Friday, April 30, 2010


With the rise of new morning,
the bicycle man starts his daily commute.
Feeling empowered he starts his journey driving in the middle of road,
without any fear from the four legged hunters, he goes forward in his path.

As the day progresses,
his power becomes increasingly diminished.
He is forced to take his rightful place,
toward the sidewalk he goes to drive.

As his day comes to near end,
he drives back to home competing against the falling sun.
Knowing what it can bring,
he races in his pedaling.

If he is caught in night fall,
he knows he is part of endangered creatures within darkness.

As he arrives home,
he knows same fate awaits him the next morning.

Off he goes to bed later on,
dreaming about the land full of bicycle people.

Sadiiq Ashuhle
Copyright © 2010

Those Hands

She’s been over so many things,
Not one you could be under.
So next time you think you know a thing about her
Or even begin to wonder,
Know that this is the true Amazonian woman!

How can I make you believe
That these women move mountains on a daily basis?
Creating fountains of life so potent
No warlord will ever be able to take or break it!
This is the woman of the Pharaohs
Whose tapestry is so rich with so many stories untold
She whispers her secrets only to herself.
The Somali woman.

What do you know of Ogandenia?
Of all my FEMALE warriors?
Do you know of women who build homes with their hands?
Weaving the fabric of a country
With just their own two hands?
What can you know of infibulation,
When you spend your time contemplating,
Why it is that she wears that?
For that is your major most trepidation
And she?
Well She has to worry how to rear a child of no apprehension
And no hesitation
In a world full of cancellations.

You know of child birth and labor,
She knows of being sewn, torn, and sewn again
Ripped open for his pleasure
And for equal measure
She’s taken fists in the face and knees in the stomach
Yet she gets up the next day and fills his stomach.
For duty is the first rule of being this woman.

Have you heard of a woman whose tears are silent and dry
For she will never cry,
On the outside.
But on the inside,
She’s died a thousand times?
You’ve seen refugees on the TV
Swollen bellies and flies.
She’s seen sorrow as she flies
Thousands of miles
Leaving her babies behind
Just so she can go, search and….
That better life!
Alone she stands as an alien in a foreign land
Away from the home she built with her very own hands
Away from the babies she nearly died to deliver
Away from dalka hoyoo who she hopes can forgive her
Away from the wallal she would die to protect
And all the other brothers she’d give her own soul to resurrect.
But it’s been twenty years, six months and three weeks to date.

Before you weep for her pain and voicelessness
Learn first of buranbur
Where she creates the land of the poets
Where words free your spirit
Taking flight, in and out of any struggle, any fight!
Learn of that complicated rhythm that is the history of her time
The history of her daad and her dhal.
Her voice shouts and screams here.
She isn’t quiet.
Her tears flow free here
And all her deaths are spoken out loud.
For those words contain and hold her.
And keep her alive.
Through them she is able to get up
Fight the fight that she has had to fight
For all the millenniums of fighting

She walks with an AK, those are her words,
See it’s with her life that she protects her world!
So please don’t wonder about her
Don’t think you know her
And for all that is good,
Please keep not your pity for her.
She walks with her head up
Her face drawn,
her mouth tight,
those eyes dry
She may have died a thousand deaths inside
But outside she is still very much alive!
The Somali Woman.

Nimo Hussein
Copyright © 2010


Your lines are a piece of Awesome
Rhymes like flowers Blossom
No mate i aint playing Plossom

Sista girl I salute you, I recognize the Contender
Words so flashy, a proposed Render
Its a Rhyme galore dont faint, go on splendor

The lyrical terrorist is on rhyme Recess
Spitting is her game, Do not Agress
Your attempt is flaky, but still Impress

I aint hating, I'm merely word Painting
Call me shakespeare-davinci, The picture needs no Explaining
Pictures are worth a 1000 words, Indulge stop Constraining

I could write till eternity, But i lack tea Incentive
No cuppa to drive me poetically insane, You're in 'luck-preventive'
Trust me next time, You'll be Attentive

My mind's on a time-out, Little lady best you retreat
Words so sweet, Youd 'mistake it for Stew Meat
Have you had enough, And Concede Defeat?

Ilhan Bashir.
copyright 2010

..Struggles Of Little Johnny.. April 29th

Heres a story, of a little kid named john
livin in a struggle, has to be a everyday mom
has one cassette, always hearin the same song
literally livin in misery wantin the pain gone
and little john, i realized that daddy aint home
but that aint reason just to carry the chrome
but he looks up to the sky and says "its scary alone"
sittin by the phone, smellin, never havin cologne
cant afford stuff for the house, and sadly he known
so in time his little sister sally has grown,
now she livin in luxury, while hes still at home
hobby--sittin at the graveyard to read all the stones
so in meantime johnny slowly became a thug
dealin with drugs, when all he wanted was hugs
never had love, RIP to his father above
never snitched, cops took him in, all he did was shrug
now hes caught in a hustle, cuz he fought in a struggle
sayin "how would it feel, knowing nobody loves you"
then he reached up grabbed my throat with his skeletal hand
while im telling him, being scared dont make you less of a man
then he realized that i cared, so i guess he was damned
i never ran, and i was there for him, and i aint even his fam
and all these years he lived, he knew whos gon ride
but threw all this, in the end, Johnny committed suicide...

Faisal Jama
Copyright © 2010

..Lyrical Heart..April 27th

One Good Reason.
You… my desire, my heart’s content – you’re pure,
Seek the “end of eyes water” this time I feel I’m “shore”,
In wake of my tribulation, you grace the horse of seduction,
Dodged dilemma of my drama and faced the cost of dysfunction,
So diving I am, with assumptions of the deep,
To resurface born again, new function so to speak,
I swear it, if we mosey… this thing will fall in place,
It takes time to right align and perfect this raw embrace,
Girl I’m dwelling in this pensive, feeling so introspective,
You my number one objective, more than we’ve expected,
My mind has been infected; I’m not looking for the cure,
The fact you live at distance makes me want to hold you more,
See I’m focused on our lore, our legacy or tale,
Wander deep into your mind and don’t have to leave a trail,
Now this question I unveil, what measures emotion?
What scale subtracts the whales, and weighs the gallons in the ocean?
But you’ve managed a potion, and I’m snared by the savor,
So leaving, is going in labor, pain…do me a favor,
Stay, ignore the annoyance, and the feeling to flip,
You have my word baby; I will steady the ship.
Your Man.....

Faisal Jama
Copyright © 2010

A poem by Arwa

We've all been through a lot,
we all have uncles, mothers, brothers that died and what not,
We've all felt what suffering means,
we all felt that pain that pinches you're heart like some twisted disease,
We've all tried to make it better in some way,
we all dream for better days,
There's a word for all these emotions,
but can any of you really explain the feeling,
that feeling that knows no healing,
the frustration you perceive when you're away from home and you're mother is sad,
the pain you feel when there's nothing you can do to help you're mum and dad,
the disappointment in yourself when you feel you could've done better in the past,
done something to assure that this condition you're in wont last,
there's no word for what I'm feeling,
no one deserves a mother like mine,
even I am not worthy of her at times,
my mother never wants us to know about her aches and pain,
all she wants, hopes and prays is that her children will ultimately gain,
and for all she does everyday,
I cherish her and wish her jannah on the judgmentday,
the bond I share with my mother since the day I was born,
has today grown so much stronger and will surely never be torn,
words cannot express what I feel today.

Arwa Abdulkadir Mohamud
Copyright © 2010

Prisoners of the Past

My brothers slaughter each other while our mothers and children die
Death has become the definition of peace in my land
Engulfed in a cycle of chaos and misery
Our differences enslave us
The smog of death surrounds us
We are familiar with darkness like it’s our own reflection
The retirement of fear and the severance of hope have left us with nothing but time to kill.
Death taunts us in the waiting room,
I pray to the one and only
Only he can save me now
Everyone I know has gone before me
I sit here in silence among the corpses with just my tears for company
I am the living dead, I feel nothing but emptiness
No energy to bring forth the sound of my pain
So I suffer in silence and the darkness surrounds me
Just like to those before me

Copyright © 2010

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Love Story... part III April 26th

brushed off now
all showered and clean
met a new girl
but she still stayed in his dreams
he called her but her confidentiality
was his brutality
getting through could only occur
if it was up to her
so he forgot about her
and he left her to her life
til he came upon her page one day
after he changed his life
she put subtle hints
right between the phrases
he gave a response
he was different now
life was good but would be better with her around
but she came defensive
as a line backer in the super bowl
and he was just a quarter back
picked himself up
and hit her just as hard
knocked the sense back in to her
they were back to normal
but a little more formal
it seemed like a friendship was possible
but somewhere he had crossed the line
and saw the signs
that hung from vines
she was different
no longer did she need him or his counseling
which made him useless to her
the messages stop
it was more like a silent agreement that this chapter
was done
as so was the story
but as loyal friends do
he waits for his december
and he'll hold on
for as long as they both remember
all the ice caps that melted
in the warm aroma of their lust
for the lust that felt like love
had and will always seem so tender
and when summer falls he'll hold on to december....

the end...

Faisal Jama
Copyright © 2010

Love Story... part II April 25th

she came back yester year
with a distorted smile
but the eyes never lied
but she did
most of the time
but it was just her love grind
making caramel frappes
with the unamended pieces of my heart
and of course this cold hearted nerd only knew
three words
but to say em meant the end of he
the type that was great at falling
but greater at staying down
stuck on
late night phone calls
turned in to favorite memories
til the the night i slipped
on a frapp heart ice chip
bumped my head
and lost all consciousness
she was the first thing i saw
and the first words i drew
in this scenery of blue
was i love you
she said thanks she was much obliged
and the blue skies morphed into the red sea
but she didn't recognize her feelings for me
i am, was and had always been the best friend
and stepping out of roll can change the play
she had to go at that point and i let her
love is like religion
cant push it on a person
either they believe
believe later
or dont
but for some reason i believed all along
more so alone
the life of a hopeless romantic....

to be continued

Faisal Jama
Copyright © 2010

Love Story... part I April 24th

she was always right
even when she was wrong
for some reason i never mind letting her win
though im no easy battle
id argue with my shadow
if it said i was getting to thin
but she had the stare
as strong as her hair
which made it impossible to be fake
so there was no use trying
id be lying if i said
i didnt dream about her
the most vivid surreal dreams
of heavy love making
hot breaths
and long pauses
waking up next to her
was never apart of them
just like the dream shed be gone before evening
not waking me up to say goodbye...
but for some reason she always came back
or was i so jaded
that i could not see
that in the mist of her control of me
i was her puppet
i played her game
and when the ball was in my court id travel
over stepping boundaries
mixed up in my babble
ooo ah ah hi
never did i think
someone could disappear before i said goodbye
but she was a veteran....

to be continued

Faisal Jama
Copyright © 2010

..R.I.P.. April 23rd

That was my nigga, but I buried my past
So I remember vaguely days we had before you passed
And I never said nothin about this, I held it close-
I remember hurtin all day aint even tell it to my folks
12 years later and its reachin the surface, and
I'd give it all back, all the 12 yrs. purchases
Runnin round the hood my nigga had my back
And vice versa, why it have to happen like that
Showed up to 7th grade the loudspeakers forever played
In my head, and I still remember what it said
Your sis came to school cryin, I still see her face
Erased yo mental picture but still see the trace
They said you got hit by a van, on ya bike
Got damn they took my right hand man
Wish I could I go back turn ya head 5 seconds before the wreck, and
Direct you and just lead you from the jam
A part of me died you see but I'm still alive thou
Just keep the sun shinin, and I'll see you in short time...........

Faisal Jama

.. A Message To My Yesterday.. April 22nd

I broke your heart baby and I'm sorry for that
But shit happens, damn I'm sorry for facts!
For what its worth, she meant nothin it was only a fling
Talkin marriage, we knew it was more than a ring
I aint know when we was ten our love would grow to bond
And more than ten years later we still holdin on
Memories of the good days wont settle wit bongs
Soakin in the tub, but now ya rose pedals is gone
Thought I was too young, didn't know I would fall victim
Of when two hearts attach an cant split'em
I got too much pride to cry for my wifey
But if I didn't mama, I wouldn't have a dry tee
It was real, you was the only dame I trust
She was under you, how you gonna let her break us up
Shit, it took that just to wake us up
Say you moved on, guess it takes God to make us up
But really I cant tell, I can tell you still wont me
I stole a piece of your heart, I can feel the ill moments
I can feel you still on it, you taken, but still lonely
You can feel it, you know that that dude is phony
But I'm me, still me, still the same ol' nigga
Still cool, still hustlin, still the same go getta
But if you cant see the real let me fine tune your glasses sweety
Naw, I aint tryna say you need me
I'm jus tryna ease ya stress, I give a fuck what niggas say
I been ready to bang, I give a fuck how niggas play
But I see ya pain, I will never judge you baby
What goes around comes around, and this chick just played me
You mindless till the shit happen to you
Now I'm up late night, here rappin to you
They think I'm trippin, directed to you, but rappin to dudes
But they say, chances are, it done happened to a few
Ya blessin in disguise came wit dreads an J's
But how am i supposed to show you if you keep neglecting me days
Tryna bring our past back, guess its best to say
I still remember
This just a message to my yesterday!

Faisal Jama
Copyright © 2010


I want to restore from the start
To the beat of my heart
Our Land of nature, culture and spoken art
The land of poets, beauty and the brave
But now a baby born feels enslaved
Where is the blue and white flag we use to wave
Where is our freedom? I longed to feel safe
We need protection from this misery
Absence of our home leads us to feeling miserably
Our energy and force has been placed on pause
I want to move forward when we have beaten this cause
Or rewind back to relive my childhood and yours
A country, known to be perfection, Now its detailed with flaws
Failing of our Opportunities
Exposed our country to negative scrutiny
O Allah help us regain unity
I know a house is not a home
Truly this land is not my own
O Somalia we should never have parted
I want to restore where I started.

A. Ismail
Copyright © 2010


You're woken up for Fajr salaah, ahh C'mon! just 10 more minutes of Snooze
But for interviews, school and worldly duties,
Jump at the slightest sound of the alarm you Choose
Fully aware you take away the glow(Nur) off your Face
But you risk it all for Dunya's Grace.

10mins to Praise, glorify and seek Allah's pleasure seems a mighty Task
But a chitchat over an hour long lunch is a pleasurable Bask
Never mind I'll make it up later when i get Home,
The obligatory prayer neglected, you get back to your work Dome.

No guilt, No feeling, hardened dark heart is your Result
And a sincere Reminder that it is time to pray is an Insult
While others are immersed in Salaah And in servitude to Allah the Exalt-ed,
You and and your 'precious' time are on a latest music-Consult.

Shall I remind you O Ye who Believe
Before your time comes to Leave
To visit your grave with Grieve
Perform your Salaah and Allah's mercy and blessings you Receive.

Ilhan Bashir
copyright © 2010

Sunday, April 25, 2010


Born to a beautiful nation, African is my proclamation, situated in the east of the motherland, six foot brown skin soft features I stand, Islam my religion, the Quran held by my right hand.

Heard tales of my lands beauty, how peace flourished, much progress and prosperity. Heard of law and order, paved roads and amazing structure, an education system and a military power to patrol the boarder.

Heard of green pasture blessed with the almighty’s rain showers, heard of wild life big and small flocking at the rivers, prides of lions to herds of gazelle and zebra.

A Muslim people who congregate to prayer, at the call of the athan maker, a people who shared a decent and moral culture. A people of understanding, a people joint together, a people of hope and a bright future.

Born in the eighties on someone else continent, a foreigner to my place of origin, all I saw and heard was suffering, from the time my brain gained equilibrium, realising an illness of the heart lead to this conundrum.

Finding it difficult to understand, how tribalism and love for clan, destroyed the nations forward plan, blood soaked the earth staining the once glowing terrain, two decades later and everlasting pain, the wrong ways of the past has not registered in our brain.

It was the enemies plan, divide and conquer, strategic thinking in order to loot and plunder, now we amongst us the land partition, each party of its self thinks better, claiming a new nation.

Heartache as I look at those fortunate to be around me, heartache as I look at those faces reflected by the TV, on foreign soil our youth fight and argue over worthless flags, hate, vendetta labelling one another with racial tags.

The ignorance that lead to the exodus, over skies and seas seems to follow us, all the while still unable to comprehend, or maybe we do but prefer to live blind and pretend, while the world continues to enhance, we for the love of anarchy persist on living in a trance.

On my tongue my father’s language flows heavy, but I love my people even if with a bullet they welcome me, some of those who know me consider me crazy, they scorn at my ideology, they say how can you lay claim to a place you only discovered yesterday.

I loved Somalia before I even knew or meet her, heartache from the thought of my children never having to see her, they say why bother when Africa was never your home, thankful for all but such would be like claiming Rome.

Is there anybody out there, peace and hope for one nation share, education for the children, shoes on feet that are bare, hospitals for little comfort and care, ignorance from our minds we must tear, housing for the homeless charity and welfare, food and water for stomachs that are bare.

Dreams into reality, light years from the atrocity, a nation of unity, of love and purity, to many my words sound like sweet seduction, like a captivating tale that has no conclusion, we can blame the elders, we can blame the neighbours, or ask the western world for more interest rate favours, my vote is to join together and seize the reigns of our future.

My lord and master on my hands and knees a pray please give life to my lands; only by your will, can we from laying on a backs stand, even from a far, a dazzling white star, it twinkles in my eye, shining in the midst of a baby blue sky.

One nation One people.

Hamza Egal
copyright © 2010

our Men - Our Pride

I am writing this out of love for all my brothers in Islam, specifically targeting the somaali guys whom are degraded so often by some of our ladies. Just wanted to let you know, we (the sisters) appreciate your kindness, and your effort to protect us. We are happy to know that our brothers feel our pain and they're always their to stand by our side. MashAllah. hope this lifts your spirits and encourages each and everyone of you to be even better brothers. In general this is for all my Muslim brothers.

our men are our protectors.
They defend us against the objectifiers and objectors.
They were not born from the same mother as we,
Yet they would sacrifice their lives for us to be
Injustice inflicted upon us they cannot see.
My somaali/Muslim brothers got blood, sis. they defend you and me.
Often we only mention the negative and short comings of our brothers,
But today let's explore their positives and others.
They always seem very optimistic,
Nothing puts them down they are not pessimistic.
They praise us, love us and never let others gossip behind our backs.
They speak the truth and state the facts.
They are not the ugly figures of the media that lies,
Their way of speech and kindness makes one exhale long sighs,
Sighs of happiness and joy.
Don't you see the kaafirats who are angry because our men don't treat us like a toy?!
We are lucky to be blessed with brothers like these by our side,
In bliss and joy with our brothers InshAllah we'll abide.
They care for us much and take us as their wives,
They spend their dollars and dimes on us all their lives.
They lift us out of all our miseries and help us regain our dignity,
They're honest and true and in them is much integrity.
With all their might for us they fight,
And they make us look like a radiant light.
Our men are our pride,
That's a fact we cannot hide.
May Allah protect them and us all,
And may our brothers always stand firm and never fall.

Nimo Abdi Warfa
Copyright ©2010

This isnt a love story

So what have I done to deserve this?

After all this how can I still like you?

See there’s still more that I need to get off my chest

So keep alert I need your best interest

Don’t know what to say but I really do feel embarrassed that I miss you

And that I still want to kiss you, still want to be held within your arms

I get that nothing will ever come forward between us

I’m still shocked how it got to this stage, maybe it is a faze

I hate you so much because

I can’t dare myself to return the anger you gave me

When does the playing stop, when will you ever be real with me

Can I whisper in your ear, things I’ll like you to, do to me?

Love me, talk to me

Your lonely oh so lonely

I’ve been lonely to, because I can’t get myself to love anyone else

You’ve hurt me a lot of times, finding ways to come back to my life

I was doing so well without you, it’s too late to apologise

But yet I forgiven you, but all this was to please your heart because you wanted to ease your guilt

So I cry silently at night

Soon it will come when you’ll realize what you done

I hope you enjoyed your fun, but the sunset is beautiful

So I must go and let you know I’m officially done

Smart thing to do is to not talk to you, and sit tight as if I was under some spell.

I find it funny you closed of all contact with me, couldn’t even last without me

See how strong I am, I don’t need you

It’s more funny because after not wanting me in your life

I’m still the only person you only have to turn too.

Let it be over now, because I don’t want it to get to that stage where I cry every night

Satisfaction of my tears I can’t let it get to that point, I’m being used

Or it’s your mind again changing because you can’t seem to choose

So I thought I’ll do us both a favour and walk away, watch me walk away

Idil Ahmed Mahamed
Copyright © 2010

My love

You are a master piece that cannot be bought
You broke through the storm and stopped the rain with your beauty
You now have ownership of my mind, body and soul
You are my sanctuary
You have stolen my heart like a thief in the night
Not knowing you is the worst pain I can ever imagine
You make sense of my chaotic world
Every moment I share with you is like ecstasy
You have opened the chamber to my heart and set it free
If this is love, then I surrender to it with great pleasure
What I feel for you cannot be translated into any language
With you on my mind I can face anything and anyone
Unique and precious is what you are to me
Every day I try and congregate the courage to tell you how I feel
The fear of you not feeling the same about me is unbearable
So I write this poem to you not with ink but with love

Forever yours,

Copyright © 2010


Anoon dumar kale laheyn
Kalgacalkii aan halleyn
Jaceylkana hagar ka galin
Yartaay haasaawa tagin
Hiinaasa hadduu ku galay
Horyaalka raggaan ohoo
Hoggaan layguma xidhee
Haddaba iga raalli noqo.

Hablaha gabadhaan calmada
Hunfiga milicdaan ka celin
Hufnaan kula qeybsan nolol
Hiddaha dhalashaan tixgelin
Hiinaasa hadduu ku galay
Horyaalka raggaan ohoo
Hoggaan layguma xidhee
Haddaba iga raalli noqo.

Naftii kuu heellaneyd
Ammaantiyo heesihii
Afkii Hodaneey ku yidhi
Adaa hoosaasiyee
Hiinaasa hadduu ku galay
Horyaalka raggaan ohoo
Hoggaan layguma xidhee
Haddaba iga raalli noqo.

Hantiyo lacag qiimo male'
Haddiyo maantaa laheli
Hadhow bey kaa dhammaan
Wajigaa Hodaneey ka wacan
Hiinaasa hadduu ku galay
Horyaalka raggaan ohoo
Hoggaan layguma xidhee
Haddaba iga raalli noqo.

Hawraartiyo caashaqii
Habeensiyo waa abaar
Aroos Hanad kuu dhigaan
Habbooneey kuu rajeyn
Dhaqsaan kuugu hambalyeyn
Hiinaasa hadduu ku galay
Horyaalka raggaan ohoo
Hoggaan layguma xidhee
Haddaba iga raalli noqo.

Anoon Hodan kuu gafeyn
Hablaha kaabadan Habboon
Halyeey iga badan nindoor
Jaceylkaagii ka haray
Hiinaasa hadduu ku galay
Horyaalka raggaan ohoo
Hoggaan layguma xidhee
Haddaba iga raalli noqo.

Mohamed Abdikaadir Daud (Stanza)
Copyright © 2007

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Poetic Justice

Its almost summer but yet the world's cold ,If you are a pregnant 15-year old ,She was sweet, quiet as a mouse ,But when her parents found out, she was kicked out the house ,Now her boyfriend's upset, furious and mad ,Because he found out he's gonna be a dad ,Now he's walking around the world with a frown ,Then he says the baby isn't his, and then he skips town ,So she turns to the masjid seeking what to do ,But the Imam says "we don't help sinners like you" ,She has so many questions and not enough answers ,Bad news keeps coming, her grandma died because of cancer ,Feeling abandon and no one to show her love ,She turns to a life filled with drugs
Cocaine, PCP, Heroine… yeah she developed a habit ,I think it is an understatement to call her an addict ,She loved getting high, it would put her in a daze ,She started sharing needles, so now she has AIDS ,This girl would get high to laugh away her pain it would seem ,But I don't find the humor at dying at 15 ,The doctors did their best, they did all they could do ,But there was no hope, the baby died too ,Now this isn't a story about Mary Ann or Suzie Q ,This is about a Muslim girl that looks just like you ,This poem isn't made to make you mad but to make you think ,This is poetic juice for your mind to drink ,If you see this girl drowning, help her before she sinks

Mukhtar Mohamed
Copyright © 2010

clearly misunderstood

He wasn’t the kind to lie
Or even utter a word that slightly resembled falsehood
He didn’t make excuses like others
He stood for that he believed in
Often persisted against the odd to help the helpless
Always bought ray of sunshine for those without hope
He held on hands that were long abandoned
Remembered those who were long forgotten
Spoke for the oppressed ones
Loved those who loved humanity
Disliked those who hurt the innocent
He planned his life to serve the less privileged
Provide, with Allah’s help, orphan kids with happiness….
He aimed to paint happiness wherever he went – whenever he went.
Strongly he held on to his belief in times where holding on to one’s faith has become like holding on to a hot coal.
Today his belief is being questioned…
The world portraying him as a terrorist…
The media screaming all sorts of names and abusing his name….
I am reminded of the unjust arrests of Nelson Mandala
Who was constrained in a tiny cell for standing up for the rights of his people…
As I sit here I am reminded of legends like Mahatma Gandhi who was abused and tortured…For speaking out when it was taboo to do so…
I am reminded of Malcolm X and Martin Luther King…
I am reminded of him...

Copyright © 2009

I still care.

This poem is written by a sister for a brother who is currently behind the bars. She wishes to remain unnamed. May Allah Ta'aal keep our brothers and sisters who are kept behind the bars unjustly!

He is the one, who is confined in a prison cell,
Then why is it that my soul feels trapped in my body?
He is the one who is being tortured…
Then why is it that my heart has deprived me of sleep…
He is the one who has lost his freedom…
Then why is it that I feel confined when I have the ability to smell the fresh flowers?
He is the one that is behind the bars,
His mind is the one that is captured in a small cell unit
being prevented to think and grow.
Grow so he may continue his random act of kindness of helping the poor…
They have placed every little obstacle they could on his path – so that he may be forgotten.
The media has him depicted as yet another fanatic terrorist seeking to kill innocents.
How do I tell them that he is no monster, and that he is no evil being.
It’s his body that is being confined.
Then why is it that my heart feels the burden?
Why is it that my soul feels confined and trapped in a small corner fearing the worst…
As I stare at this path way – I wonder how he is doing.
Is he still holding on to his faith?
Is he still able to maintain his beautiful smile?
Does he know we care?
Does he know
that I still care?
That I still love?
And, that I stay wait...

Don't judge him - for you don't know him like I do.

Copyright © 2010

..Apples and Oranges.. April 21st

You and me…
It’s like comparing apples to oranges
When we talk you get baffled with strong wits
This is the action to ponder before the smack of the gong hits
Cuz it seems like the captions are foreign
And your acting is horrid
So im reacting with hardness
Even though im actually modest
Told you straight up…im one of the last of the honest
Not stirred by wack fashion or car kits
So I decided to jump back and depart quick
Take a slow ride and creep in the Stang’
Blastin Hendrix cuz it’s upbeat and it bangs
Damn…cuz really there’s no leech in my brain
And because I matter is my reason to change
I have no reason to be uneasy with pain
Cuz I can breathe deep in the rain
Without unreasonable strain
Years ago I started releasing the chains
Bounded from lifes teachings in vain
And started seeing the face—
Of the earth and the seasons in pain
And im bleeding the grapes
For myself…To drink in all that’s sweet
And as the sun falls from east
The squalls will beast and tear all the falling leaves
But it does not bother me because in all honestly…

You and me we’re just apples and oranges
That’s a fact and it’s honest
Pure as a brook running fast in the forest
So where you going with that mask in the garden?

"For tomorrow...for tomorrow...."
Faisal Jama
Copyright © 2010

Somali Weyn

Centuries and centuries rising and falling gracefully on land cultivated by my fathers and fed by my mothers.
Time it took for my features to form so perfectly the lines and curves of my flag; that in its colours lay my face and the faces of my brothers.
And weren't you my brother?
We stood before the blue of that world and the white of our sand and saw the reflection that was both we.
I do not know when and in what dream I ceased to be your sister.
I am not sure why my blood seemed to call your name so that you may spill it for your own peace of mind.
My suffering must have built for you that castle in heaven you wanted.
Tell me, did you receive your heroes’ welcome when you entered the gates of your fiery home?
It was not a neighbour you tortured when our earth was dug and little boys were thrown in alive.
That was your son.
Or did you not see the faces of our ancestors mirroring his?
Did you even stop for that second it would take to care that it was your sisters that you raped in mosques and burnt alive from grief?
Was it not indeed yourself the little boy suckling his mother, wrenched from her and de-limbed to cause her suffering?
For what crime was it that our mother cried those tears of stone?

'Allahuakbar' was your battle-cry but answer me what God you knew when the idea fell into your head fully formed to drive your own from this place?
But was Hargeysa not merely a room in the big house we shared?
Why was it so important that you might demolish that room and all that lay within?
Were they not belonging to you as much to me?
Was I not your sister?
Tell me, was it too small for us all to live?
And who benefited in death for we all died together in the end?
The land, so precious you drank the souls of kin for it, is no longer being cultivated and no longer being fed.
So tell me who benefited?
Now you ask that our great home be reinstated.
Our rooms made to be intact.
I’m sorry but those you knew no longer know you.
We, the family lived for longer than all others on earth did, side-by-side.
Closer than close.
For we were cut from the same dhirac,
Made from the same macawis.
And yet you let our guests divide us and claim we were adopted.
My face was your face.
Tell me, was it then I ceased to be your sister?
Were it then that I deserved your hate?

Nimo Hussein
Copyright © 2010

A web of lies

I looked into your eyes and saw immense pain

My heart broke because I knew that I had caused this hurt

How can I tell you that there will be sunshine after the rain

When I know that I cannot give you love, while you would give me the earth

I once told you that I loved you, but now am not sure I ever did

Many times, I tried to find the words to tell you that I loved you no more

But I was a coward and kept stringing you along for so long, in this fairytale I hid

Finally telling you caused me more heartache then all the lies, this much pain I was never prepared for.

Asha Ali
Copyright © 2010

The one

I lower my gaze every time she is in my presents

I am not myself when am in her company

My insensitivity and stupidity in her company haunts me when she is gone

The smell of her perfume and the rare site of her beauty have left a permanent mark in my heart

I rally myself up every day to approach her and tell her how I feel

But it’s a battle I keep losing

Cupid has truly pieced my heart and struck a cord

Only she can heal my wounds

Her beauty haunts me every night

Every day I dream about her

Its getting harder to concentrate on anything else

I am infatuated by her

I hope to be relieved of this phenomenon sooner rather than later

I don’t know how long I can stay sane without her

I am blind to her past but to know her in the present it’s like a rare flower blooming right in front of my eyes and I am the only witness, a moment of bliss

I pray to god our paths will cross again

Either way I will always have you in my heart

Like an unfinished book my life is not complete without her.

Beyond doubt she is the one for me

I only hope she feels the same way


Copyright © 2010

..A Lost Child.. April 20th

A killers mentality is what has got him infected
No parents at home,
His family left him neglected
Look.. stealin purses n wallets ain't no good
But he's just tryin to survive,
He's a product from his hood

Looks in the mirror,
Knowing the world is on his shoulders
He's already cold-hearted, the stress is makin him colder
Doesn't have the strength when confronted with the boulders
Nobody to run to,
It seems his life is over
Suicidal thoughts always pass thru his mind
Eats any scrap of food on the streets he can find
Had to get protection,
Now he's walking with a nine
A victim of the streets, shot once n his spine
Worked for dis dealer,
A few times..he was a funny cat
But then got fired,
Cuz he could never bring the money back
Wanted love n his life,
Always asked "Where's My Honey At"??
But couldn't get at girlfriend because he was a bummy cat
Stress is building up just to achieve a dollar
Now he plans to rob a nigga
Put the pistol to his collar
Pull on the trigger until the victims starts to holla
Who would've known that he just killed his father......
Now look what these streets do to a lost black child
He's just a little baby n these streets thats wild
He can't even remember the last time he smiled
Every time he thinks of death his heart beats loud.

Faisal Jama
Copyright © 2010

Toxic Air.

Rise with the sun, draw back my curtains the world at my window, observing my surrounding, my pulse is low, hard breathing, my heart beats at a slow pace, not concerned with the money race, more troubled by were I am heading, then what I am to be getting.

Showered and feed, my front door I close behind me, into the streets I tread, how different seems my city, same glass same concrete yet my vision of truth empty, everyone rushes past me, from all walks of life they come, a multitude of ethnicity, conduct my dealings for the day, but my heart is still troublesome.

I ask it a question, hopeful for a resolution, not looking to be dragged into another never ending discussion, as I feel its beating against my chest, the rhythm is one all to familiar, knowing what’s to come, I sit under the rays of the sun for rest.

My heart begins to speak, straight into the thick of it; the life you live is like inhaling toxic air, you sit in comfort when everything is wicked here, eyes wide open but so many don’t see clear, many live in fear, but do you even care, your taxes are bullets in equivalence, you kill people from far and kill from near, by your hands so many children live in despair, the same way you walk these streets many don’t dare.

Silence from my lips as every word is true, not even foolish enough to say I am but one man what can I do, so I let my heart continue, sweat upon my brow as the words begin again to flow, what of the your own community, no need to look far what of the suffering in your own vicinity, what of the poor that live next door, their bellies like thoughts of hope empty.

What of your brothers time wasting in prison, killing one another for no reason, what of your sisters who live of prostitution, what of the mothers single handed with no aid raising our children, what of our elders living with lack of compassion, while you are preoccupied with lust for this ending false eternity, in love head over heals with the blinding lights of vanity.

The pressure builds and builds and I explode, I ask why my sanity you wish to erode, you speak as if I don’t comprehend, I wish I had the means for all of mankind’s flaws mend, aspiration to be judge and jury, but I am human so I desire not to transgress on the almighty’s boundary.

For a better day I constantly hope and pray, and as sure as the sunrise in the morning, there will be a new beginning and until then I will not stray, life will only get rougher, like a trek up Everest, a whole lot tougher, only way to over come, to persevere, is to come together and shape our future.

I awake back into reality; just in time to watch the sun duck behind the horizon, another day gone and from the heart another lesson, as I walk back to my neck of the wood, I simple message I understood, my own purity is what I must query, from my toes to the tip of my longest hair, or live the remainder of my days breathing toxic air.

Hamza Egal
© copyright 2010


Maalintii jaceylkee
Saakaan jarmaadoo
Hiirtii jaqaafshoo
Jaciirsaday arooroo
Jalaqsiga dhaqaaqoo
Hadba rugi jalleecoo
Jawdheer Orag udgoon iyo
Jaf ugbaad leh iyo bookh
Anoo jiir ka dhaadhici
Ayaa joogsa lay yidhi.

Nafle jaah bilcoonoo

Dhaayaha janneeyoo
Jamaal lagu tarrixinoo
Jookar iyo cadceedoo
Dahab aan carjabinoo
Ubax Jarar ku yaalloo
Jilbis midab la ceynoo
Laga jeedsan karin baa
Igu yidhi jaceyl baa
Jaalle lay yidhaahdaa.

Waxaan idhi jaceylow

Saaxibkaan jeclaayow
Dadku ila jeclaayow
Lana wada jeclaayow
Jaceyl ila jeclaayow
Igu sii jeclaayow
Jabsin iyo qabiil iyo
Jilib qolo ciddaa tahay
Jannagale bal ii sheeg.

Jaceylkii wuxuu yidhi:

Jamashiyo walaac iyo
Juldhuq iyo yabaal iyo
Jambareer dhucleyn iyo
Jaheeyiyo wareershiyo
Jare xarig maroog iyo
Jabiyiyo kabaa iyo
Jirro caafimaad iyo
Jirjirrole nooc iyo
Kolba jaad ayaan ahay.

Waxaan idhi jaceylow

Jameecooyin hore iyo
Kuwa maanta joogiyo
Jiilka aayatiinkiyo
Jilac iyo quraanjiyo
Wax jibaad dhawaaqiyo
Waxaan juu aqoon iyo
Jamac kali-u-noolaba
Haleel jeermiskaagee
Sideed oogu jaaddaa?

Jaceylkii wuxuu yidhi:

Dhibta waxaan ku jabiyaa
Sunta jagac ku siiyaa
Juniyaa dandaanshaa
Jeegaanta saaraa
Lammaane isku jeeloo
Kalgaceyl jilaayoo
Jalka qeybsanaayoo
Jeeqaaqayaan ubad.

Waxaan idhi jaceylow

Qofkee baad janjaantaa?
Jilcisaa daldalataa?
Jadiin dhuunta marisaa?
Jalka aad ka goysaa?
Jiif joog u diiddaa?
Urugada jigraartaa?
Beerkiisa jeexdaa?
Jarar-dheer ka tuurtaa?
Nacabkana u jabisaa?

Jaceylkii wuxuu yidhi:

Waxaan ani janjaamaa
Jarjaraa diloodaa
Jadiin dhuunta mariyaa
Jalka aan ka gooyaa
Jiif joog u diidaa
Urugada jigraaraa
Beerkiisa jeexaa
Cadowgana u jabiyaa
Jante jeebku maran yahay.

Waxaan idhi jaceylow

Dad baa jiritinkaagiyo
Joogiddaada dunidiyo
Jalbidhabad asiibkiyo
Jibaax sooridkaagiyo
Jirrabkaad horseeddiyo
Bahda jinniyaddaadiyo
Jimmihiyo itaalkiyo
Inkiraaya jabaqdee
Jeeskaa maxaad oran?

Jaceylkii wuxuu yidhi:

Sow Qeys ma juguxsanin?
Leylana ma kala jarin?
Boodhari ku jawrfalin?
Hodan jahawareer iyo
Sow joomad maan badin?
Maanta iil ma jiifaan?
Haddaan jirin abwaanyahow
Deeqa maad jeclaan laheyd?
Jiinleey ma tirin laheyd?

Waxaan idhi jaceylow

Waligaa jiroo joog
Halaag iyo jab moogow
Runta jaasabixiyow
Jaalkii mudnaayow
Jaadkii Ganaanow
Jubba iyo Shabeellow
Jilib beeraheedow
Dalaggii Jamaamow
Ilaah abid hakula jiro.

Mohamed Abdikadir Daud (Stanza)

Copyright © 2008