About Me

Hi, I'm Harper Lee Simmons. It's pronounced Har-peh, because my dad's from the south. He's a foreign service agent from the US; my mom's a professor from Morocco. I grew up dividing my time between Rabat, Casablanca, and the countryside, with occasional trips to France. (I speak Arabic, French, and, yes, English.) I was born in Morocco but spent my first year or two in the States to get some fancy medical treatments. Mom and I and my brother and sister usually hang out at home while Dad's away on business. I have a younger brother, Will, and a younger sister, Charlotte. Dad named us all after his "heroes of literature": Nelle Harper Lee, William Shakespeare, and Charlotte Bronte. Mom and us kids are Muslim and Dad's a Baptist. He met my mother on an assignment and hasn't been able to get his heart away from Morocco since. Now I'm in the States attending a boarding school. I got detained after a fifty-state whirlwind tour, probably because of my religion. Living at "home" has been difficult to adjust to, but I'm getting there. With some help from my wonderful teacher and new friends, my United States citizenship has become something tangible. Oh, and I'm a poet. Yeah, I might not be your typical American Girl... but I think that's something I can live with.

22 May 2006

Explaining the last poem...

I got the title from the first and last lines combined.

It's about my idol who helps me through everything and unknowingly helped this past year.

The line about mothers is about her being a mother, but not mine, but like a mother to me. Yesterday means last year. That is about all that needs explaining, I think, or that I want to explain.

Bad Dream, and a poem with lots of symbolism (for me at least)

Bad Dream

dad announces he is going to iraq
mum tells me on the phone
we'll be fine, he said, mum explains,
he says i feed the baby well
that's why he accepted
what baby? i am too afraid to ask
how much have i missed in only three weeks
thank God it was a dream
but why did it seem so real

how did i reason why?

how did i survive yesterday?
a sideways glance,
an utterance of intolerance -
would you have been proud of me,
standing by
while being mortified?
hoping, wishing
maybe - it is just a phase -
this is just the same.

looking through a mother's eyes -
not my mother, just a -
how does this reside?

do you feel the power you hold
as stories of past years unfold
my hidden strength has multiplied
and you my dear are reason why.