Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Mother's Lap

I know a place where I can lay my head,  

watch a movie, and imagine how it must have been.  

I know a place where I can lay my head,

think about my day, and think about my plans.

I know a place where I can lay my head,

get lost in dreams, and get a little rub.

I know a place where I can lay my head,

close my eyes, and hear a silent lullaby.

By Safiya Elmi, 8 years


What is life? I have asked myself this question more times than I can remember. I wrestled with it last spring and I thought the answer was agreed upon by the summer. The trees have scattered their leaves travelling far from the roots of which they came, following the cold breeze past distant lands and seas. On my face I feel the elements of winter and now in my heart the question decides to renter.

In all honesty I believe the answer awaits me upon my death, they say you reflect over your life as you take your last breath.  Whether what they say is true or false I will know with my final pulse. Until then life is and nothing more than a stringent test, judged on the use of that which I am blessed. Time, health, wealth and intelligence so until I am withered by age, every day of my life will be a white blank page.

I am from a place where the human has long forgotten that he was the chosen. Living just to consume and always in expectancy for anything and everything frozen.  Nostalgic hunger that shakes the liver, awaiting vanity to come quick and deliver.  Addicted to that daily dose of constructed reality, building a delusional and corrosive society. And here I am floating in the mirror asking myself why I am always standing and gazing at this familiar sinner.

The cerebral cortex was given to very man and woman for a reason, yet our perceptions and thoughts have been rendered dormant. We shy away or neglect responsibility as if it was a prescription.  These days looking at the world gives me much to say, sometimes I feel like I alone carry the memories of those who have unjustly past away. To explain further I asked a brother a question saying what if it was your mother who was sustenance for the vulture even before her corpse begins to decay.

Would you stand before me today with that same line of thought, saying with such resolve that only an idiot would give Somalia time and support.  I had to stop and wait for that familiar feeling of ignition. It’s this revolutionist mentality that reminds me those in a bad place in life are never beneath me. The thing about pain is it flows like an ocean current, just because it hasn’t drifted to your shores you think of it as stagnant.

Cultured hypocrisy has but one major repugnant, to think of yourself worthy by hurting the innocent. Theories played into strategies to drive the naive to their knees, promising peace while surely spreading and maintaining the disease. From here on end that has to change because we are that process of transition. Every single one of us has a part to play in life’s intricate equation. In all honesty the hardest part of it all is to determine your position.

Waking up just to retreat to slumber is monotonous; tediously watch the hour glass for the inevitable grave. Working for nothing of value in the expiring plains of today will only lead to the dismay of wondering why. I sincerely believe that my salvation depends on eternity and the pavements of good that I lay.

Come to think of it all at the end of the day I am human, genetically disposed to misdeed. For every sin I can wash away with action of a better manner and whole hearted intentions of the selfless kind. We all transgress if not upon one another then it is upon our lord and creator. My grandmother always says never ever stop making a prayer because it opens the doors for heaven to fill your world with the most amazing wonder.

Hamza Egal
Copyright © 2011

A Sign from God

It is insane, how much of ourselves we pour into others.
How deeply we love, hope and believe.
And how we gaze at our men,
All lazy eyed and opened hearts,
As if- their fingertips could caress open wounds
And soothe the heart of she who cannot see
How beautiful God has made her.

It is in vain
That we try to unearth the secrets of the universe,
That we learn the stars 
As though God had left a map of our destinies we could trace,
We create charts.
Venus is of love-they say
And the meaning of life is whispered into the secret language of the winds.
But if we could only understand
If we could only understand, that this is all in vain.

That loving a man will not make you beautiful.
That he cannot love you, when you are incapable of loving yourself 
And he can break you; leave you staring at the moon,
Eyes reflecting a silent cry for all the times you’ve bled and all the times you’ve healed.
But you will heal and will live.
Just as the rain fertilises a barren field,
You will blossom.

And you will come to know that there is no fountain of youth, 
The young, no more immortal than the old.
And the meaning of life is not concealed in the hieroglyphics of ancient caves
Nor is it muted by the murmurings of desert winds
But clear in the small mercies of everyday.
A child whispering into the ear of his broken mother
“Everything is going to be okay”.

That love is not written in the stars;
In the palm of a fortune teller,
Or in the heat of a drunken moment.
But in the eyes of a man
Who after thirty years of marriage, 
Still tells his wife that she is beautiful
And places kisses across the scars of where her breast used to be. 

You see
I have seen in the faces of strangers
A sign from God
That everything is going to be okay.

 (A work in progress....its been awhile! :D)

Farah Gabdon
Copyright © 2009

Have I Ever

Have I ever. . .?

Have I ever told you this story before.
Would you ask me for ever more.
It begins with the crucial
while it ends ‘as unusual’
mind is asked for separation
pain is called a sensation
mind the superficial thing
while the heart doesn’t give in.
All we really need. . .
'is to protect the seed.'

Have I ever told you how beautiful she is.
Would you ever ask me about life and its bliss.
One light, one soul, separated like a shadow
praised by the colours, you call it shallow,
such a confusion.
Tears left behind that bleak landscape
on your face (sadness on tape)
dry and salty Wadis
landmarks left behind
on the dark skin, facing the past of (so) malis.

Have I ever told you about, Love.
“What do you know about it?” rhetoric, is the broken soul.
Shed and ‘unshed’ tears, would they ever fill
dry Webi Shabeelle, down the hill
peace is hardly found
if mind and heart ain’t sound
decided to convince me by that happy nature
that universal gesture
a smile and a prayer
living my life by the written page – layer by layer
. . . have I ever?

Pen 'N' Paper
Copyright © 2011

Man's godly perception

As you live and learn you get to know that to have is to owe
We’re defined by our greed that we give or receive because of our wealth plus our deeds…
It’s not who we are it’s who we seem to be
Only in the eyes of men do we have to pretend here’s the lesson…
The road to humanly redemption is about perception…the road to heavenly redemption is about a connection…to a higher power… but to live right in this life the power is ours… so the question is…in this life should I be a perfectionist?
…when every man has a different perception of what perfection is!!!!

Zack Ahmed
Copyright © 2011


It is you who enlightened me,when I surrendered to the darkness 
It is your giving hand that suspended my sadness 
It is you who have embellished my life ,when it was nearly fading to dust 
It is you who have painted the upland i fasten on,when my strength couldn't uphold 
It is you who have elevated the river flood and dazzled the paddy field with the touch of the wind 
 Because of you harmony layed ahead and my pain healed by you purified touch 
Because of you the desert rose outgrown its pot and reached lengths beyond its roots. 
It is your scent I followed when i was lost in the forest 
It is your wings that kept me warm,when I reached your nest 
It is your feathers that I felt upon, when the coldness blinded me 
It is you who layed the rainbow on my path,when the midst drew me in to the waterfall 
It is you who sheltered me ,when I was soak en by the winter rainfall 
It is your thunder that kept away my fear 
And it is your heart that took away my tears 

Sareda Hussein
Copyright © 2011


So I'm told "God brings men into deep waters not to drown them but to cleanse them" 
But my heart forever complains Knowing that He works in His mysterious ways 
but I still dare ask why 
Looking around I know some have it worse than I do 
Wait ... just push that thought out of my head for a sec 
cos my problems seem to weigh me down more than theirs do 
I raise my hands up asking "God what can I do? 
Temporarily blind to see that He's given me al the answers to help me make do 
And still, 
my problems don't seem to vanish 
Seems like the only time I get to escape them is in my sleep
But even then it's restless 
I know I'll see them in the morning 
not even thinking "How do I know I'll wake up tomorrow?" 
Death is so from my mind right now, 
with my worldy problems blocking my every view 
Then I think, "God must be punishing me!" 
I replay my dumb days in my head and I can't help but cry 
Not thinking, "Hey can't you see your still alive 
He wants you to repent and move on with your life 
He wants you to cry to Him." 
But being an insaan, I'm too stubborn too see 
I mean, it's easy for me to give those that ask for advise some advise
"God sees and hears all, He will help you." 
So why can't I tell myself the same? 
Seems like the devil has me exactly where he wants 
sad, confused and lonely ... 
Cos in reality, God IS the only One that can help 
All I need is to devout my life to him 
bringing peace to my sou 
And whatever problem arises I just take it along 
Because He who created all, 
has always got my back.

Hibaaq Ahmed
Copyright 2011