Monday, February 28, 2011

Group poem 19 (Love Poems): Don’t use love to defeat me

Before I let go before I lose myself within you,
I must tell you,I wonder if love is a curse
Takes over our hearts and love makes decisions for our minds, our life.
It controls us emotionally and somehow brings out bravery  
I hate love because I adore the idea of love
The touch and the way someone can go through sentiment of our souls
Out of the world’s spiteful ways I hate and keep on hating love because truly I will never understand it, 
see there isn’t an idea of it or a way of explaining.
It’s said that love is pain, when love should be beautiful; 
love is used in the most inconvenient way, 
to trick a person for their selfish needs for their own entertainment their sexual treatment.
It’s addictive, time stops when you’re in it, 
then it starts to become more like a dream, brings out paranoia because it’s too hard to believe.
Love recreates our imagination I love the feeling on fantasying
Its better then knowing the reality its lovely being so naive just for that moment

You pretending you even like me, giving me the slightest bit of attention, that tenderness.
How about if I told you I knew you was lying and even though I could fall in love with you I wouldn't,
 because you aren’t being real, hopefully you’ll understand now how this conversation it’s getting to deep, 
because I know your here to take the piss out of me.
Or is it me I’m I being to paranoid, but then again if I’m thinking about it, then it could be true, 
so I could just say “fuck you”, but I can’t, I really do want you.
You know maybe I’m not ready for it, 
I think now its best I don’t understand the meaning of its desires and promises,
don’t know nothing about the curiosity instinct, I can’t go through,
let’s not continue teaching me the wonders of the word knowing it will eventually lead to hurting me.  
Because the way I imagine it, isn’t the idea I had to begin with, 
never knew time of values of love changed,

I’m I honestly wasting my time here waiting for something real.
I just want the love Prophet Muhammad s.w.s had for Aisha s.w
The way love and the beauty of marriage was back then its different now, 
makes me drift off thinking, should I settle for whatever is given to me or should I fall in love solitary
I’m sick and tired of games I just want to go straight to the end of the finishing race; 
I’m not here for play not here to be played with.
Is your kindness your way of getting at me with revenge?

Just please don’t use love against me don’t use love to defeat me.
I know nothing of it, never been loved by anyone, 
so if you’re being honest you’ll hold me, 
make me better for the sake of saving me from my tears from my dishonest thoughts of the shadan, 
help me perfect me with you I want to take our journey in the hereafter with you.
And before I let go before I lose myself within you, I must tell you.
I wonder if your love is a curse, because I’ve never loved anyone but you.

Idil Mahamed
Copyright © 2011


Amidst all the commotion
And trials of life
It is often easy 
To overlook the beauty
And happiness in your life
It is easy to embrace the defeatism attitude
And lose hope 
It is easy to be swallowed by sorrowful sea
And shed tears night after night
In times like this
Ponder upon the love of your family
Blessings of your Lord
The beauty of life
Of the little things 
That have the ability to make you smile
Try walking in the snow barefoot
It is a different kind of fun
Walk in the rain without an umbrella
Let the raindrops flirt with your skin
Stop and reflect from time to time
And, smile at random strangers
For there is nothing is more beautiful than kindness from strangers
And rejoice your life

Life is blissful. 

-Halima Ahmed

My Relationship with Allah

I felt shy in front of her,
All day everday,
She was talking deen.
She would relate the simplest topics, back to Allah,
Around her I just felt at ease;
I didn't feel so lost,
Like I had been around others;
She was a constant stream of reminders,
A never ending khutbah,
One day she asked,
Innocently, not knowing what a tremdous impact it'd have,
'Sister how is your relationship with Allah?'

The question stopped me dead in my tracks,
I stammered: 'My relationship with Allah??'
Well, I suppose it isn't the greatest.
See, I said, I have a track record,
As long as the Nile River (maybe longer),
My bad sins outweigh my good,
How can I ever become close to Allah?
How can I ever make it amongst the winners?
I lost hope in myself a long time ago,
And I'm sure Allah feels the same about me too.

She replied Sister, know Allah is the Most Forgiving,
Those who lose hope in His mercy,
Are only the Mujrimoon,
And you are surely not from them.
Sister return to Allah,
Repent from your ways,
Verily He is the only One able to guide all who are astray,
But Sister, you have to want it:
You have to strive for it,
It's not just mere words.
You have to live for,
And die upon it.
She continued on.

Wow! She seemed to have this lecture saved just for me!
I felt a sudden flash of anger,
But that subsided quickly,
And as her words sunk in,
A glimmer of hope floated within my chest...slowly.

That night I got up to pray,
In the darkness of the night,
Head lowered,
Raised my hands like my mother,
A big question mark:  What should I do next?
Confused, I sat there.
Where is guidance? Let it rain upon me any second,
I'm ready! 
As the canopy of the night,
Enclosed me in its darkness,
My heart was steered into reflection,
Suddenly years of sinful memories came to my mind,
Playing like a cinema:
How can my memory be this good? 
Every sin commited,

Without shame,
Without guilt, 
Suddenly a moutain of pressure began to lift,

 From my darkened Qalb;
And tears began to stream,
Like the niagra falls,

They refused to stop.
It hit me hard like lightning on a stormy day,
The gray clouds in my chest filled with more droplets of regret,
And more tears.

The Sister's question replaying in my head:

My Relationship with Allah?

The answer: I had buried deep within me all along..

O Allah, how distant have I been from you?
O Allah, how can I chose to obey others besides you?
I am your sinful servant,
I stand before you in need,
Of Your Bounty,
Of Your Grace
You are the Ever Powerful,
La ilaha illa 'anta, Subhanaka, 

Thalamtu nafsee, faghfirlee!
Arhamanee ya Allah,

I am so weak.
Yaa Muqallibal quloob,

Thabbit qalbee ‘alaa Deenik!
O Allah, Turner of Hearts,
O Lord who guides,
Guide me to your path,
Guide my heart to your Deen,
Keep my feet firm until I breath my last,
O Allah...

-Bint Qalin
Copyright © 2011

Dreams of a revolution

Freedom a simple equation, attained when you add peace of mind and body, subtract hostility and exploitation, a little land so I can grow my family’s bread on a clean plantation, free from commercial contamination.

Yet I see vast depravation, greed and murderous intent, on destruction trillions are spent, evil is evil, an illness, a parasite, turning man into a sapless host with no sight, it breeds and on the innocent it feeds.

Some say silence is the best treatment, but for those inherent to devastation, your passiveness is a boast of encouragement, we are to gain absolutely nothing laying on our backs, wishing and hoping when these are the facts.

Your children are valued in dollars and sterling, body parts or drug dealing, your cultures and religions have become eradicated anomalies, mass worship of the currency practiced in vanity.

I live in between the state of modern day reality and the real world, I rejoice at seeing the stars in the night sky, and not the humans that shine with manufactured glitter, it’s a shame that the fortunate are repulsed by the less prosperous.

So I dream of a revolution, no ordinary dream, it flows from my sleep to when I awake and beyond like a stream gushing and rushing to the sea, its current raging from the injustice that I constantly see.

When I look at the world, I feel like I’ve walked into a room of emptiness, life has no meaning if mankind lacks compassion, ingredients of a better tomorrow requires kindness, and the strength to right the wrongs against the helpless.

No longer can we sit on our loins, designating our thought capacity to the collection of coins, or claim ignorance is bliss when we are all named on death’s list, if one is to die then so be it with a clenched fist.

I will arise even if my bones are shattered and broken, the truth maybe submerged but never stolen, its time we stand and give life to our humanity hand in hand, and your future is only by yourself planned.

A dream surreal, peaceful and real, gained only by conviction the likes of no alloy or steal, redemption is never to await the results of nothingness, I will strive for what I believe because my dream is priceless.

Hamza Egal
Copyright © 2011

Letter to My Pride “Somalia”

Dear  Somalia

I don’t sleep well since I left you
I need you back, I can’t be without you
Because you hold my heart

You are written on my chest
I feel you with every breathe that I take
And I don’t feel safe here knowing that I belong to you

Please replay back to my call
I will crawl till we close
Write you letters even if my pen gets dry

I won’t mind since I can use my blood as a pen
To tell you that I’m fine
You are all I’m missing; you are one of a kind

And I can’t lie, I love everything about you
Your weather, houses, people and seas
The tall trees and reading Quran under a peaceful roof

When it rained and the beautiful sound of the roof
Running in the rain, hoping it pass by again like an airplane
You are 24/7 on my brain riding it like a train

I’m avoiding chains, cocaine and champagne
I’m always complaining don’t you see my pain?
My tears running down like a drain

I’m going insane, I’m about to faint
I don’t want to be in Spain, I want to dance in your rain
Since you are the only one on my brain

You running thru my veins
And my loyalty still maintains the same
Some of us in Ukraine

But you are like a stain in our hearts
You will forever remain
And what you mean to me I can’t explain

You are like the rain a blessing to me
A land to me, a home to me
A country and pride to me

Without you it is hard to cope
These kids using dope
They grown up and forgetting about how you glow

I want to see you, I really miss you
I still live with your memories
I can’t take this pain, please help me to get out of this misery

Dear Somalia please call back
Just tell me come home
I promise I will never go back

Poet of The Streetz (P.o.s)
Copyright © 2011

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Light camera and action!


If I was on the top floor of the world tallest building and I were to look today’s world through my window, what would I see?

Small people like little ants being watched and recorded everyway by big brother?

Who is big brother?

A  wannabe movie producer?



Don’t they know we are all being recorded by a higher power in this movie which will only end at end of time.

Every movie is played by actor and an actress playing...

The good
The bad
The hero
The villain
The old
The young
The narcissist
The femme fatale
The hustler
The preacher
The fool
The alien
The teacher
The gangster
The joker

The list is endless.

Which role will you choose to play????

We have a choice in life.

A good character is the key to a true success.

Do good  in life so you shall end with a happy ending.

Laila Mohamed 
Copyright © 2011

It is not a poem... It is SIMPLE memories and hopes

Do you remember?!
Coz they always say you will remember......
Your first day in school... First bike... first fight 
They say you will remember 
 The gorgeous girl next door…your first love letter...
and the tiny moments that you thought they will not matter   
you will always remember 
As if "first" magically tempting the memory to render... 

For me it was my first flight in that very first summer... as simple as it seems but I (pause) still remember...
Carrying the small kid inside of me ...wearing the countless dreams in my mother eyes 
Reciting every verse I memorized…Wishing for everything I fantasized... 
Oh taxi driver! through the shortest way 
To the airport go and let me start the adventure...

 NEXT!!!....NEXT!!!                              (The sound of the officer)    
 What happened at that counter?!!!
Everything frozen …like in the bleak winter
The joy turned to sorrow….and the voice came....please Sir Follow!
Sit and patiently wait.....don't ask or bother 
But the little kid refuses to surrender
Anxiously looking! Asking me why?!! …What is happening? Why you and I?!!!! 
I couldn't face him with the answer 
 The questions flow with every hour... 
Making it even harder and harder 
The officer came with his heavy steps…Ripping the fantasies, stepping on the dreams 
 Carelessly replying: Somali you are so don't wonder!! 
At that very moment the kid ran to the corner 
Seeking a refuge I couldn't provide ... looking for a shelter.... 
Refusing to surrender.....he gathers the shattered dreams to stand and holler
 with the deep voice of agony :
Somalia is me… 
The lovely scent of my home... The laugh and the tear 
The kindness of my elders and my mother's face filled with cheer 
It is every drop of blood in my veins asking me not to sheer 
It is where I belong.. 

 Somalia is all of us... 
The charming bride, the colorful dance, the proud father and the tearful mother... 
The dreaming youngster, the simple worker, the creative writer …
and all the human pictures you saw before.  
It is the sounds of the poems rooting us deep into the desert... 
gathering us in times of happiness!...holding us together in the time of sadness !...
It is our existence …

Somalia is I 
The moon in the starless sky …
The yellow sands, colorful mountains, endless shores, the beautiful sea 
and the countless beauty you will never see..  on your news channel !!.... 
So close your eyes... and listen to that Somali Shepherd...leaning on that deeply rooted ancient tree...singing: ""Somalia is me is my sphere ""....

I turn away from the anguish and the memories ... and open a new page...
The title??!  FUTURE is filled with felicities… 
It is the coming tomorrow you don’t see... 
The days that will thrive with respect and peace.... 
When the land will be covered with warmth and kindness 
And the sky rains forgiveness… and love like a breeze transmits from he to she to me to us by just a glance.
Tomorrow we sit around the dinner table in that sentimental place we call home
 Chatting and forgetting every day we were refugee... 
Forgetting the past with all it is pain, hate and blood..... 
Singing today we are free…nobody will again have to flee

 Since then my life didn’t change much...we couldn’t reach a settlement!...
It was one flight after another...and everywhere I went strangely I had the same neighbor…Somalia’s pain!!!!!  
the little kid grow up to be a man... and he wrote his vows
For better and worse...Somalia I will be here
As you always know me faithful and sincere...
Somalia together we will carve all the statue that will constantly remind the future that Somali is a survivor.
Statue defiantly define Somali 
as worrier 
as worrier

So let us pray for the coming peace to hasten his fold all the suffering …
and that the hardships will be the wise stories to tell ….
Once upon a time son
There was a magical land
Filled with darkness…..that you can’t even see your hand
The worrier came and lit up the candle of hope …
Oh! My son you fall sleep!!!!...
Tomorrow then we will continue so you can understand ….
How the morn born from a single candle?!…
How the poet taught a nation to stand?!

Ismail A.  Ali   
Copyright © 2011

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Still hoping thru the Dark

I still hope to go back home
Grown up as kid who never spent much with his dad
Mum and dad divorced in a conflict
So we they evicted

Leaving me and my lovely sister behind with my grandma
Life was hard I was just a kid who couldn’t pick up an object
Stressed so hard felt like a convict

Moved to Kenya a land that seemed strange
Girls in jeans and jackets
I was like damn “what a shame?

Wow nice place, the streets got names
There are stations and police
With beautiful buses

Time has passed and now I’m in S.A (South Africa)
Travelling around like a train
It is a damn shame, a youngster who got a country

But can’t go back, because the neighbourHood is in flames
Bombs keep on falling like heavy rains
Machine guns melting the roof like volcano

Where all over the world
Speaking Americano,mexicano
Italian but where is Somalia?

We got passports, flying all over the seas
But still got cousins and families left behind
we still need police to stop these kids and their guns

This is misery, leaving behind sad history
This agony is killing me, I’m feeling anxious
This tribalism is leaving us aimless

Homeless, bloodless
Bringing blindness
Madness and leaving us in blackness

I still hope to go back, waiting for the perfect time
Trying to do things right, and avoid the Satan
Waiting for the day that we rise, and shine like the Sun

So I’m hoping and coping
Battling and asking why are we banging?
Aiming and hustling for this billing

I pray and hope, that Somalia will grow
The grass will be green, hospitals with nurses
Houses with numbers, schools with uniforms

That is my sweet dream, keeping my hands off the green
Reading the good side of our history, that makes me feel like supreme
Yeah that is my dream to be in kismayo and live like a king

Keeping a smile, knowing that I’m sad
Still speak Somali, and aim high for my land

Somalia will never fade, that is my pride
Showing warm smile when I see my shiny flag
So I'm Still Hoping even when the sky gets dark

“Nothing can change our true destiny
Let’s go back home and build a great history
We need unity it’s like harmony
It will help us to get out of this misery"

Always Keep a Smile Coz It Is a Sign Of Good Hope

Poet of The Streetz (P.o.s)
Copyright © 2011

The lion's Daughter

The most beautiful animal is the most dangerous
Don’t be fooled by the soft skin and innocent eyes
Pay attention to the sneakers instead of heels just in case
The memory of all the times
When someone fell for the soft beauty and tried to take advantage
Quickly saw the claws of the sleepy lioness
Awake ready to attack
Leaving blood on the battlefield
To fight for her honor
To protect those that she loves
Fear doesn’t exist to her only the need to fight
Staring down at the fallen opponent
Lying back down to purr and comb her fur
Wondering why those would think that the lion’s daughter has no claws

Sindiya Darman
Copyright © 2011

A letter to my nation.

I write to you full of grief and in a state of disbelief, I feel vandalized and deprived of land, health and wealth, my eyes wonder over land and sea, as if I search for a thief, one who has absconded with my sovereignty, my pride and dignity.

All around me I see growth and prosperity, competition in knowledge and technology, people building upon their own lands, working towards goals with held hands, thinking of home and my tummy starts to churn, pain from the fires of hate and disunity that continue to burn.

The truth we may not fully realise, but the disease has settled, signified in the already living and the newborn’s eyes, vacant minds symptoms of decades embattled, hopeless our children from the cradle to the grave, tribalism as master so they live and die a slave.

They say good things come to those who wait, but I have come to learn that you miss the chance if you leave it to late, its time we as a nation grasped the reigns of our fate, we must start within our families, our men, our women, our children and our elders who are anguish ridden.

Strength comes from a solid foundation, we are the building blocks of our nation, its time we take pleasure in our peoples diversity, see it as our true treasure and let go of old held animosity, let us focus on education not only for our sons but for every soul beneath the African sun.

Wisdom has no set gender, if we are to succeed then we must value our women for more then just animals that aid us to breed, an intelligent mother will pass her knowledge on to her offspring, mighty rivers have been known to form from just the smallest of water spring.

As a man my responsibility to my family is god given, for their security, shelter and sustenance I am driven, not for us to abuse the esteemed position but to confide in our women and to always adhere to reason. No king or leader ever made a decision without his closest confidant and adviser.

That is her station, never a slave or a master; she is the warmest partner, mother and sister, no longer is she to be abused and bathed in dishonour, for a better day we need every single soul to be elevated and removed from the dark ways that has us enslaved.

My brothers its time we stand up for the count, time to utilize all that strength and bravery we love to flaunt, pillars of truth and role models for our people and our seeds, the motherland for our attention cries and bleeds.

The core of our illness is our lack of knowledge, how can we to tribal misguidance over everything pledge, our pride in evil has us sliding down the scales of humanity on slippery sledge, we must cast aside such worthlessness and focus only on that which rears progress.

Leadership should and only be centered on intelligence, ethics, selflessness and nothing else, true power is found in the people, our times have shown how demanding yet simple, one and all must be accommodated in the essence of our constitution.

The eradication of poverty is a task hard to tackle, yet if the people know that they can feed themselves from their daily hustle, then we will take away half of the cause of this dire struggle, nevertheless I am of the opinion that education is the ultimate way to win this decades old battle.

Empower one’s mentality and you give him the skill of innovation and the key of providence, his family and direct community will gain much needed subsistence, no process yields good fortune in an instance, that which is worthwhile requires attention and persistence. 

I don’t profess to hold the solution, but I swear I utter prayers for my land every time I find myself in prostration, tired and angered by this on going condition, no more wasting time, the moment beckons our people to rise and shine, this is the goal I move towards, the prize I consider yours and mine, past the ruins and the hard times, my brother and my sister, hand in hand we ought cross that starting line.

Hamza Egal
Copyright © 2011

Take me back in time

Take me back in time where life seemed free
Take me back in time where childhood chased life around a tree
You might think and wonder - where this journey takes you to
I might take you back in time - where the sky had a different blue

Do you remember your first day in school
Do you remember rebelling, making everyone feel like a fool
Do you remember your first playground fight
Do you remember defending your mother’s pride
Do you remember being a star on the basketball court
Do you remember teasing the girls from that day forth
Do you remember your father saying ‘treat women with respect’
Do you remember seeing strangers in a state of neglect
Do you remember wondering ‘where is the rest in their eyes’
Do you remember your mother saying ‘whatever comes in life – avoid lies’
Do you remember watching Michael Jordan in TV
Do you remember saying ‘that is the future me’
Do you remember the swagger of your older brother
Do you remember him being your idol like no other
Do you remember embracing the true meaning of *Thug Life
Do you remember being deprived of rights, somebody took us on a ride

Take me back in time where life seemed free
Take me back in time where childhood chased life around a tree

You might think and wonder - where this journey takes you to
I might take you back in time - where the sky had a different blue

Do you remember how the taste of childhood finally changed
Do you remember its variety of happiness – the colours it ranged
Do you remember the lessons impetuosity did teach
Do you remember the double standards society did preach
Do you remember being pushed to the side for your dress code
Do you remember feeling lonely on that crowded road
Do you remember who always put a smile on your face
Do you remember who embraced you for who you were in those days
Do you remember the nightmares in broad daylight
Do you remember the police having you lined up in their sight
Do you remember or is your skin tone still reason enough

Do you remember or are you still in jail – life has been rough

Do you remember trying not to confuse right with wrong
Do you remember saying ‘what doesn’t kill you only makes you strong’
Do you remember?
It still makes me wonder.

Take me back in time where life seemed free
Take me back in time where childhood chased life around a tree

You might think and wonder - where this journey takes you to
I might take you back in time - where the sky had a different blue

Do you remember your childhood back home - you call it Mogadishu
Do you remember? Sit down, tell me the stories too good to be true
Do you remember the afro of the punt and their smile
Do you remember their tales echo downstream the river Nile
Do you remember your first steps towards life from the cradle
Do you remember his last steps to the grave – life has been a battle
Do you remember what it takes to become a man
Do you remember ‘pride goes before the fall’ living to the best we can
Do you remember the day you moved to my neighbourhood

Do you remember those lips whispering 'they are up to no good'

Do you remember those eyes saying ‘they came from the gutter’
Do you remember anger at society made you speak with a stutter
Do you remember those great poets, all aiming to ‘spark the change’
Do you remember the day we said ‘a sincere spark might burn the future page’
Do you remember?
‘Take me back in time, still won’t see me surrender’

Sometimes, there is nothing in sight
Feeling like an extinguished candle in the dark
For your illuminating light
You need love as a spark

“(T)he (H)ate Yo(U) (G)ive
(L)ittle (I)nfants (F)!s (E)verybody “  * Thug Life – Tupac Shakur

Pen 'N' Paper
Copyright © 2011

Group poem 18 (Free Verse):Pleasures of Dunya

A single snow flake on a warm palm
How long will it take for it to dry??
How long does it take to blink an eye??

Most people like chocolate.
Does it take more than few seconds?
To rip up the wrap of kit kat??
Tell me how long it takes for someone to consume it.
The sweet taste of it, it takes about half of a minute to lose it.

Who in this world would get fully satisfied?
After eating a grain of rice??
If your beloved wify baked a pie
And gave you just one slice
Akhii, your xabiibtii wouldnt be suprised
if you went back to the kitchen and ate five.

I eat too much & I become obese
Lots of sweets & here comes insulin and diabetes.
Lots of money which ain't halaal and here comes depression
Not to forget paranoia, talking about people running after your riches so u need protection.

The never ending whispers of Ibliis
Saying you’re young, you should be wild so feel free.
Hit the club & the parties by all means get drunk and poison up your body.

May the curse of Allah be upon him!
He tells my sisters of Islaam
Throw your hijaab and the boredom that comes with halaal.
Hook up with a guy who’s a stranger because you're not really alive if you are not living in a danger.
We all know the famous quote of the human kinds enemy "the fruit of haraam is the most tasteful"

Setting up delusions & confusions
Think of Allah & he begins his intrusions.
His goal is to drown ur heart with filth & pollution.

A drop of water in the kalahari desert will take a fraction of a second for it to dry and thats time and that’s how long this dunya will last.

So the little time we have if we dedicate our lives
To satisfy the needs of the soul with pleasures that don’t last long.
The pleasures that are never satisfactory – they are just temporary.
They're useless temptations & make us loose our concentration
On the real purpose of life hence we get far and far away from Allahs salvation.

Allow me to ask, do u know the most effective weapon shaytaan has??
It’s the little pleasure of dunya.

He manipulates & seduces your soul with them.
So whenever he tries to strike with his filthy lies.
Say "I seek refuge in the allmighty"
That’s when he'll flee & start hiding
Go ahead and do ur wuthuu
Get down in a humble way and do your sujuud
& say Yaa Allah Protect the women and the men
Protect the young & the old
Protect the whole muslim ummah from falling 7 loving the pleasures of dunya.

Wardhi Axmad
Copyright © 2011

My beloved.

My beloved girl, you are a gift from Allah.
You are sweet, bestowed on me by the Victorious One.
When you were a baby and were held on a lap,
When you became an adolescent and took your place among your peers,
And went to school and claimed success,
...Your intellect and knowledge rounded in every way,
You helped me when I lagged behind,
So I pray Allah the Omnipotent on your behalf.
May your life be lived at the highest level
When you begin to date and are ready for marriage.
Do not nag him, and let not your grumbling be heard;
Open your house and spread mats for his people.
Apply incense at home, and dress and indulge him with pleasure,
But if he rewards you with mischief, move out from his home.
Accept this conclusion of my bestowing prayers to you:
I wish you paradise in the life hereafter.

Mohamed Darwish
Copyright © 2011

Tuesday, February 8, 2011


Empires built on the philosophy of poverty, prescribing the people to the lack of education so they remain mentally and physically hungry, while they pillage everything from here to the humble village.

Democracy is nothing more then a ploy, we are no more then a plaything, a child’s toy, imagine working through the entire day, losing your health for the pennies they pay, and when you set yourself to lay, excruciating pain settles in your abdomen, a better life for you and your family through the night imagining.

A new year welcomed in birth, optimism filled in belief and dreaming for all its worth, pushing back the thoughts of the yester years and its hardships, I heard her name for the first time, whispered in close circles yet she stayed on my mind.

I carried on with life then I heard my mother Africa mention her, I listened as she spoke of her beauty, her attributes sent shivers through me, my thoughts drawn to her destination, I watched as she turned Tunisia’s sorrow into jubilation.

So I sat rooted in admiration, watching the imperialists play ventriloquists, but the revolutionist has freedom in his eyes and not attaining the lavish, demanding no more then a leader who is selfless, one to ensure the basic rights of the human and national progress.

Euphoria as I heard the people chant her name, the scent of her drove me beyond the threshold of the sane, I fell in love, her image ever imprinted in my brain, they say love is blind but I saw it with these very eyes of mine, as she showed the people how to draw freedom’s unbreakable line.

Striking right through tyranny signalling the end of its time, she gave bravery to the weary, light shined in the eyes that appeared ghostly, as hypocrisy bemoaned about policy, the people raised their fists and spoke clearly.

She only had a brief respite before she travelled further, once again she conversed with my mother, I sat there consumed by fever, not the type induced by illness but from the thoughts of desire, I asked her to show me once more, the ease in which she destroyed the bearers of false law.

This time I will capture the moment, never have the enemies of the people known such an opponent, her name flowed from the lips of the Egyptian, jealousy ripped through me, as I she embraced the inhabitants of every city.

Jasmine to the tyrant her scent is one that brings fear, chocking the cronies with the smoke of burning rubber, bewildered and helpless as they are stripped of power, to me her scent was is enough to bring wonder, a garden of freedom with the most beautiful flower, growing in its centre.  

To the inhabitants of this hear planet, true freedom has no replication, decipher the truth in jasmines implication, picture reality in these words, forget the propaganda and all the rubbish that you heard, a revolution is the only solution.

Hamza Egal
Copyright © 2011