Naomi Shihab Nye

(12 March 1952 / St. Louis, Missouri)

Naomi Shihab Nye Poems

1. One Way or Another 4/30/2015
2. Business 5/13/2015
3. How Palestinians Keep Warm 5/16/2015
4. Snow 5/16/2015
5. Lying While Birding 5/22/2015
6. Many Asked Me Not to Forget Them 6/22/2015
7. Negotiations with a Volcano 12/10/2015
8. Arabs in Finland 6/10/2015
9. Arabic 5/16/2015
10. Valentine for Ernest Mann 5/9/2015
11. The Turtle Shrine Near Chittagong 1/4/2012
12. Song Book 12/1/2014
13. The Story, Around The Corner 1/4/2012
14. The Traveling Onion 12/26/2014
15. The Words Under The Words 1/4/2012
16. Loving Working 1/23/2016
17. Yellow Glove 1/4/2012
18. Wedding Cake 12/17/2014
19. Last August Hours Before The Year 2000 1/4/2012
20. Spruce Street, Berkeley 1/4/2012
21. Trying To Name What Doesn’t Change 1/4/2012
22. The Small Vases From Hebron 1/4/2012
23. San Antonio 1/4/2012
24. Hello 1/4/2012
25. Alaska 1/4/2012
26. Fundamentalism 1/4/2012
27. Jerusalem 1/4/2012
28. My Uncle’s Favorite Coffee Shop 1/4/2012
29. The Rider 1/4/2012
30. Hugging The Jukebox 1/4/2012
31. Shoulders 1/4/2012
32. Supple Cord 1/4/2012
33. So Much Happiness 1/4/2012
34. Boy And Egg 1/4/2012
35. Truth Serum 1/4/2012
36. Burning The Old Year 1/4/2012
37. The Art Of Disappearing 1/4/2012
38. Different Ways To Pray 1/4/2012
39. Famous 1/4/2012
40. Sewing, Knitting, Crocheting... 1/13/2003

Comments about Naomi Shihab Nye

  • Grace (10/24/2018 10:43:00 AM)

    Kindness is the poem's name. Thank you fellow lover's of her work.

    1 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Grace (10/24/2018 10:42:00 AM)

    Kindness is the poem's name. Thank you so much

  • Grace (10/24/2018 10:41:00 AM)

    Kindness is the poem's name. Thank you

  • Grace (10/24/2018 10:38:00 AM)

    the poem I'm referring to is Kindness

  • Grace (10/24/2018 10:35:00 AM)

    the poem's name Kindness

  • Grace (10/24/2018 10:33:00 AM)

    This poem has offered me so much comfort. I once had a shortened version that I can't find. If anyone out there knows it and can send it to me Thank you.

  • Gwen Pauloski (8/22/2018 10:24:00 AM)

    Ms. Nye is one of the authors whose work we study most frequently in my 8th grade English Language Arts class. Students have analyzed and imitated her poetry, and this year we will be incorporating a short story and short essay. Her voice resonates with them; her ideas and language stretch them.

  • Pamela Leonard (3/18/2018 5:13:00 AM)

    Your poems touch our hearts and we carry that essence with us onward...

  • Tzur Beni (4/12/2016 4:36:00 AM)

    Being a Poet should start with a wider look on situations and politics.Getting impression of the Palestinian without seeing the evil which is done by their leaders - not to solving but freezing the problem. The leaders are sacrificing their nation and encourage them to Bomb themselves on civilian in the name of ALLA .
    A Poet should encourage to change the attitude. To send voice of piece. To ask for leaders to solve the problem and invest in their nation.
    A real Poet should write Poem so Syrian not to kill their own people.
    A Poet who taking and manipulating words while staying in luxury USA is not a real Poet. I feel you try bring silence to your soul and your family immigration tries to cover it by words empty words lies and evil words. Which is not true. But it is worse than the leaders as it encourage to keep it in the name of the Poet.
    Take your ability to the sky and try to hold the terror of a nation which suffer but cause suffer to the world.

  • Megan M (5/20/2006 9:06:00 PM)

    I would like to point out some flaws in the previous commenter's reaction to Naomi Shihab Nye's 'To Any Would-Be Terrorists'.

    The numbers in [] will follow the comment with my thoughts.

    Ms Nye is sad to have to call the 9/11 murderers'terrorists'? Why? A poet lives to name things and name them truthfully. Is Ms. Nye in poetry or public realations? Don't be afraid to call things by name - terrorist murderers: that is what they were.[1] She claims 'they [The terrorists] wounded a huge community of people in the Middle East, in the United States and all over the world.' Maybe, maybe not; there was plenty of rejoicing throughout the middle east on 9/11. No, the terrorists - as Ms Nye wrote 'kill[ed] thousands of innocent, international people in those buildings and scar[ed] their families forever.' Now what were you saying about wounds? [2]

    'Because I feel a little closer to you [terrorists] than many Americans could possibly feel, or ever want to feel...I know what kinds of foods you like. I would feed them to you if you were right here...' In what sense does anyone feel close to hardened committed murderers? Why would anyone want to? Isn't that a bit vain? [3] Like poetry or the language of food, murder too is a language - the oldest in fact, as old as Cain and Abel. You feel closer to these monsters than I do - go ahead, be my guest. In reality I don't think you know the first thing about murder but your vanity has propelled to stake out a foolish moral posture. I'll grant that you know the foods the terrorists were raised on but before they killed they seemed to be more interested in booze and lap dances than conversation and couscous.[4]

    Ms Nye I grant points for wanting to believe that such monsters could be moved by home cooking, Rumi's poetry, mint and a good tongue lashing. If we could stop terrorism with these we would be pouring billions into tea shops and poetry readings. But we can't. Poetry is a dialogue of a human community and the 9/11 terrorists left the human community far behind some time before 9/11.[5] Granted Ms Nye writes to would-be terrorists but still, poetry is not therapy. Poetry is a self -dialogue of absolute freedom (just you and your paper and pen) - a freedom that is incompatible with religious fanaticism.[6]

    'But this tragedy could never help the Palestinians.'
    I wish Ms Nye wouldn't refer to 9/11 as a tragedy. It was an attack.[7]

    'Make our family proud.'
    Why would Ms Nye want these monsters in her family? Just because they scream Allauakbar before they kill people? Can't she see that these monsters take themselves out of the human family? To claim them as though they still possessed humane/familial attrubute and agency after they murder is morally vain and a little sick.[8]

    [1] True, a poet 'lives' to name things, however, that is not all that poetry is for. Poetry is expression and art, not just the naming of something. She is sad that she has to label them in such a way because she is sad that such labels must exist, not for the naming itself. Did you only read that first line? Or did you read the rest of the paragraph as well? Because if you only read that first line, you would have missed all of this:

    I am sorry I have to call you that, but I don't know how else to get your attention. I hate that word. Do you know how hard some of us have worked to get rid of that word, to deny its instant connection to the Middle East? And now look. Look what extra work we have. Not only did your colleagues kill thousands of innocent, international people in those buildings and scar their families forever, they wounded a huge community of people in the Middle East, in the United States and all over the world. If that's what they wanted to do, please know the mission was a terrible success, and you can stop now.

    Does that sound like she is afraid of calling them that? No, she is sad that such labels must exist.

    [2] This commenter sounds a bit bitter, hmm?

    [3] Ah dear commenter, you have missed the point of her statement. Ms. Nye is herself an Arab-American, and that is precisely why she feels 'close' to them - she doesn't feel emotionally close to them, she is culturally familiar and therefore knowledgable about them and their actions. It is not in the least bit vain, it is a testament of the deep-set roots of culture. She wishes to prevent such future crimes by teaching them to be peaceful, sit and drink tea and listen to poetry and be peaceful. Please, I would love to hear how you think this is 'vain' of her.

    [4] Your ignorance astounds me.

    [5] Have you ever actually studied poetry? Have you ever read any of the political poems that are floating around? Do you not understand that poetry was and still is a means of communication? It is not just a dialogue of a human community - it is a dialogue between a person and his or her surroundings, often to try to bring about change. Poetry is not only an expression of emotion, but a desire to make something different out of what we have.

    [6] Again, you are obviously very ignorant of what poetry is. I suggest reading a bit more of it before passing judgment such as you have.

    [7] Yes, it was an attack. But how was it not tragic? The loss of so many lives was not a tragedy? I point you to the definition of tragedy (number 2) . I do believe that a tragedy is exactly what September 11,2001 was. Pull your over-inflated head out of your bottom for two minutes and you would know that.

    [8] Again, you miss the point of her letter. It was not to the terrorists that are, it was to the terrorists who might be in the future. She is trying to pursuade them out of the deeds that so horrendously condemned a culture. She is trying to convince them that what they are doing is wrong, that it is not for God but for their own selfishness. I beg you, read the piece again without being so ignorant and blinded by your own prejudices. You might actually understand her words this time.

Best Poem of Naomi Shihab Nye


If you place a fern
under a stone
the next day it will be
nearly invisible
as if the stone has
swallowed it.

If you tuck the name of a loved one
under your tongue too long
without speaking it
it becomes blood
the little sucked-in breath of air
hiding everywhere
beneath your words.

No one sees
the fuel that feeds you.

Submitted by R. Joyce Heon

Read the full of Hidden

Two Countries

Skin remembers how long the years grow
when skin is not touched, a gray tunnel
of singleness, feather lost from the tail
of a bird, swirling onto a step,
swept away by someone who never saw
it was a feather. Skin ate, walked,
slept by itself, knew how to raise a
see-you-later hand. But skin felt
it was never seen, never known as

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