Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Girl in the mirror

It was through reflection that I first faced defeat
A standing statue with her soul at her feet
Pitifully crumbled, wishing she came crashing
Alone in her cold zone trapped in unfamiliar bearings

Watching, waiting for me to motion some act of defiance
Just to shatter the shackles of deafening silence
Into million pitches of woeful whimpers, she pleaded through
the eyes that mimicked her

What a warrior chants the choir of still air!
Such a victor signed beyond the thousand mile stare!
His damned entity entwined with the spirit of mother earth
Now manipulates into her through earths dust, her flesh

Slaying their way past chocked tears, retained behind dam lids;
seeping beyond the skin to mourn through swollen eyes
That mimicked her

You see she’s lost this love and would take her loss gracefully
Except he wont execute her heart and let her rest peacefully
Instead he etches his scores upon her flesh deeply
Enticing every atom and particle upon, beyond this dimension to rejoice gleefully
To witness the fall of one who thought she was gifted with life long love immunity
Like the spirit of dust! Mocking dust! Dancing shamelessly
To her tepid blood drops beating the drums of the earth aimlessly
Drip… Step! Drip… Step! Drop… STOP!

It was through reflection that I first faced defeat
Her statue now burying her soul some feet deep
Relishes in the relieve of loss’s serenity
Finally gifting her with pain immunity
Ending his chapter with the closed eyes that mimicked her!

Copyright © 2011

Insh-Allah TODAY...I write

Today, I stand
and stare into the eyes
of injustice and
watch as they blink first

Today, I implement mental blocks
that alleviate images of
abstract thoughts

Today, I seize my pen
as it bleeds metaphors
that sympathize
with victims near the shores
where famine lays its siege
and dehydration infiltrates
like armed militia

Today, I'll write
constantly because of
and poverty

I'll write, in this flimsy notebook
to eradicate ambiguous assertions
with phrases and words
as words DO matter

because if the Ummah is a body
and life is a test
with Muslims in duress
how could pain not flow like the ink from my pen
how could it not bleed through my text like a threat
leaving imprints on pages I haven't even wrote on yet.

Abdisalaan Haji
Copyright ©2011


I am Somalia 
I am Mogadishu 
I am Beled Xaawo 
I am Afmadow 
I am every god-damn city scarred by drought. 
Yesterday I buried flowers that longed to blossom and one that anguished with heart breaks! 
And on this fine day where the sun hides no tear I bury a civilisation of hopeful intellects. 
I see souls that carry faith and patience, overlook crammed camps as they pray for a better tomorrow. 
The earth weeps for it can't hug no more! Begging them please hopeful remain; your call will be answered. 
Mother, hold on, shut your eyes, it wasn't meant to be like this. The order of grief lost its balance. 
I'm sorry to hear 
and Maxamed in their thousands had to die this way. 
Our last breath lacked saliva, wet throat; our judgment call was over in mere seconds 
Oh come on, we heard your promises before. 
Didn't you pledge in exchange for my prayers 
I did recite that prayer, prayed that I grow inside you, so humanity prevail. 
I urge for the blessing of the sky to reside here. 
The news of it arrival is longed for, break this silence, with sigh I utter the word rain 
Patiently we stand in hope to win, so smile and rest; a heart shouldn't fear His test. 
By Sam Said 2011 

Sam Said
Copyright © 2011

Wiping Tears of the Drought

On the floor crying tears for these children
Who look like they could have been my own
Anger blowing like a tornado as I blame myself
How I could have not said a word as I waited
Waiting for someone else
The fires and thunderstorms rage inside of me
I witness the genocide of thousands of my own
Twenty years of petty arguments that led us down to the destination of self-destruction

But then I remember that my anger will not solve a thing
My anger will only blind me in a cloud of unseeing
My anger cannot undo what it done
My anger can only cause destruction
Burning the bridges in a hot inferno
I sit down shaking in a river of my tears
Soaked and chilled all the way to the bones
Waiting for the storm of rage to pass through my heart

I stand up on my unsteady legs
I find my strength within me
I remember that I am not weak
I am not the ones who are suffering with no hope
I am only one person but I can help others

I can go to Dahabshill and send hope to the hopeless
I can tell my friends to do the same
I can talk to those who have influence
I can send letters and emails
I can ask them to help too
I can speak for the voiceless

I am not helpless
I am not weak
I am not afraid
I am not waiting

All over the world millions stand up in a river of our tears
We are not helpless
We are not weak
We are not afraid
We are not waiting

Yes, they are our brothers and sisters but we will wipe our tears and stand up
We will show the world we are not going to stay quiet in this tragedy
We will be strong for those who can’t be
We will share hope with the ones who need it
We will tell them that they are not alone because they have us
We will find a way to never let such a castrophe happen again
We will start a new chapter of the future of Somalia’s history

****We will share hope with the ones who need it- 

Sindiya Darman
Copyright © 2011

Drought 2011

Walking day and night, to seek food and water,
Medical resources, a place to sleep, something better
The people are fleeing, and trying to cope
I also believe in their quest they’re after hope
Hope that someone will be there on the other side
Waiting to aid them and alleviate their plight
It distresses me I cannot reach my horn of Africa family
To support them through what must be, sheer misery
Know that we see your cries and hear your wounds
Whichever way round, our family ties keep us bound
There’s a way rain will come, and that is by the mercy of He
The one who in His great wisdom has let this drought be
I pray that the clouds surround you and yours
Filled with mercy and the water pours
Be patient, there is help on the way
We can’t sit here and watch anymore
If we do, we have to question our core
What is the state of our hearts if we do not respond?
To the call of a nation who’s struggle continues on
I remind you, those faced with this test
That after hardship comes ease, and then your mind will rest
Let’s all work together to offer relief to our people!

Nimo Yusuf
Copyright © 2011

Group Poem 23 (Heartbreak Poems): Full Moon Falling

If we could be 
if only you wanted me
so simple minded 
hard headed 
how could I think we could fit 
breaking up inside 
with all the mind games
my mind is about to split 

breaking inside as my heart wonders off
through your false promises 
and the lies I once adored 
wasting my love for nothing 
my soul burned up to ashes 
say you love me the words 
I've been chasing 
A memory I thought would once happen 
but you've been dragging me for to long 
so I know now
I'm no longer yours now

cant believe I could even imagine 
us being together
no one knows your a heart breaker
cutting the veins of all hearts 
so sad that I thought 
you was that one prince 
the man who manged
to own my tears 

thank you for that satisfying 
sheer deception 
nothing between me and you 
was ever real 
so if I'm sinking 
like the full moon falling 
so take it as a farewell from here
My Dear 
Its Over

 Idil Mahamed 
Copyright © 2011 

Group Poem 23 (Heartbreak Poems):Moon Shine Sonata

Mist in the morning, hazy beauty is in the eye...
Figures take her shape, drowning into lies
Hands clinging to the dark abyss of hope
The chain of fear constricted the hurting throat

Love went on a journey like a traveller
Trust was the companion, always loyal to her
Emptiness fills the empty soul
Sadness ties the heart, constructed of a hole

Rays of light playing on her face
A pearl of tear is shed with grace
The thoughts blaze like fire to her mind
Peace on earth, is so hard to find

Leaned on a shoulder, at last faded away
Time stands still, tomorrow was today
Time, each second ticks with pain
The hand points at memory lane

Listening for the very last time
Her playing the piano, at the prime
Of the violin playing for you and me
The picture that I am unable to see

The hour strikes twelve sitting in the park
It’s not the hour which left me in the dark
It’s her voice, surrounded by the sound
Of the moon shine sonata, falling to the ground...



Pen ‘N’ Paper
Copyright © 2011

Feed Family

Only family and only family, that can get that close to me,
keep it tight n strong, unconditional love will i show
keep the grass greener, only if there is any in my back yard
witnessed have i the critics, wasda got(in a good way)
while we know we cant do without them, abdy's words weigh heavy in my heart
n he who heeds his words heels hungry souls, lets call this project"feed family"
for ramadan not rough my people start the harambee my brothers
and do not limit your wallet build that account before ALLAH
and work for jannah ABDY abowe allow me to mention it again

Mohamed Abdiwahab
Copyright © 2011

As Little As

As little as another dollar
makes a difference, he’s not even a scholar
doing his maths, thinking “what do I need in need”
parents raising the offspring, the future seed
generous is another spoonful for supper
Bismillah, let them be filled for another
day, fading characters teach you how to live
“if you don’t learn how to survive here, life becomes brief.”
from abroad flies in hope and the monthly support
awaited to ease her conscience and to distort
all the worries, we live and plan for the day
fetch water, trade semolina with rice
Somali bariis garnished with sukhar tastes really nice
from every cabin rises the scent of a different dish
when the sun sets they come together, their ideas of bliss
Insh’Allah, let them believe in a brighter tomorrow
they don’t show it on TV, a sincere smile shows no sorrow
following their daily routine
let me describe another scene.

As little as another dollar
makes a difference, she’s not even a scholar
following her dreams, a future for her offspring
drought might bring hardship, or have a sing
they stand up and take care of their elders
Alhamdulillah, let them be satisfied, while you render
their custom and culture into your language
their soul is singing and dancing, even if living conditions are savage
feel their rhythm and attitude towards life
and you might teach in the diaspora how to survive
“be grateful to what you have got”
you might take into account what you do and do not
“what do you need in need?”
as long you breathe and feed
the young and the old
confused about what you need to grab of a hold?
Masha’Allah, let them bless their stay
let them follow their path five times a day.

 Pen ‘N’ Paper
 Copyright © 2011