultural research. Also, my opinion, is only a judgement based on the context you are presenting, and therefore could not be right or wrong, but an educated guess. Please don’t publish work if you don’t want comments. I have sent positive feedback about your work as well.
I grow weary of your kind.
I was hooked by these words David, and I believe that this happens in many ways in the way some parents control their offspring.
Freedom to be your own self is something that ALL deserve.
Andy
True.Thank you for your kind words Andy
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