Sunday, November 27, 2011

Preach Sister Preach...

Do not let them that sit and pass judgement
Silence you.

Let not them that tease our tongue’s and mock our accents
Dictate our speech.

Never…never remain silent 
To the injustices of the world.

Speak for those that have no voice
Translate for those that scream in foreign languages
And those who’s R’s roll too thick of their tongues-
Speak for hooyo
For us
For me.

Preach Sister Preach.

Do not let them forget the victims of tribal warfare
Or the millions wiped out in genocides 
Holocausts and wars.

Make them cry for the 10 yr old found dead by his mother
Toy car in hand
With 15 bullet wounds to his chest.

Tell them ..
About the brother held on terrorism charges
Stripped of his clothes, battered, raped and gagged…
And his family who’s cries echo across these grey skies.

Pray ..
In Arabic
For the mother who bled to death during childbirth
And the orphan she left behind.

Remember ..
The 13 yr old that was gang raped-
By foreign forces in native lands
Who claimed to uphold peace.

Make their spirits bleed
At the mention of 9 year old prostitutes 
And 5 year olds playing tag in mine splattered fields.
Make them feel the pain my mother does
When the bullet in her spine digs deeper
Each time they make her go to work

Tell them
Tell them 
That we are not terrorists
Who weave webs of destruction
But dreamers
Who live in the sanctity of an afterlife.

That we are believers
Who pray in Arabic
Who love in Somali
And lovers 
Who touch in English. 

Carry these stories on your skin
These pains in your pours
Speak these voices with your tongue
Let it seep into the ears and hearts of the unknowing
Let your voice be that which brings hope to the forgotten
And knowledge to the ignorant.

Do not let them forget.
Please...Do not let them forget!!

Preach Sister Preach.

Farah Gabdon
Copyright © 2008

Child Soldier

Ahmed Knowmadic @ I'm Just Sayin'


never felt so spiritless, 
stuck in a bubble of my own conscious, 
knowing my mind is here to deceive,
need to cut it to be free  
drowning, need to breath, 
drowning in to deep 
dripping from my finger tips, 
I should of have let you save me, 
I know I wouldn't have been like this,
dripping onto the carpet,
looking at my reflection in the mirror
 I know I've let myself go to far,
screaming to my self
what I'm doing can put me straight to hell.
I hear ringing in my ears
nothing is clear
but I know what I fear
trapped within this torment,
my heart skips knowing I'm haunted  
I can't even save myself,
weak beneath my breathe,
should I dial nine,nine,nine
or let my self die?
Cold sweat and the nerves start to hit, 
I should have let you save me, 
just save me, like you promised before,
and heal my wounds,
as I know you would,
red all over my wrist,
I feel so misplaced and so used. 
I honestly don't know what to do,
wish I could be with you,
be with anyone really,
to feel wanted to feel like I'm worth something,
see I cant cry 
but my whole life has been a lie,
never felt so spiritless, 
stuck in a bubble of my own conscious. 

 Idil Mahamed 
Copyright © 2011 

Memories of War

The violence and chaos in Somalia sits heavy in my heart
Night after night I struggle to sleep, comfortably
While the echoes and unpleasant sound of the guns make it hard
For those in Somalia to sleep.
Intentionally, I force myself to disconnect 
From brutal images of war
And, piling bodies of my people
So, I can go about my day
Without burdening my heart
Yet those in Somalia
Are forced to live with the brutality of war
Hatred lingers in the hearts of families
Who have lost loved ones
So, Children are taught to be violent
In order to fight violence.....
So, how can they ever have the luxury of forgetting the war
When war is just the reality of their lives?
And, how can I ever fathom the impact of war on them
When I am here - in a peaceful environment, trying to forget the images of war in my head? 
How can I ever possibly understand?

Halima Ahmed
Copyright © 2011

Were the winds blow

Please I ask of thee, be gone if you are false pretender.  Many a times I seek answers to the cascading agenda, I swear I have this taste in mouth, as if I am literally eating propaganda.  But I am a hungry Somalian preoccupied with scavenging for my freedom, so if you’re going to offer me anything please don’t hold back the banana. 

In equal shares like water and oxygen essentials for the living, nowadays its not like I am forced to listen. The message gleams and glistens, in the tactics is the difference. If only the mind offered a little resistance; I find my self seething as the information is over bearing.

I run wishing to reside were the winds blow, so I can be calm and collected in my vision. Peace and wisdom my unyielding obsession, I walk watching my steps and dusting off my tracks in case of unwanted intrusion.

How can I turn a blind eye to my own mistakes and focus on the others committed around me? I picture life on the canvas of my own ideology. Rendering my shoulders weak beneath its weight, as my thoughts flow heavy, Some times its eye catching sometimes it’s nothing pretty.

Respite I find in the ink of my pen, trying to retrace maybe my lost sanity. At times I think I have found it. Residing in the corner of my brain that resembles a lion’s den. Only to blink and misplace it all over again, if I cant reflect on my own thoughts past and newly brought then what then. If I have wronged you in anyway, your forgiveness I crave before I am committed to my anticipating grave.

Light footed on the soil, as I want my impressions to be made on your mentality. If you shy away from own mortal notions then damnation is found in obscurity. In other words decipher what you heard, or end up pecking at the pieces of offered bread like a cultivated bird.

Hamza Egal
Copyright © 2011 

Group 24 (Kenyan/Ethiopian Invasion ): Neighbor Of All Sort

What's your problem neighbor?
why would you help me if you,
in return gonna unsettle me?
the neighbor of all sorts.

Helping my people when doomed
giving them shelter and aid
calling the world to give me attention
the neighbor of all sorts.

Keeping me away from the limelight
by keeping me in dark like i never
belong to the world ever eh?
neighbor of all sorts.

You even represent me internationally
isn't the income result of the outcome
enough for you? once you loot you die for it
neighbor of all sorts.

Now you enter my home and wanna call the shots?
like you know every corners and staff eh, here is
stateless, peace-less, hopeless land that bears no one
to hangout with neighbor of all sorts.

You have done enough for us, but now you're
acting like we're desperate to play a game with you
quit being greedy man and let us move on
neighbor of all sorts.

Ahmed Abdi
Copyright ©201

Flying Without Wings

Ten thousand feet above the earth,
Am cruising across my nation of birth.
But am flying without wings,
Hoping not to fall into this sink
Of frozen land- encapsulated in icy crusts,
With no trace of vegetation growing from those golden dusts.

The land is been licked by years of drought
Sucking the life out of this thirsty terrain but without a doubt,
Those crooked roads have been sewed by unskilled hands.

So I wish I was a tailor,
Then maybe I could stitch a perfect gown to cover her,
Cause I hate to see her naked, I’ll make it out of silk or fur?
It will fit her perfectly from head to toe,
so that this blue dirac with white stars can be as elegant as her rivers flow.

I wish I was a Florist,
Then maybe I could plant seas of flourishing flowers,
So she can smell them and keep it next to her wardrobe,
Or maybe make a scented perfume that attracts the globe.

I wish I was an architect,
Then maybe I could build skyscrapers as tall as her,
Let her touch the sky or gaze at the sunset; whichever she would prefer?
Just because she isn’t in the “world beauty pageant” doesn’t mean just can’t enter
And just because she lacks in knowledge doesn’t mean she can’t be an inventor!

So back to reality! I ponder on how these things can be conquered,
Buts it’s one thing between dreaming and achieving,
Between acting and sleeping,
Between speaking and thinking,
So go ahead! and fly without wings, but don’t forget take her with you,
Because she’s the one that will catch you when you fall to be nurtured, care for and turn to!

Abadir Hashi
Copyright © 2011

The Privileged

sisters, brothers, childless mothers, from the motherland starvin

we from the north the land of pork and bumpin drakes room marvin

toronto niggas feelin marved and...

those not so near they sleep with fear, cuz they don't know what food tomorrow brings 

clothes on their bodies skinny bodies, slavin sweat shops

now here's a boy got every toy, rockin a fitted and a G-shock

she shops while he stops pissin

dying of thirst mouths dry..throats killin 

swallowin hurts.. fruit flies jus chillin

the final hours of his life he feels like speakin to the villan  

why am i lying in this dirt while you consume, my race your killin 

got millions eyeing for your scraps, continent feeds 11 billion 

subtract 4 billion from the math, the population earth has livin you KNOW that don't make sense

makin more food than we can spend 

and while i'm throwin half my meal the poor stay droolin in suspense

food network makin art with meals, hey look thats cool..this carrot bends

now watch me roll this veggie car, watch how bored fools stay ignorant 

who the fuck gave those fuckers a deal

could feed a village full of people with a zucchini steering wheel

and i  probably sound crazy talking about this show, but if you seen, wouldn't believe it

 if you seen it, you would know

lets change our shoes, in search of food, your son won't move, you gotta go

lets clear our minds and take the time, realize they'd use the food we throw

and i'm speakin to myself, i got to thinkin, gotta help

it clicked i'm blinded to the problem, people we're lying to ourselves

and see i know its much more easy, to put your conscience on a shelf

but shit aint right we're living wrong, if we could feel what they have felt 

3rd world..ONE world 

her son...your girl 

don't take advantage of a blessing, the dumb believe these cards were dealt

they eat with greed, loosen there belts

it's up to us to make the change, or in the pot we all shall melt

Ismahan Ahmed 

Mamma Africa

Mamma Africa each time the sun hits on my toes, that is when my spirit swings around the scent of your sweet mangoes 
Mamma Africa when my forage turned gray headed and tribes pledged to behead, the articulation of my feelings felt like a tambourine shake in underground ears 
Every part of me felt undressed as my heritage became a monumental piece ones guarded 

Mamma Africa I remember how the wind swayed with my hair revealing my bead bones underneath 
I envisioned today the turquoise stones layered beside the sea and far beyond 
I saw the paintings of the tropical rain forest draining down in to the dust and then into the river 
I visualized the tears of the young ones were raindrops that felt upon them and would soon be dreaded

Where is the time when we stood up and proudly presented the line of our descent 
Why do we find ourselves in a crumbling oasis and our voice undetected 

Mamma Africa where are the lions that roared though our ears and drew the line of our pride territory 
Where are the pantheras,the survivors of our kingdom? 

Ohh Africa where we the ones that evolved the world? 
Was it not our senses that formed waves? 
Our thoughts that captured the future 

Mamma Africa you have been thrown 
Your territory missgrown 

Mamma Africa there you stand 
Penned down in bottomland 

Mamma Africa the Nile river still upholds it strength 
The thirsty lips of the Sahara Dessert still upholds it prisoners 
Mamma Africa Mount Kilimanjaro stands proudly on it highest peak and declares our diversity 
The Pharaohs still uphold it title, the historians of our nations
Mamma Africa, the horn of Africa stands proudly on its heels and will someday stand on the frontline for the world to see us shine
Sareda Hussein
Copyright © 2011

The Wrong Tribe

My mother only nursed  me twice
and after that, it was a goodbye
on her way to muqdisho shop 
few men with weapons asked her to stop
they wanted to know which tribe she was from
when she told them, they said you can go now
the men looked at each other with an evil smile
and my poor mom, felt helpless and cried 
she said dont kill me, I got a new born child. 
but they said, sorry but your tribe must die
they killed her by shotting her on the chest 3times
I lost my mother, because she was from the "wrong" tribe.

Najax Cabdulahi Sarsarey
Copyright © 2011

Dear father

I don’t know how to seek you out from inside me
the child that I am lost you
to foreign blood
where pulsating veins
and assembled parts
ignite beneath nomadic skin

genetics is where we really bonded

I never felt you close enough to touch
or embraced your scent for memories
of innocence you once neglected

I never once could salvage your existence
From deep-rooted scars
Filled with the absence of you
Or call you forth
With my incessant invocations
that often left me broken
and vacant

In all the years I have known life
I never really knew who I am
Or who you are
And still I search
through the aching love
of men who come from no fathers

Suad Halane
Copyright © 2011

My Orphans

I want to hold them
Console them
Protect them
Free them
But who's them?
Them represents the orphans of the world
The forgotten innocent souls 
The collateral damage to each war
The invisible human beings
The lost youth
The supposed leaders and innovators of tomorrow
But I only hope they make it to sunset
I want to hold them
Cherish them
Revive them
These are victims of the harsh weather and engulfing waters
Diseases and selfish leaders
Arrogance of every organisation and corruptions 
But all I want to do is 
Hold them
Hold every dying orphan 
Boy or Girl
From Bosnia to Somalia
In my bended scarred arms
I want to wrap them 
In the warmth of my treacherous arms
And make the sun jealous
I want to hold them tight
So I can drown them in my tears
And smother them with my love
To a sweet, painless death
I want my ignorant bloody lips to kiss their shallow cheeks
Something like a dark tunnel
Marked by streaks of salty residue
To make my pressure rise
And wake my sleeping heart
I want to give away every drop of blood from my free body
To save a hopeless life
To make a baby's heart pump and hear its holy cry
I would give away my big brown eyes
To an elderly blind man 
So he can see 
The corruption and deadly casualties 
But I only pray
For them, the orphans of the world
To live another day.

Mabsud A
Copyright © 2011

Better Days

Take me back to yesterday
When man would mean what he
would say

Back to when the country was
green and lush
And everyone wasn't in such a

Back to when man didn't live in
And we hadn't destroyed the

Today the car is an expensive
way to travel
Back then all you needed was a
horse and saddle

To a time if you did wrong
You were right if you were

Where you didn't need pills to
help you sleep
Back then they really did count

When only grown-ups went to a pub and
drank whiskey and beer
And no one said sorry you
cannot smoke in here

And if you got into too much trouble
and couldn't get home
Your trusty horse knew where to

And if you didn't know what to
You could go outside and kill a

And the kids treat was bread and
Today, all they want is more

Where the kids could go outside
and climb a tree
The only injury was a scum knee

Where fashion wasn't every girls
only passion
Or you had to match you dress
and shoes
Back then you didn't have to

You only needed the dress you
was wearing at the time
The other one was hanging on
the line

And the women would knit and
Faster as the family grew

Where all your details wasn't on
a computer screen
From what you have done, to
where you have been

And there wasn;t the Internet to
have a look
All your knowledge came from a

You didn't have that darn credit
card, or carry id
You only had to declare, "Yes this
is me"

There was no need for a mobile
You would tell her everything
when you got home

You didn't boast about your one
night stand
You stood up and was a man

Because if you got a woman into
Back then you knew you had
found a wife

And they didn't get themselves
sun burnt
That's something we still haven't

They had the sense to find the
Usually under the veranda's they
had made

When you could write on paper
how you heart really felt
That's when man's feelings were
above his belt

Sure we have found a cure for
many diseases
But back then we had faith in
God's blessings

Man has come a long way
But please take me back to yesterday..

Nomad WithDeen
Copyright © 2011