Fareh Malik
biography
Fareh Malik is a BIPOC artist from Hamilton, Ontario, as well as a seasoned spoken word poet and established author. Fareh was named the 2022 RBC PEN Canada New Voices Award winner. He was also the winner of Hamilton Art’s Shirley Elford Prize, The 2022 October Project Poetry Award, and MH Canada's 2020 Poetry Contest. Fareh's debut book Streams That Lead Somewhere was published in 2022 with Mawenzi House Publishers. Fareh was named a finalist for 2021 Best of the Net anthology and was honoured with the 2021 Garden Project grant to explore interdisciplinary work. His individual works have been published by literary presses all around the world. Fareh’s work has been described as critical, yet sanguine; poetry that often explores the intersection of racialization and mental illness, while maintaining a silver lining on its horizon. He loves to tell the story of his struggle, and of his community around him, in the hope that others can find inspiration and companionship in it. Fareh is currently a poet and author, working on his second collection.
creative process:
I am someone who uses personal experience and narratives to formulate my work. I like to tell the story of my persona traumas and triumphs in order to secure an introspective illustration of my life. I find that I work best when I am inspired by the little things around me that often go unnoticed. I write small little metaphors and excerpts in my notebook and try to find a way to piece these parts of my mind together. I think this fluidity and connection is something that speaks towards my way of writing-- something that often moves from point A to B poetically, yet effectively. I am inspired by stories of injustice, amplifying underrepresented voices, and working to create unity and compassion in my community.
Image curtesy of Mawenzi House
Poems by Fareh Malik
Chai
A white man called me that same tired word
terrorist
(don’t worry, I'm used to it)
what was once an insult
has become a verbal tick in frustration
we were in line at the 7/11
and he had chai in his cup
when he leaned into spiced steam
nose first
he couldn't even recognize my scent
Brown Skinned and Beautiful
We are the ones who look like the soil in your planters
and the gingerbread men you make on Christmas
the ones who are the coffee beans
your complex order from Starbucks
(we have been brewed to a fine dust)
I am someone who was given
quicksand skin-
an excuse for your harsh gaze
to sink in slow
I carry my mother’s sweet, chocolate words
and my father’s soot-soaked hours of labour
I am the brick for your chimneys and the lumber
sacrificed for the fire-
the spices you came to my people for
blended together in mortar and pestle
concocted the melanin that
you wished you could taste
I am the one you raised a gun at
the one you said looked like a threat
this skin was the stage where your appreciation
became fear
and from this I learned
no matter how nurturing the tree
people may still bring axes to our trunk
Sorry, Wrong Guy 2
If you didn't know
terror is an anesthesiologist
it sucks the life out of your limbs
as cocked handguns bark
get your hands up
fright is a pair of earplugs
that tune out police commands
and replace them with your mother's last words to you
horror is a cold day, practically freezing
it winds up a frigid right hook and
aims for your mouth
so when you st-st-stutter out that you're innocent
it barely makes it out of icy jaws
you see, if you're unlucky
fear will veil its face with 'non-compliance'
and invite bullets to the masquerade