Sunday, May 30, 2010

The power of education

Before I went to college
I was an uneducated man
I was an unwanted man
I was an unemployed man
I was an unwelcomed man
I was an immigrant man
I was an accented man.

Before I went to college
I was a poor man
I was a classified man
I was a black man
I was a Muslim man
I was a short man
I was a blind man.

Before I went to college
I was scared of my own future
I was in the dark house of illiteracy
I was dissatisfied with minimum wage
I was keyless to open my closed doors
I was peeved with my minimized options
I was desperate for higher education.


Before I went to college
I had doubts about my abilities
My dreams sounded impractical
And an unrealistic world of aims
But I at least dared to dream
To go to college and graduated
And now feel deep empowerment.

After I finished a college, I have realized,
Education opened the closed doors
Education eliminated my illiteracy
Education enhance my intellectuality
Education enabled me to feel that,
I am still black man and very proud
Education dearly enabled me to feel
I am still a black man and very pleased.

After I finished a college, I have realized
Education allowed me to understand that,
I am still an immigrant and very accomplished
Education allowed me comprehend that,
I am no longer an ill-informed illiterate man
Illiteracy was the perpetrator of fear and false flags
For, I do not live in fear of being inferior
And I deeply appreciate my potential abilities.

After college, I have realized
It was the best decision I have ever made
It was the right moment Allah blessed me
But it was never too late, feel VESTED
And it is never too late for anyone
To be brave and dare to dream
O you, the youth of Soomaal!
Shall you write your own destiny?
With the power of higher education

O' you, the youth of Soomaal!
Since the power of education changes lives
May you accomplish your calling dreams?
May you determine your own righteous paths?
With gracious perspicacity of higher knowledge
You will relish the empowerment of education
You will not be living in fear of being discriminated
And rather have tools to compete and dominate
With the rest of the world to rebuild your nation.


Faisal Abdi
Copyright © 2010

On my way to that LAND....

A short poem dedicated to the forgetten ones that lost their life/themself,running away from war, hoping to get to ’the paradise on earth.


Dear you out there,

I’m walking, walking and walking against the wind.
I’m walking into an unknown future with ”the paradise on earth” on my mind.
I’m walking to run away from my disturbing past in a catastrophic country – I’m leaving it behind.
I’m in middle of no where with people whom I share hope and pain.

All I can see is the color of the sand.
All I fear for the moment is to come out of this totally blind.
I got to continue the struggle to find a peaceful land.
It may be thousands miles away but with my strength I will make it to there.

I hope that the ones I left are still alive and fine.
I promise to reach out for them my hand,
As soon as I get into that land.
Oh Lord, Please make that happen.

They say that the ’destiny is written’.
I guess that my footsteps on this Sahara was written.
And I hope that my footsteeps will be written on the next land.

Abdikafi N Mohamed
Copyright ©2010

-My mother land-

I was born into a nation that was once a country of prosperity
Power, legacy, and superiority
A blissful land that was adored and envied by many nations because of its breathtaking beauty
A land where children ran free and where nature blossomed exotically
A land where people cared for one another not tribal deception or other
A blessed land that stood for one religion, culture and identity
But as time took its course divided we became segregated, separated, alienated to one another
Confliction was raised in high bars surrounding our land
Blood shed killings, suffering civilians scattered all over each and every area code
No sense of safety, security, comfort and protection
Mayhem, corruption, chaos, confusion no sense of order could be directed
The diminishing of our government commenced nothing could be done to regain stability, like a shattered glass we broke into a million of pieces.
No option was left but to run, run away from the struggle, brutality and hostility. Dived we became seeking somewhere to be free and safe from the war zone we where trapped in like a prisoner in your own country.
And strangers we became to the white man's country.
Peace we received and where welcomed gracefully, but guest we still remain even though we adapted to their society
Years and years still go buy and still I do not see a change or even a slight difference
Still conflicting, still in war
Same topics in mind Tribalism, power, superiority
And as we witness it dose not become anything more than a norm
Values have dissolved in to mist air what once was is now history
Hope remains in our hearts but truth to be told nothing will ever change
Generations after generations more brain washed become
So westernized that being Somali is nothing but a logo that has been worn out
We leave our identity so that we can blend in with others from other minorities
But how hard we try to camouflage in to that category we will never ever be one of them
Somalis we remain till the day we die and as one we are supposed to rise up high
Brotherhood, love, and unity we need to promote
Because without us our country will remain doomed
Don't you see that the kufars and what not are trying to demolish our mother land
Once and forever and bit by bit they are succeeding with their devilish plan
Jealous and envious they truly be
Because hold so much wealth and blessings a bounty from Allah
Can't we just stop and think for a minute and see what this conflict has caused
Don't you see the outcome of it all?
Don't you think it's time to surrender and just give up?
Can't we just unity and live amongst each other peacefully?
There is nothing left to do but pray
Pray hard that Somalia becomes united as one
Pray that we are judged by our tribe but for who we be
Pray that this conflict stops and we unify till justice is served
So may Allah protect us and guide us from the trials and tribulations our country faces day to day
Pray for our people may Allah make it easy or them through the struggles
May Allah shower iman into our hearts and shower us with love and brotherhood
Because only Allah knows best and only Allah can guide and misguide

Amal AKA Proud Muslimah
Copyright © 2010

Nightmares in the ogaden

In the night I toss and turn nightmares burn.... my heart yearns for my people... like a Rwanda sequel ...a horror movie i close my eyes and all i see is evil...i wake up my prayers sooth me. i pray for my land yes and truly...weary of the devils attempt to fool me for he fears that my prayers will be accepted... and the Ogaden will stop being neglected my people not scattered like beads on a table but collected...united... one heart one mind enlightened no more war and chaos no more children frightens the world suddenly aware like a dark room brightens.

i end my prayer and take a few steps outside as the first ray of sun hits me i feel alive but dead inside for like the hopeful mother to her unborn child i may not see my land but my hopes and worries bid me to cry for a while...if only my tears would turn into rain i would cry out the River Nile... and send it back home where food is scarce and crops hardly grow..... a war zone to the fullest... the children in the west have toys our kids play make believe with A.K47 bullets...

the contrast amazing...temperature like a fire blazing....a great divide....you either fail and die or your thirst to be the first is only quenched if you succeed to survive...sometimes i wonder if ogadeniya has a life of her own ..if true then does she not know that she is now barren and her children have no seeds to sow...does she not realize that the rain resents her and her trees refuse to grow....would she wallow in self pity and breakdown when she receives the news that her rival residing in the mountains is now crowned...is she not jealous of the fact that the sun tends to shine on her cousin and the moon prefers to glimmer on her sister and she is left in the dark...that the rest of the world is on the same boat and she is too frail to embark....

that she stands alone... like a wolf among dogs with no where to call home..exiled in the wilderness with no hope of food and water and the only mercy shown is by the stars that shine a dim light on this loner and evan they do not shine upon a path towards shelter.... does she not see that against all odds she will continue to cope...that at the end of this dark tunnel there is a light of hope...does she not know that i love her so...that she is a diamond so rare that she is my queen so fair..that one day..one day.. i will wake up from this night mare.

Mohamed Jamal Mohamed Sirat
Copyright ©2010

Please dont hate

Please don’t hate me for what I aspire what I desire what shall so be mine.
Don’t hate me for my charisma, my mystique, my ray of sun that through any cloud would shine.
Envy is like the angry bulls blunt horn, it may strike with it but it will only hurt the beast so.
But if it’s sharpened with success then that strike shall conceive a fatal blow.
I have no material wealth and yet their eyes follow my every step
some say I am blessed, that it has been passed from generation to generation
through out ancestral revelations when an African witch doctor through rocks on the soil,
he bore witness that all my enemies will tumble and their evil plans foil and all true believers
would be forever loyal to what I say.

Please don’t hate me, for what I have achieved I have achieved
through strife and struggle I made my bed my foe, and my blanket my Stranger yet those haters won’t know that with each two steps I take at least one I fumble, so what sets me apart from the wounded soldiers of life? Do I not feel pain like the rest? yes, probably more, the truth is when they lay there helplessly on the floor I get up and fight with my wounds even when I am over whelmed by the opposition, even when I have not support nor recognition, I take my gun and with precision I aim to beat time and fate. I need not debate...please... don’t hate.

I am not arrogant if you've seen me you'd know, I take this blessing and carry it as though it were a burden looking down instead of up and rejoicing for all the test ALLAH has allowed me to pass. I pray, give and I fast I am a slave I understand...but as far as slaves go I am the pebble that is clearly seen from the sand, when the wind blows heavily I stay firm when the sea tries to do harm I shall defie, and yet instead of love you stare with the greenest of eyes I assure you I do you no harm for peace is my state. I aim to inspire, to spark the flame for the darkened so please please....you know what goes next....


Mohamed Jamal Mohamed Sirat
Copyright ©2010

Somalia's Future

I am a Man without a Country, I am the most hospitable bum. No credibility, no degree.
The dirt roads when I was younger raised me. My people... please praise me.
I am a soul that is empty, hollow like the barrel of a gun.
I am filled with so much fire inside, so much beauty truly. On the outside I am dark and coal-like.
I guess you can say I am the Diamond in the rough. I am Patrice, I am Che, I am Martin, I am Malcolm.
I am all that, but I want to be more.
Growing up I wanted to be like Mike,
But since I have grown up I want to be like Sallalaahu-Calayhi-Wasalli
m.
I have dreams to reach farther than my dwellings,
Enough to stir a revolution so the silent majority can start rebelling.
Despite all of the bullet shellings, streets filled with bodies smelling,
we have endured and survived our doomed foretelling.
Yes our story is very compelling, but all praise is due to Allah for us excelling.
-------------------------

- Hashim
3/22/10

The World Is Changed...

The World Is utterly Changed....
(Memoirs Of A Poetic Truth Seeker)


The World Is changed, It is stranger than Fiction
Cold world, The most known unknown, no Benediction
Less sincere people, Hatred, Wars, Bad news Addiction
Sometimes makes you feel like you´re computer- chip- programmed
Like your life is under a suspicious personal Jurisdiction.


The World Is changed, It´s like you´re in the land of the Dead..
Except this is not a movie hence no zombie Invasion,
But too many death´s Head....
Look around, deep and closely, Mortality rate widespread..
Twisted and sick world, Too many Anti-Muslims
Heartless jewish scumbags feeding dead palestinian children-
To their dogs like its sweet Rye Bread..!


The world Is changed, Observe
This is not about territorial Reserve
Cruel earthlings without a compassion Nerve
They are against Muslims,Clear Picture: They want to destroy Islam
Yes, this is not a poet´s Verve!!


The World Is changed, Love is just a word in the dictionary, Is It?
Humanity has lost its honour, And we are in a bottomless confusion Pit
Times have changed, Horrible scenes makes you want to Spit!-
-In anger, frustration, outcry, News of more Muslims under Occupation-
-Dying..Dead, Makes you want to throw a Fit!


The World Is changed, Where art thou Muslims, I Yell
It is a wake up call, Watch the news, Interprete, Don´t be under a Spell
We need to bid Indifference and Arrogance Farewell
United Muslim Ummah from villages to far and vast thats whatsup!
Breaking Free from sheydaan´s hypnotic Shell.


The World is changed
Coded World..Coded Illusions..
A puzzle..A maze
A labyrinth..
The most Known..Unknown
Seek the truth....



Ilhan Bashir.
Copyright 2010.

Determined, Desired, Defined

Can you hear the subliminal stream of poetic treasures flow?

The impact so settled that with a flash of an eye it captures you completely.

Semi-calmly, your personal thoughts are going over every aspect in an alarming rate.

Questions upon questions are composed as the flow becomes more intense.

Finally, every realm of your being incorporates the poetic flow as the sun shines brighter.

And my Confidence builds,

Situations, be it good or bad presents, the up and down cycle.

We all work hard to avoid these moments living in the low groove.

That produces the avenues to effect our emotions negatively.

The effort to move upward creates such a task that most will give up.

Yet, working at it takes courage along with faith to reach the higher ground.

Crest of the higher ground can be a pitfall for illusions if one is overconfidence.

Be careful for we live is a constant test that can change at a moment's notice.

On to the pursuit to the after-life,
The journey through the pathway of life proves quite the challenge.
I am able to witness all sides the good, the bad and the indifference.
Despite daily ordeals the book of life gives me an added edge to walk my path.
Yes, it is true, nothing is new under the sun, so I take the Maker's insight and glow.
May these words be an encouragement for you, hard times are becoming harder.

Muktar Mohamed
Copyright © 2010

Saturday, May 22, 2010

Sentiments Of A Nomad

I left my beautiful homeland at a tender Age
3 Years old, Hooyo narrates Qaraar(bitter) tales like common herbal Sage
Of how terrified she was, that her children would have been subjected to
the proverbial 'Battling Cage'
Had she not left.....
Had she had not fled, my brothers would have been transformed...
To child soldiers from latency-Stage.

I loathe Qabiilism, Somalia became a man eat man Society
Hunt down the other Qabiil like wild game, Bisinka!
Like a Nation Of non-Sobriety ( no pun)
Hate replaced Love and greed for power a vital Propriety
The beautiful, hospitable Country now Known for Notoriety.

Twinkle in Hooyo's eyes when the tales shifts to a memorable Phase
Where did the Love go?
When did we become soo barbaric, Setting homes Ablaze
Amidst the tales, I sing the National Anthem,And at the Flag I Gaze
My beloved Country Somalia now just a Noun Phrase.

My Homeland
Is it the land where becoming a pirate is a lucrative survival technique?
Is it the land where children of conflict become hardened child-soldiers?
Is it the Nation whereby graduates are bombed on their graduation day?
Is it the Nation that forgot their Deen and rape mothers,sisters,daughters like Subhanallah!
Or has it become a Nation of Shiib dheh Iska Fiirso...( maa filiin baa?!)

Allow me to vent, I can only pen my sentiments
Heartbreaking to what has become of our Once Recognized Motherland
What do you think is wrong with us?
Even Rwanda became peaceful after its violent period!
Ya Allah! the more I write the more I become Angrier..
Made me forget to Rhyme in this stanza Xaata!

Let us end the Qabiil Segregation
We are one people, Same culture, Deen, Language, One Creation
Let us tolerate each other like we got blood Relation
It starts with You and Me, Illustrate the love O ye young Generation
Shall we all go back and start Civilization?

InshaAllah.............

Peace and Love In Somalia INSHAALLAH <3


Ilhan Bashir.
Copyright 2010

Somalia…

Bloodshed and burned flesh are flashing everywhere,
Portrayed as if this land is a burden or a curse of some sort,
People have been deceived in the process,
Trickery is played by the puppets while civilians die.

Guns, Missiles, and weapons of mass destruction,
Don’t be surprised, media is paid to make us look bad.
They care about their dollars and dimes,
And we on the other hand are seeking justice for the wounded, massacred, and murdered children of our land.

We stumble and fall but for a better future InshAllah we are destined.
The ugly past we can bury, and the memories of our heroes will forever live on.
Somalia’s beauty and pain today I will share,
Listen closely my friends as I take you back to my land.

We reach out with an open hand,
To expose to you the land that was nearly forgotten.
Come ride with us and explore this land of ours,
For indeed its stories will quench ones thirst.

Somalia’s imagery no words can describe,
Lush green forests, and paths that lead to waterfalls,
A utopia of its own,
Even took a title that so many others desired, “nation of poets”.

Not to mention, the pure minerals, and the natural resources that caused many to invade the heart of this land,
Envy eyes looking on ‘cause all the jewels and oil sprang from the ground we had walked upon,
And how dare I forget the beauty of our women,
Thin or fat, no one judged them.

Both were seen as beautiful and embraced,
For their hearts and intellectual is all that mattered,
Beautiful tan looking skin - no it isn’t plastic surgery my friend,
Back home they called it natural beauty.
Long black hair and beautiful hands that tell a story,
MashAllah true beauty upon them is bestowed.

Wait - did I forget about our handsome young men who carry themselves with dignity,
Shirt clean, hair combed, a look in the mirror - ladies got to dig.
A shield of protection for us they are against the ignorant,
Honor and respect they desire for us.

Ooh! - and our mothers,
Yeah, I love ‘em!
Cool, Calm, and laid back,
Much advise they offer.
“Paradise lies under the feet of your mother”,
And this I absorb to remind myself of a mother’s status,
And as I look at our mothers my heart slowly whispers,
“MashAllah, they are so lovely”.

As for our fathers’, who can forget them?
Hardship they endured to feed us,
Herding goats and camels, feet stiff -
Yet persevered to keep us content.
Much wisdom they had passed onto us.

On cold nights we’d light a fire and sit together,
Mom prepared delicious foods and dad kept us awake by reciting ancient lines of poetry deeply embedded into his heart.
The poetic lines he recited never reached our ears without teaching us a lesson, and he’d whisper, “Ragow kibirka waa lagu kufaa, kaa ha la ogaado.

Tears gushing out of our eyes as we remember the past we long for,
And now we look forward to our future.
Most definitely we won’t forget who we are.
Somalia, no matter how many times it is shot will remain alive,
And so will our people.

Nimo Abdi Warfa
Copyright ©2010

Seek Knowledge.

'Be Grateful for what You have some people got it rougher than you'. They call u an”islamist”. Does that mean your extremist? That word is not a verb, rather peace. He is not a terrorist rather a law abiding citizen. But we move on, we don’t fall for criticism.

Now “Be in the world like a traveler, or like a passer on, and reckon yourself as of the dead.” According to our prophet that’s what He said. Known to be kind. See Struggles of the confused mind, Will easily lead you to illusions of Lucifer, to let free of your Nine.

Never follow instincts, But be who HE tells you to be, not ‘they’ ‘Thou they shall end in stray’. So do not wonder why the Unwilling is always led by the Unknowing. Seek knowledge. From the cradle to the grave, Knowledge leads to wisdom which shows there is no kingdom but the King's himself. And that's why 25 men were sent,to show you that what life was really meant,for and once You get misguided that you can always repent.


See what do They know about Dreams, Morally destined for high beams. Brainly impressions, Formations of mental objects With a colorful reflection of anticipation. Seek Knowledge. For it will Gain your Pursuit of happiness.And at that point no man can lead you on your mind map, In your world you are the Leader of the outer, Now in your mind Define whats a is a Doubter? And you will think obvious. Different feeling, Different thoughts, some black some marvelous.

And if you get lost in your thought that means your brain shot your heart, so when your about to refer and say something you can't remember that part. Seek knowledge. See Them, They're Sharp-less-ness Lets them carry no message in their lines, So me, I don’t fool with their kind. You maybe led by them and they are led by the big heard of ‘misunderstood’. Notice Your ignorance is everyone shame. And that's why My words feel my pain, so they leave a teardrop after every sentence.
The things that I write, are hopefully guidelines to your new thought pattern Hence, Take me as mind-attacking, As I am basically explaining what ones excellence maybe lacking.

Muktar Mohamed
Copyright © 2010

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Suffering of Somalis

May God help my people
We are lawless
We are collection of tribes
And sub tribes and clans
My people are of different sub clans
And families
Each family is enemy of the other
My people are hungry
Not good clothes
And illiterate
my people are gunmen
The eldest is a warlord
The youngest is a militia
We are heading for no were
We are stuck in a war
War of families
We’re neighbors shoot at one another
And children are not taken care of
We give them guns
Not toy or a book
We don’t have enough food
But we got ammunition
To save the children is to save a country
Can anyone hear me?
Am I alone in this world?
Where are my people?
They keep killing each other
Children don’t play with ball but bombs instead
The one cribbed by mines is a Somali child
The one that lost an arm to the war is a Somali teenager
The one losing sight in the war is a Somali elder
The woman in the hospital is a Somali
The gunmen won’t help
We need peace


Sharmaarke Abdi Galbeed
Copyright ©2010

I was told

I was told
When I was kinda old
Don't tie your heart to any one
Then the supreme being
If you do that
Then you'll taste the touch of the wicked devil
Cause your heart wasn't made for it
Your lost and your heart is what you chasing for
And peace of mind is what you begging for
Fleeing to the sustainer is like freeing your heart
A mind who find his name and attributes is a mind of well being
A heart with a sight and seeing

I was told
In young age
The face of earth is your stage
Do your best in this cage
Everyday is a new blank page
You are the writer
Your pen is your fighter
Your lord is the almighty
So pray hard and never fall a prey for the illusionist
Slay every tempting thought with the remembrance
Or it would lead you astray
Your lord would never betray

I was told
When I start to getting bold
To hold on tight
It gets warm and cold
Behold and don't get sold
To the dunya and what it contains
The dunya will never remains
The akhira will eternally maintain
So why struggle for this world
When you gain only suffer and pain

Mohammed Abikar
Copyright © 2010

Friday, May 14, 2010

WIPE OUT A NATION!!

My race and I are fed up with the world

And you can see me however you please

I’m from the only race that exist the human race

I’m from the race thats tired of hearing politicians racial remarks

I’m from the race that’s sick of media making it the topic of the century

While kids are dyeing of the war they permuted and cheerleader for

As if infants can peacefully sleep without hearing bullets pass by

They ignore all these cuz in their mind ignoring a problem makes it go away

They sleep peacefully with full stomach every night,

And they appear in the big screens telling us they the once being terrorized

Correct me if am wrong, people always been dying

But when their people die that’s when they call it an issue

Who decided that your people are more important then theirs

See the problem begins when your categorize yourselves

When one man’s blood is worth more than others, it makes it ok to wipe out nations


Hodan Ugas
Copyright ©2010

The hidden truth - (Words of wisdom)

Our goal in this ever complicated and twisted society is that we all want to attain respect, in one form or another. We do everything in our power to try and attain it, whether it be through monetary gain, most of us being delusional and thinking that that is the only way we will be respected by others. But we somehow forget the true beauty and meaning of life, that pure joy, that glimpse of happiness that occurs not by financial wealth, but by appreciating simpler things.

We sadly forget that happiness is easily obtained just by giving and being a good human being, just the way Allah intended. It is from this experience that I have discovered the value of giving a helping hand and the reward that is felt deep inside of you, that is when you realize what true happiness is. It is reaching out to others in need, and discovering the true life lesson that lies beneath. It feels as if you could touch the sky, that is the great reward that Allah bestows in your heart when you are genuinely happy and are doing good for others.

Now I find myself wanting to constantly obtain this serene bliss-like feeling in my soul, so I ask: where are the needy people? For I have not let go of that amazing feeling, and I want to feel it again, even when I am feeling low, the thought of it makes me feel good again. I truly believe that that is the path to real success, that those in the world should strive to achieve. You will even be seen in a good light by Allah, our Creator.

What more could you possibly want? Having attained true peace and endless love from Allah for what it is that you have done, there is nothing more in this world that you could strive for that would equal or better it. In the end, money comes and goes, but the approval of Allah can eventually save your soul.

Suratul Insan - They (are those who) fulfill (their) vows, and they fear a Day whose evil will be wide-spreading (7). And they give food, inspite of their love for it (or for the love of Him), to Miskin (poor), the orphan, and the captive (8), (Saying): "We feed you seeking Allah's Countenance only. We wish for no reward, nor thanks from you (9).

Inspirited by Kenya

Ahmeddey M Hassan
Copyright © 2010

Agony

In my anguish,

I sit patiently,

Awaiting word from you,

As my agony grows.

With each second,

Without you,

With every tear drop,

That escapes my eyes,

Particles of my Soul,

Slowly fade away.

Soon,

There will be nothing more to hold on to,

It will be too late,

I will disappear,

Mind, body and soul,

In my anguish.

-Bint Qalin :)
Copyright 2010.

..THINK..REFLECT.. (LIFE)

THINK..REFLECT.. (LIFE)


This is not just another beautiful Narrative
These are reflective words woven with the intention of Motivation
This is a subtle Mobilization..
From Dunya to Deen Transformation.

Think...Reflect...

Blood coagulating, Heart still pumping, Optical aberration
Double wink Alhamdullilah You're still alive...Still
Appreciation through prayers forgotten: Fajr gone
Cozy bed addictive like sleeping pill...Pill
Another day dawns, will it be wasted on fun and Thrill
Or perfecting your know-how in Deen-Ville?
Im a walking reminder as I write with my primary Quill.
Cradle to the Grave.. Think..Reflect..

Sunnah neglected, Deen later, Life Oh Hi
Do you Remember Allah the Sublime
Even a little from Dusk till Evening draws Nigh?
Hurried Prostration, Salaah rationed, Why?

Think....Reflect....

What If you die tomorrow or even today?
Do you feel hints of Terror?
I know lurking fear dwells In your conscience, no Error
Deep thoughts..Are you with me?
Are you almost sinking Dear Kalimah Bearer?

Allah Al-Ghafoor, Oft-Forgiving.. Think..Reflect...Think Again

Death knows no Age, Prepare before Desolation
Ummah Ya Muhammad (pbuh) Unite, Trust Corporation
Give charity, support all Muslims Under Occupation
Little things should not Vaporize, Increase Dua Utilization
Proud Muslims by Identification!

Ya Habibillah Ya Rasullulah (s.a.w) ..Think..Reflect

Say no to mental retardation, Coloration of our Minds
Illuminati proliferation, Infiltrating our eyes like curtains without Blinds
Seek refuge in Allah swt, The Protector, Lord of Mankind
And a Good Life in Dunya fil Akhirat you will InshaAllah Find.

Think..Reflect...Think Again..!!

Ilhan Bashir
Copyright 2010.

Not a poem. (Ethiopia and Somalia)

I dream of the realization of the unity of Africa, whereby its leaders combine in their efforts to solve the problems of this continent. I dream of our vast deserts, of our forests, of all our great wildernesses. – Nelson Mandale

Make no mistake Somalis and Ethiopians are not at war with one another. We should not be hating each other. The mistrust that exists between us should stop because end of the day we have more things in common to celebrate than fight over our little difference. These differences are there for us to embrace one another, respect one another, and make us grow into tolerant individuals who will understand their neighbors better. These differences are there to make our lives beautiful – not for us to fight and kill one another. Our corrupt leaders (from both sides) will always instigate war and hatred on our respective lands for their own interest and personal gains. When the gun fires – it’s not their children who die, it’s not their women who are raped; it’s not their family who suffers. It’s us! The average individual. It’s you and I. It’s your family and my family. Then why must we be so blind and ignorant to hate and fight each other even on foreign soils. Why must we celebrate when one of us is killed? Why must we argue over stupid things that will not benefit us? Don’t you realize that this cycle of animosity will never let us grow and succeed in life? Why must we turn our eyes away from our people suffering back home….Shouldn’t we be using that energy to help them rather than continuing this hatred… Africans must unite for the greater good of the continent only than we will be able to overcome our obstacles and get rid of these vultures that have been preying on our lands for so long!


Halima Ahmed
Copyright ©2010

Forgotten Soil

Now she standing on top the tiny grave, gently cradling a bundle of rags that held the emancipated remains, of her 7 yr. old son .Her daughter died mystically she was found face-flat lying under the sun. She buried her whole family And..Hope passed out.

And its what kills me. I’m not trying be philosophical but its ironical how few people notice why my country needs more than a miracle. No explanation, needed on a dyer nation. Dead, yet alive people. They gave in, only depend on Allah. This is not a tragic it’s past a disaster. This was a murder, committed by the world. They called it civil war, it’s never-ending. Death feels like its blending. Rest in peace Haiti, but where’s Palestine? Where’s Somalia? We were dead and you came with a cure for malaria? They left us, thoughtless. Then our hearts blacker, Fearless. They were killing, Restless. On-going massacre. This is not sad. This is life. Imagine your throat living next to a knife. But they never notice. Is it because they assume by the skin I’m in?

See Round here, there’s is no love nor hate, They’re this feeling where you can almost taste your fate. The young boy knows he'll end up fighting for no such ground. Look em in the eye and you see that frown, No it’s not asking for help. He’s wondering why they teared down his safe haven. And now his mind is enslaved, under the fact that our beloved world didn’t craven, for the little boy. So now he runs and snacth's his rifle so the other kids don’t take his only toy. He sees, his eyes are on full defense. He is steadily waiting, Because the notion is Highly intense. And due to that, it’s why we lack this So-called common sense. Dusty minds always need cleanse .And they all just watched our beautiful soil just condense..

We living the hottest summer but the world is so cold. And now this life itself is sold. And due to that our hearts must be bold. So audacious, heavily unarmed that boy stays conscious. I am stronger than ever my dreams have no Yield. And right now i feel I’m at home, I exist within the battlefield. Life is not really colorful when it only comes in one color. When death is chasing you, you’re gladly to be a runner. They say "The fearless is always feared for". You'll never hear the Lion hearts roar.

Mukhtar Mohamed
Copyright © 2010

My Cat

What difference between us?
I adore you my cat. I pity you.
You starve, you suffer,
Unnoticed even by the busy world.
Nor seem to care about your noble birth
Except the mice, you sup.
You are right in ignoring me.
Leaving the dog to worship me.

Am I your mistress in vain?
Or do I waste your talents?
If you feel so, it is natural.
And I know too, I’ve enslaved you,
For, I never share my clothes,
Reluctant to lay a table for you
Nor cuddle you in my bed.
I can’t provide you with all these
For I’m in need myself.

Don’t cry my cat. Don’t give up
We’ve underrated your dignified felinity
Many a times I’ve wished to be you
And you, me?
You’d have realized then
How difficult it is to afford me
How would you clothe me?
You are well disposed my cat.
Better off being my cat
For I am a cat; without a tail!


Gideon Chumo
Copyright ©2009

A fiery soul.

Born midday just as the sun reached its peak, from the dark brown earthly soil
In the misty heat of the Arabian Desert that could turn icy cold water to boil
12th day of January third year of the eighties, I passed into this world to fight and Toil

Life has been good to me it mixed love, peace, happiness and sorrow all so sweetly
My soul is not one to surrender without a fight, accept or submit to captivity
I feel it start to ignite, not with a flicker but with an explosion the outcome of which you will not like if the wrong chords within me you strike
As hot as the earth’s core at times it even scares me stiff, yet it can be as calm as the breeze that drifts in from the sea, to the one in need it will strive to comfort
Its strength and durability is like that of the hardest alloy or rock on the surface of the planet, it protects me like an unassailable castle or fort.

Some times we converse peacefully and it assures me that there is nothing to make me worry, take life easy and continue to believe in the goodness within me
Some times we struggle to gain control over one another, it tries to establish power through trickery and earthly desires it detonates within me

Some times when the tides get so high, you need to be strong just to get you to where then sun beams and shines even if it is an image displayed by my head
There is so much going in the world that it is hard to remain positive and of strong focus when the earth runs bloody red

So I turn to what gives me satisfaction my children, my purpose, my mission and the beauty the Almighty bestowed on the earth and never trying to deceitfully make my daily bread
Just to live in peace is my goal to worship he who created me and enjoy that which is around me this message my dear soul help me to spread

Hamza Egal
Copyright © 2009

Vivid path

As I sank into deep thought, Wondering what’s right and what’s untrue. Life is short, faith is everlasting, based on what you do. ‘You either build or destroy’ and I was lost in-between the two. Chillin on the Ave, and my brain done flew. The 5%ers rolled up on me with a whole different terminology. The revs throwing bible’s using his psychology. So I strain into my inner and scattered the True Islamic theology. I declared death to former ego. Following the righteous, defining to know, save the Civilized. Redress the criticized. Praying for the needy, and preaching for the greedy. Feeding of the mind, Thoughts are refined. And Salah is always precise. Leaded by the Greatest advice. As I Face towards Mecca, fear on my mind and faith in my heart. Knowledge coming from within as my impressions are clad in art. What they gave us is what I’m giving. I present you the proper way of living. Brilliant, beaming souls that lead the dark hollows. Blessings upon those who follow.
Mukhtar Mohamed
Copyright © 2010

If I was you, mother

If I were you, what would I do?
Your intellect and beauty, I would be blessed too

If I were you and no longer me
This is what I would do; I have a list you see,

The world would be mine to mould as I pleased
Oh if I were you, I would have all my dreams finally released

The places I would go and the sights I would see
If I were you I would actually be free

No worries, fears or sadness at all
No matter what hardships came my way I know I would not fall

For I would have your courage, your wisdom and your winning smile
I would climb Mount Everest, jump off airplanes and run mile after mile

You see, if I were you mother my wonderful rock
People would see me and the changes and would truly be in shock

For I would have transformed into this elegant being
I would notice the deep green of the forest tress, the mesmerizing blue of the ocean sea and for the first time I would know what it’s like to be you and not me

I would be kind, patient and fun
I would explore beautiful gardens, have intelligent conversations and be a shoulder to cry on

I would listen tentatively, love completely and laugh endlessly
I would never regret even the tears shed
And when I am too exhausted being you my dear mother, I would simply go to bed!

For the cruelest of fates is the one without a mother,
It’s like removing a warm blanket form a baby – what could be tougher?

My permanence, my rock, my life, my soul
My mother, my heart, my blanket, my whole

As I am left without you my mother, I dream and think, I ponder and I explore
For the days without you are long and each new day I think of you more and more


The sadness of knowing you will never be there
Always wondering what such a life would be, to run to you knowing you will always be there
To know I would come home to your open arms and your lasting love
If I were you mother I would not know that life without you could be so tough

And yet I know I have to be strong somehow
For I know you would not want me to be so gloomy or be so down
So I smile and I pray, I continue and I hope
That the love that ties us together will enable me to continue to cope.

Halima Awil
Copyright © 2010

Underground People

Skipped school on education
Got impregnated at the age of 16
Now a single mother, stuck raising a kid
End up cleaning floors for living
Just for you to walk on each morning

Mesmerized by the visiting uniform man
Signed up, to catch a dream
Got shipped into war
Ended up taking life
Became political livestock
Pawn to be moved around
Tossed back to society with no backing
Now stuck wandering in the streets

Escaped from war torn country of mine
Everything dear to me swept away
Just fainted memories they are now
With lifelong scarring wounds
Arrived into a land, everything foreign
Beginner I am now

Did stupid mistake
Got caught up and sent to jail
Paid my debt
Felony on my record
Castrated from society
Unable land a job
I am a living dead

Sadiiq Ashuhle
Copyright © 2010

Words spoken.

Words spoken as truth, but heard on the grapevine, when the tongue is wicked, how can the feet walk a straight line, the most precious to a traveler, the voyage, the passage of time, exchanging the light for the dark, democracy for the divine, a distaste for that which is sweeter then honey, for something sour then the peelings of lime, i worship not fame and money, the teachings of my prophet (pbuh) so sublime, and the Quran, a blessing from my Rahman, the only way to soften this dark heart of mine.

Human and worldly desire, burn one another like flesh roasting in fire, mankind nor earth last forever, a detriment to one another, imaan strong as iron I desire, yageen a must aspire.

I testify that there is non-worthy of worship but Allah, and Mohamed (pbuh) is his messenger, a token of mercy from my lord and creator, given to the most beautiful soul to deliver, not a strain but compassion and shelter, a belief in my lord’s power, an exchange for simple prayer, charity for the orphans and the weaker, fasting for my soul, mind and body of its fragile state remember.

I seek forgiveness, I grow faint a grow sturdy, please Allah give me guidance before I am put to the soil beneath me, strength my resolve, I wish to please you before into nothing I dissolve, give benevolence to me my family and my umah, unite and strengthen us together, my lord you are the start and you are the finish, protect us from the wicked and the fiendish.

My master, the owner of this soul, please ease the pain, please ease the death toll, please protect the Muslim world, please aid Palestine, shield our fathers our mothers, our brothers and sisters the young and the old, give them strength and the endurance to withhold, from the vicious and the morally cold

Hamza Egal
Copyright © 2010

Old Guard

Old guard, never was I conformist
Graduated from school of hard knocks
Did my duty, came from the outside
Intellectually sharpened my skills with my own hands
Unpaved path into academia I entered
A world fully consumed by the higher pedestal calls for titles
Never forgetting my roots, I pledged to continue the good fight
Factually assassinating these paper boys and bureaucrats any given day
Serving as a reminder about our forgotten roots


Sadiiq Ashuhle
Copyright © 2010

...The Light... April 30th

I got one life to live
and one life to love
So the past hatred
is what my mind is above
High as a dove
on a warm summer evening
Yet you stand as the tree
wit long limbs to reach me
Teach me, the ways I can explain
or attain thoughts
Remain lost, cuz in this day and age
change costs
Yet the same flaws are flossed
and disrupt relations
What aggravation, I dearly miss your sensual sensation
Have patience, I know I done did some wrong
And you ain't gotta make me yours
because I spit this song
But can we get along?
for years to come and go
Never will you be a ho, girl you're a part of my soul
So continue to roll
with the punches
through the thick and thin
Let us begin, in our sweet eternal blissfulness
If you just gettin this, I hope you know what I mean
To hold and squeeze, my supreme focus of dreams
Now I know these are words
that may seem bright
But you're my sun and my stars
so I just seen the light...

Faisal Jama
Copyright © 2010

WHATS DEATH?

They are killing restless, Its like now they believe one must die. The victims are prudent, but only to be tactless? But death is dear-less, and so we don’t talk about it Cause it’s hear-less. But why do they do this? They chose death over life so that means living is to dying and life is living death so death itself is life? But when one is completely fearless, then you’ll live sunny days if you pursue it, religious. Hence, then you will already reckon your face to converge the deep soil. And in life if you’ve lived under Book instructions, Death will lead you to the after-life. Thus religiously, should death be invited into life? And if so, life could not life, living it under death. Therefore we life, and then live deaf. Pursuing life can only lead you to life-less, As for pursuing religion, can direct you to the after-life, Where one is forever young, forever existing and subsequently bereavement is exiting. Moreover, live life according to as you’re told of, Death is of nescience, and so is life. Concerning that its author is always rife.

Mukhtar Mohamed

Copyright © 2010

Are you dizzy blud?

You stand in front of me and your jeans swing below your hips

Your facial features tell me that you are among my brothers yet I do not understand the words coming from your lips

I ask you where you are from and you reply with a postcode

Furthermore, you say you remain strapped ready to load

Let me tell you something the postcode you claim will not remain yours

Forget the house you live in, you do not even possess its doors

Killing your own brother over a territory that does not even belong to you

Are you dizzy blud?


Asha Ali
Copyright © 2010

Her Nurturing Ways

Instinctive were her nurturing ways
That brought about whims of comfort and warmth
But by Allah, it was only when
The angel of the womb lifted his pen,
That external limbs began to show
and my love for her began to grow
Today, the scent of her dirac alone
Has a place in my heart, a place where
Fabricated images once displayed
Ignorance of the judgement day
yet the mere utterence of her speech easily breached
Breaking down premeditated walls of metal blocks
Alleviating the uncertainty of adolescent thoughts
Instilling the realities of the grave
Ever mindful of this cage
Serving as a compass and gauge
Instinctive were her nurturing ways
Although it seems her arid plains
Contains little remorse for those in pain
Children who's stomachs forget to mind
Watch flying bullets to pass the time
Cause the reality of being struck
is the same as that of eating lunch
But by Allah, do we forget?
Calamity, distress, illness, and grief
Strikes a believer to amend and relieve
For things aren't always what they seem
So thank Allah
For her mountain and trees
Her shoreline and breeze
For one day we'll see,
Instinctive were her nurturing ways
That brought about whims of righteous change

Abdisalaan Haji
Copyright ©2010