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Best Poems Written by Samia Ali Salama

Below are the all-time best Samia Ali Salama poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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The Gladiator

Blood mixed with dirt was still moist on the ground.
Traces of battle were scattered around.
The man entered slowly, a snare on his face.
Trying to hide his contempt and disgrace.

Announced by the cheers of the people above.
Among all the fighters they showed him most love.
Never defeated, no matter the foe.
With him they all knew they would soon see a show.

The man was all muscle, and seven feet tall.
Compared to his size, all the guards appeared small.
His skin was tanned golden, his eyes piercing green.
His hair long and braided and dark with a sheen.

His helmet of metal was fitted just so.
His sword and his shield had a rich, shiny glow.
A belt made of leather protected his waist.
His greaves, thick and sturdy and perfectly laced.

Suddenly silent, the crowd had grown still.
Awaiting arrival, expecting a thrill.
And then there was thunder, the roar of the beast.
Declaring his entrance, predicting a feast.

The man and the lion began in their game.
Predator, prey, they both looked the same.
They circled and circled and then in a blink.
The cat had attacked, so anxious to drink.

They struggled together, locked in a war.
The crowd cheered them on, hoping for gore.
And then he was bitten, the wound on his leg.
But he would not fumble and he would not beg.

He reached for his weapon so close where it lay.
He would not accept this would be his last day.
And just as the creature had pounced in the air.
He killed the great cat with his sword and a prayer.

The fighter stood up with his blood dripping down.
The steel of his helmet concealing his frown.
The great gladiator continued to reign.
Another he killed, one more smile he must feign.

Details | Samia Ali Salama Poem

The Magic River

Deep inside the forest of the Elvin King.
There flows a magic river from an ancient spring.
They say its special waters hold the mystery of youth.
And should you take one little drink you’ll know that it’s the truth.

The waters all originate from way up in a fountain.
That’s hidden very cleverly inside of Elvin Mountain.
The extraordinary liquid looks like little diamond chips.
Granting youth to everyone with one or two small sips.

The river has a secret that is only known to elves.
For centuries, the mystery still kept between themselves.
They say it is the reason that they live so very long.
And that aside from giving youth it also makes them strong.

People come to drink the waters from the distant lands.
Even from the ocean and the beaches rich with sands.
Everyone has tried to guess its power through the years.
Little do the people know the river’s strength is tears.

For every time a little baby elf begins to cry.
They take the little baby tears up to the mountain high.
They drop them in the fountain where they travel down the spring.
Creating all the magic that the river waters bring.

One small sip of precious water on a person’s tongue.
Will instantly transform them to the way when they were young.
So if you find the Magic River take a sip or two.
For it will surely make you feel just like you are brand new.

Details | Samia Ali Salama Poem

Roy and the Land of Books

In the land where children play.
A boy named Roy would sleep all day.
No matter what his friends all said.
The boy would not get out of bed.

For he was very bored with toys.
The ones for little girls and boys.
He said that they were all the same.
The cars and trucks and every game.

But then one day Roy got a book.
He figured he would take a look.
And when he opened up the cover.
Of books he soon became a lover.

He read the book from front to back.
He read about a boy named Jack.
And all about a silver train.
And then about a place called Spain.

He read about each moon and star.
And just how far away they are
He learned of ancient histories.
And many science mysteries.

Soon he had a big collection. 
Of which the boy had great affection.
His favorite thing to do was read.
He learned to do it with great speed.

One afternoon a friend came by.
And asked if he could also try.
To read a book instead of play.
Immediately, Roy said, ‘You may.’

Soon his books were being read.
By Sue and John and little Ted.
That’s how the land of toys became.
The land of books instead of games.


For Francine Roberts' Children in Rhyme contest, by Samia Arroyo

Details | Samia Ali Salama Poem

A Siren's Serenade

The sun is slowly fading and it’s almost twilight time.
The ocean’s strong vibration beckons me to rise from deep.
The ship announces its approach, its horn an ocean chime. 
Waking me from slumber in the ocean where I sleep.

I move with lightning speed emerging quickly to the top. 
The sailors all come out to hear my haunting siren’s song.
I swim around the vessel as it slows and then it stops. 
From that time, and forever, to me they all belong.

My lovely iridescent tail will sparkle in the night.
I serenade them with my tune while diving in and out.
A potpourri of colors that will dazzle and delight. 
Before too long they will be lost inside my spell, no doubt.

I’ll circle all around the ship and mesmerize each one.
Then slowly hypnotize each man until the morning sun.


Written by:  Samia Ali Arroyo
March 30, 2012
Contest: Debbie and Cyndi's Sonneteers
English Sonnet

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From Majority To Minority

As they say, “Where there’s smoke, there is fire”
In this case it is certainly true
For a people who once ruled so many
find themselves more in place of the few
For so long they have led with a vengeance
but the tide has now started to turn
The majority finds itself strangely, on the fringe of a party that burns

They arrived from the sea with a mission
Took the land and its natives by force
With their muskets and weapons of killing
t’was a violent beginning, of course
Then they sailed overseas with their weapons
for they needed a country to build
There they found what they sought in another
and the blood of the innocents was spilled
Man-made laws justified the enslavement
as they bartered for precious ‘black gold’
Never needed a currency system as the humans were bought and were sold

Generations of slaves built the country
all their blood soaked the land that we share
As the children were ripped from their mothers
they survived on their will and a prayer
But the winds that bring change were upon them
and the nation was soon torn in two
So they fought to the death with their weapons
From the blood and the ashes we grew
Many more later died seeking justice
slowly gaining new rights never known
To these giants we owe our freedom
and in time we have certainly grown
But in spite of our laws and our freedoms
there are many who hold onto fear
As they honor their ancestors’ visions and the power they once held so dear

All their talk of a government body
who will come and will take guns away
Truth be told it is not what they’re fearing
but a country that’s changing to grey
As the races are coming together 
the majority slowly will wane
As descendants of those once in power 
feel the strength of minority gain
In their hearts they are mourning the passing
of a time which has long-ago gone
And the power they had over others
now a reckoning is born in the dawn
So they scream out the 2nd Amendment
wrap themselves up in red, white and blue
But their time, like their fathers’ is ending 
A majority rises anew.

Details | Samia Ali Salama Poem

MAGA Deep

They idolize a villain with no integrity.
A conman void of honor and filled with misery.

A man who cares for no one, each sentence ends with me.
For this, the MAGA cult, will give-up sweet democracy.

Uneducated, ignorant, they’ll reap all that they sow.
A life without the Courts and laws they all have come to know.

The weapons which they cherish would be a memory.
The Constitution and Amendments, gone with history.

‘Free Speech’ would be forbidden, for only tyrants speak.
The free Press would be silenced, our future, sad and bleak.

They take for granted freedoms they’ve had since they were born.
To honor a false idol who lives inside his storm.

And that which made them human is somehow sadly gone. 
No empathy or sympathy, just angry MAGA pawns.

Now some are on a mission for a cure to this disease.
To date, it is elusive, like the wind inside the trees.

Details | Samia Ali Salama Poem

Snow Cone Magic

The red umbrella was the sign
An icy treat would soon be mine
A memory when I was young
When snow cone magic cooled my tongue

A block of ice perched on a cart
A masterpiece, a work of art
The line was long but soon I’d be
Filled with joy and summer glee

I watched the vendor scrape the ice
Fixed upon the strange device
Particles that sprayed about
Cooled my face from summer’s drought

Then he shaped the precious chips
I dreamed of how they’d cool my lips
Now the time to choose at last
My flavor choice the man would ask

Coconut would always win
And so he’d start to pour and spin
A bottle rich with sweet delight
Oh how I loved that icy sight

Done and paid now it was time
True happiness for just a dime
Then racing fast against the sun
As coco ice would melt and run

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Spitting Watermelon Seeds

Watermelon slices.
That smell so ripe and sweet.
Take me back in time again.
When mother sliced the treat.

Sitting in the kitchen.
With the window opened wide.
Spitting watermelon seeds.
Out to the other side.

Details | Samia Ali Salama Poem

Having a Bad Day

Today I had the roughest day that I have ever had.
Of all the crazy, wacky ones, this day’s been really bad.
It started when I first woke up and fell out of my bed.
I cut my scalp so deep the blood was dripping from my head.

I found some gauze and taped it on until the bleeding stopped.
I put the coffee on then in the shower quickly hopped.
But then I dropped the bar of soap, that’s when I slipped and fell. 
I twisted my right ankle and my knee began to swell.

I poured some shampoo on my head and lathered up my hair.
But some of it got in my eyes and burned beyond compare.
Then as I limped out of the tub and went to grab my towel.
I noticed something smelled real bad, something very foul.

The eggs that I was boiling were now burning in the pot. 
The house was filled with smoke and the alarm just wouldn’t stop.
I grabbed the broom and swatted the alarm with all my might.
Instead I hit the ceiling lamp and shattered the whole light.

I quickly backed away as glass had flown around the room.
The day was only one hour old but I was filled with doom.
I opened up the windows and the smoke went streaming out.
My neighbors must have called the firemen I have no doubt.

Then in the hazy smoke I got some glass stuck in my foot.
I guess I should have sat right down and really just stayed put.
The firemen were quick to come, and call an ambulance.
I felt like I was in a daze, a crazy dream or trance.

The EMS removed the glass that stuck inside my feet.
They bandaged up my ankle and my knee, they were so sweet.
I guess I just can’t win, so back to bed I’ll go and stay.
And hopefully, tomorrow it will be a better day.

Details | Samia Ali Salama Poem

Stuck In Bed

I know my supervisor thought I lied, the day I said.
The reason that I had been out was I was stuck in bed.
I tried explaining desperately the rain had been to blame.
He looked at me like I was nuts, it really was a shame.

I told him that the night before it had rained cats and dogs.
So much that by the morning time the flooding hit the bogs.
And seeing how my little house is near a swampy creek.
It wasn’t long before my house had sprung a great big leak.

His face got twisted when I said my house got washed away.
And pretty soon my house was floating on Big Hollow Bay.
I told him in great detail how the planks began to break.
And how I wound up floating in my bed in Big Bear Lake.

I finally was rescued by the firemen in town.
It took them many hours just to pull my bed in ground.
So like I said, I told him that the rain had been to blame.
Unfortunately, I don’t think that he believes my claim.