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Hana Nazir is a finalist for the Georgia Poet Laureate’s Prize

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June 2015
Hana Nazir is a finalist for the Georgia Poet Laureate’s Prize

 

 

Hana Nazir, a senior at Johns Creek High School, was selected as a finalist for the Georgia Poet Laureate’s Prize, from over 200 submissions from high school students. On May 13th, 2015, she met Governor Deal, the First Lady, and Judson Mitcham, the Poet Laureate of Georgia (far left in photo below), at the State Capitol. Hana was then given a tour of the Margaret Mitchell House.

 

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Hana's poem “Womanhood” concludes,
“The thick scent of jasmine dulls my senses
clinging to the sharp, crisp air that stings
as it roughly cuts into my tender wounds raw,
beaten to a pulp, to perfection.
All is well on this tranquil afternoon — so it seems.”
Read her full poem below.

Hana enjoys learning new languages, creative writing, and photography, and is a self-proclaimed science nerd. She is known for her spontaneous humor, random outbursts of trivia, and profound penchant for coffee. She will be attending Dartmouth College in the fall.

Website Bonus Feature

“Womanhood” by Hana Nazir
1.
The scent of jasmine is an intoxicating drug
that clings to the crisp air- softly, gently
whispering the ancient, withered secrets
that float like burnt, freckled leaves
All is well on this tranquil afternoon.
2.
Nai-Nai brandishes the bandages with bony hands
covered by skin like speckled tissue paper
Her knowing, sympathetic gaze passes over me
as she gently holds my virgin feet
untouched by society’s adulteration.
Bones stiffly snap like iced oak branches
engulfed by sickly, jaundiced, festering fluid
Flesh turns a dark plum, ripe with blood
blotting the soft cotton like fresh ink.
Finally, beauty.
3.
They gasp with admirable pleasure seeing
my mangled flesh with morbid delight
cooing like young mothers, whispering
as I clumsily stumble with internal anguish
How wonderful is womanhood.
Womanhood- an onerous, fraudulent affair
enclosing me in its vile, hungry tendrils
of tradition and purported sacrifice
strangling me till I choke out platitudes
of unconditional compliance.
4.
The thick scent of jasmine dulls my senses
clinging to the sharp, crisp air that stings
as it roughly cuts into my tender wounds raw,
beaten to a pulp, to perfection.
All is well on this tranquil afternoon — so it seems.
http://www.atlantamagazine.com/news-culture-articles/georgia-poet-laureates-prize-2015-meet-the-winner-and-finalists/#sthash.rHntcj4t.dpuf



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