Survivor!!

When I feel the worst I hope for the best.

 When I am weak I pretend to be the strongest.

 When the entire world is against me I hide my cardiac arrest.

Yes I am a survivor!!

 When my ship sinks I hold my tear.

 When the pain slices me I disown my fear.

 When you think that I gave up, I reappear.

Yes I am a survivor!!

 When you crash my dreams I grow stronger.

 When you rip my heart that I will rise with anger.

 When you think you broke me that I hold my head higher.

Yes I am a survivor!!

Aisha Afrah

Copyright © 2014

October 2nd 2011

It is October and no chills just yet.

The Londoners have already packed up for winter;

boots, hats, ear muffs and coats.

The last week has ruined our plans,

with the suprising summers weather and humid of days.

We were not ready but made use of the fortunate turn of weather.

-Random like life.

This reminds us that everything is unpredictable

and our feeble souls have no power;

except to accept

and go with what is handed to us.

Rejoice in sun, good-times and happiness.

And rub warm for the approaching sinister cold.

It is October and no chills have come yet.

I am 22 and still in awe of time, destiny and the unfolding history everyday;

Like the turbulent weather in the tide of life I have clashed with another.

When avoidance of connecting with others electric impulses is what I strayed from.

-Running away from any form of deepth has been my safety net of falls.

It is October and it has been 365 days times 2;

since I truely looked at another human being and saw Life,

instead of the inner death of me.

The trees are sunlit and confused with their autumn maroon jem-coloured leaves.

They feel submerged with the warm comfort shinning on them.

I know too well of their multitude of thoughts.

The grass is cooling but not anymore refreshing then knowing;

not one singular hair of grass was here last year.

-As my pain peaks-Randomized;

of all the little words, the razor-cuts and the larger knife stabs

of the hurt, the tears and emptiness.

Every piece of grass are like these.

And my awe stretches as I comprehend;

that one day all the darkness inside

shall be replaced by new grass.

Grass infantry in its roots but more well nurtured,

than my flowers and weeds through my adolences.

It is the second day of October,

and the cold has not hit just yet.

This day will go.

This time will go.

And it will never be that warm wonderful day in October again.

Amina A Mohamed

Maanso: Adeer

Adeero Adeero aduunka

Dhibkiisa aloosan adeero

Allow uu ku seego adeero.

Wixii intifaac leh adeero

Ammaan iyo raaxo adeero

Agtaada ahaade adeero.

Markaad ilmo dhaafto adeero

Aqoontana dhawroo adeero

Aakhiro ha hilmaamin adeero.

Abkaa waalidkaana adeero

Inkaartood awood leh adeero

Xaqooda ilaali adeero.

Adduunka dushiisa adeeroInaad arli leeday adeero

Ogsoonow wadankaaga adeero.

Afrika dacalkeeda adeero

Inaad ku aroorto adeero

Adigu ha iloobin adeero.

Adan Dirie

01/14/13

Amaal Said

Mother says I will know what disappointment
is when I am the God-fearing mother of one
who does not pray.

Somehow I became the daughter who owned legs that had
not prostrated in months.

I carried a mouth dirty with no room left for praise
until the ones that loved me turned bad.

‘Look at that one there’ I heard my friends say.
‘Look how far she has fallen’ they would chant.
And all the while I held the breath as if releasing all
the air would unearth the rot.

‘Open me up’ I screamed in dreams and then awoke thanking God
for the way the shame can be brushed beneath the covers,
away from the eye.

I think somewhere back there I lost my way.
The cold set in and the numbness became my body.

I think I’ve forgotten the sweetness of the 99 names,
And the way they give themselves up to the beads my
mother brushes her fingers over when she wakes early in the morning.
I hear her as her voice breaks over a verse.

Somehow I became the disappointment that wakes at 3 in
the morning to write but sleeps past the call to prayer at 6.

I have become a ghost to the ones in the house who gather
together when they are called to drop to their knees.

When my father called the sheikhs we were taken from our
rooms and placed at their centre.

Soon I am thinking about opening the chest and letting it out.
Nobody is supposed to fall this far off, I say.

Sometimes I scratch at the knees, blaming the devil.
Sometimes the sins are warm and come in their best body.
They are light in the hands.

Most times they come in admiration at how brave you are
beneath a God that is all eyes in every direction.

The sins kiss your face gently before they set you alight.

Amaal Said
Copyright © 2014

Hooyo

In moments of profound nostalgia
And longing for my mother’s company
I recall the warm summer days of Mumbai
Where I woke up to the sounds of Adhan
And in close proximity to my mother’s fragrance

In America’s bitter cold winter
I wrap her shawl around my shoulders
And my heart explodes with warmth and joy
As I smell her scent in the air.

Halima Ahmed
Copyright © 2014

I DO NOT DREAM OF JANNAH

I do not dream of Jannah or of castles made of gold, or of gardens, fountains and all that we’re told.

I do not dream of crystal glass and wine, I prefer tea. You see, all this is simply not my cup of tea.

I do not dream of pearls and gems, I’m not sold, or of musk, silk gowns and to be dolled.

I do not dream of rivers of wine, milk and honey. You see, I would rather swim in the sea.

I do not dream of the Hereafter or of tales of old, Blasphemy! You might find this rather bold.

I do not dream of hoor al-ayn, they don’t tempt me. You see, to be loved by one is enough for me.

I do dream of Him and of His sight to behold!

And of Heaven and Earth, and for all to unfold.

I do dream of life, death and its mystery,

But you see, in that faith lies true beauty.

To be free, to be happy.

Hamdi Khalif

Copyright © 2014

Farah Gabdon

if they sit and converse
about you in judgement and error;
let them.
and if they sit and discuss you
in pleasant favour, 
also, let them.

there is enough space,
in this land of God,
enough air to house
and host the speech
of those who do not know you
well enough to form opinions.

you do not have to keep
any of it in your heart,
you do not have to take it
into your body,
nor let it sit and simmer
around your soul.

free yourself of it all,
let it blow with the winds of the West,
run with the rivers of the East.

you do not have to take
any of it in;
you do not have to take
any of it in.”

Farah Gabdon

Abused

Sweet humming from the predator bee

Circling around this cunning bee

Looking for a chance

Waiting for a glance

What a plan it had that little bee

There she stood alone in the wild forest

Striving for a tender touch of a unknown tourist

A red angel they called her swagger

Wet as spring night sweeter than sugar

There the rose was glamorous than ever

Dressed in a silky dreams for the one hers forever

Along came our night rider

Searching for the glorious kill

Someone to click on, some place to fill

And there was our day dreaming rose

So Introduction has been made time jut took a pause

He showed her the world and a word she believed

Well spoken words he said and the heart was deceived

She sow him in every corner of her past, present, and future dreams

A queen she thought not a joke in his schemes

At the night’s darkest hour a whisper has been heard

That said the unneeded details of the rose and devious lord

Morning came with a gloomy mist

Our story had a dreadful twist?

How could our angel look so dead

Or the loving words can be unsaid 

Left, hurt, broken under the painful ashes

Her dreams crumbled beneath her eye lashes

Behold here comes the knight of the night clashes

He took a glance to the remains he left behind

A soundless cry mumbling how could I be so blind

A smile she got from him saying I hope I have blown your mind

Don’t think too much he roared, time can never unwind

A hope he killed in a heart was nothing but too kind

He said you have been divinely used

While the lord of the night was being amused

"For her all she was and will ever be just “abused

Amal Shookari 

Copyright © 2014

Loving Salvation

I  could only ever love a man
Who can sit beside my mother 
And make her smile;

Not with the reluctant unease
She learnt in England,
From the men and women 
Who regarded her with quiet suspicion;

But the hearty open mouthed grin of her homeland
That always said:
“welcome, welcome,
I recognize in you something of myself,
Your language falls at home in my ears
And your face could have belonged to a child I never had,
Welcome, welcome,
This space was always reserved for you.”

I will love him like it a religious duty,
A cultural duty,
An ethnic duty.

I will love him like it is salvation,
Like it means keeping my people alive.

Farah Gabdon

Shar iyo Kheyr

Adduunyadu waa shuraako

Taariikhduna shey ma dhaafo

Shar iyo kheyr kuu ahaado

Abwaankuna sheykar weeyo

Xumaanta la shaacinaayo

U sheegaha shacabka weeyo.

Fuleynimo shuush xun weeyo

Garaadkoon sheenna weeyo

Khiyaanada shacabka weeyo

Shaqsiyad doqon liita weeyo

Shirqoolka dalkeenna weeyo

Sheydaanka u hiili weeyo.

Sheybaarradi caafimaadka

Kuwii Shaamoow ku laayey

Aqoonyahankiyo shuyuukhda

Waxgaradkiyo shaawilkeenna

Kuwaa hilibkooda shiila

Inaan sheegaa gar weeyo.

Shuucinnimo jaahil weeyo

Shareecada dhaawac weeyo

Shikraha nabaddiidka weeyo

Shisheeye miciinsa weeyo

Dulliga sharafteenna weeyo

Shuraakada cadowga weeyo.

Maantiyo aayaha shabaabka

Hooyada shaaha iibineysa

Si ay ubadka u shafeecda

Shaqaalaha dawladdeenna

Rasaasta kuwaa ku shiisha

Inaan sheegaa gar weeyo.

Tagfiirkani soo shareertay

Shareecada iyo xaddiista

Axkaamtiyo shaagaggeeda

Shihiidnimo been ka sheega

Dhallaan iyo sheybe dooxda

Inaan sheegaa gar weeyo.

Sharciga iyo kala-dambeynta

Is-maqalkiyo wadashaqeynta

Dablaha shacabka u adeega

Maddaalaha sheedda taagan

Inuu qaranka u shihiido

Inaan sheegaa gar weeyo.

Soomaalaay sharafdhaceenna

Shabaab taageeriddooda

Shisheeye addoonsigiisa

Shibtiyo wada aamuskeenna

Abwaaniinteennan shiiqay

Inaan shammiyaa gar weeyo.

Dhib baa shalaliyey dadkeenna

Shiddaa dagalkeenna taalla

Midnimadeennaa shakaalan

Siyaasaa shoobbareysan

Shabaab baa dila haldoorka

Inaan sheegaa gar weeyo.

Waxaa dagan shaariskeenna

Shiish baa kaga furan dhafoorka

Shabaab baa baacsanaaya

Naftiisaa shoolad saaran

Shafkaa laga toogan leylki

Hadduu faaqida sharkooda.

Haddey gabi shucaradeenna

Sharooteeyeen dibnaha

Fuleyguna uu shib yidhi

Shabaabku u gooddiyeen

Anigu waan sheegayaa

Sharkey nala maagan yihiin.

Xil baan shaadeersanahay

Shil-qaran baan diiddanahay

Shishaan ka arkaa dhib culus

Halaag shacabka uu mudneyn

Shaacuunkaa nagu dhax-jira

Inaan sheegaa gar weeyo.

Shalay nimankii na gubay

Hablihi laga sheexi jiray

Suldaan sharaf lagu ogaa

Kuwaa dhuxulaha ku shida

Ninkaan fikirkooda shumin

U qaba sheydaan murtada'a.

Shahaadada ubaxi siday

Cilmiga sey uga shabcaan

Shidaalka kuwii ku dubay

Shukriyo waa mahad Ilaah

Ka sheegay idaacadaha

Miyaan sheekh oran karraa?

Gafkani lala soo shirtagay

Dalkani xaabada ku shidan

Siduu yahay shaawirmaa

Shammuurey sideed u solan

Shukada niman baa u xiran

Iney shaag dawlad rogin.

Waheey shacabkeygiyoow!

Waheey sharaf dawladeey!

Waheey sheekhdeydiyoow!

Waheey shucaradi dalkoow!

Waheey nabad shaabuqdaay!

Shallaayto maxaa na baday?

Sha'nigan gobonnimo ma aha

Shifiyo nabad baa carfoon

Shir-gacaltooyaa gudboon

Ka-shawrka dantaa habboon

Shabaaboow qoriga dhiga

Badbaadiya shibilka dilan.

Si uu calankeenna sharaf

U yeeshoo ugu shalcada

Shurdada iyo ciidankeenna

Sharciga ay ugu dhaqmaan

Shiqaaqada looga baxa

Amniga guud kala shaqeeya.

Shucbadu dhagar bey wadaan

Shirqool-qaran bey dummaan

Shanshadey geesiga jabshaan

Baley la shabbaaxtamaan

Nin aan shacabkaba u nixin

Asagaa shuuciga ka daran!

Shareecada caawiyoow

Bukaannada shaafiyoow

Shukriga lagu caabudoow

Awoodaha sheywalboow

Alloow ciiddeydan shidan

Soomaalida sharaf u yeel

Alloow shacabkoo is-jecel.

Abwaan Maxamed Cabdiqaadir (Stanza)

Stand before you

I stand before you
As did my sister before me
I am not yesterday
I am not any day
I am a new beginning 
My pages are blank
And you are the master of this pen that I yield

Your action are my commands I write in stone
I offer you a chance
I offer you a beginning
I offer you hope
do not let me waste away
For Once I'm gone I am gone for good
And my sister is born
she will not be me
She will not be like any day
But Her pages will be blank
Like me
She will offer you a chance
A beginning
She will offer you hope.

Naima Khalif
Copyright © 2014