Showing posts with label Ismail Mohamed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ismail Mohamed. Show all posts

Monday, June 24, 2013

Poet of the week: Ismail Mohamed

What is your name? Where do you live; where do you consider home? 

My name is Ismail Mohamed and I am 22 years old. I currently live in a town called Umeå, which is located in the northern part of Sweden. But I was raised in Gothenburg. A hard question seeing as how I left Somalia at the age of 2 , so I would say that my heart is in Somalia but my body is in Sweden , that's sounds fair right ? Lol. 

Do you remember the first time you wrote a poem and what was it about? Who was the first person you shared it with?

The first time I wrote a poem was when I was 19 years old. I read a book by Scott Peterson titled Me against my Brother. The book was about conflicts in East Africa and how countrymen in Sudan, Rwanda and Somalia killed each other . It explains the main cause of murder amongst brothers in these countries . I remember reading the book and drawing inspiration from it ,I even named my first poem after the book. The poem is about two brothers named Osman and Dahir who have the same mother but different fathers. They both come from different tribes so when the War comes they end up in a conflict. I actually uploaded the poem directly to this page. 

The themes prominent in your poems are often related to politics and Africa;what inspires you to explore these two themes in most of your poems?

 I try to write about subjects I find important or relevant, whether it be about Africa or the revolution in Chile or Malcolm X. Subjects that have shaped history and the world we live in. I read a lot and try to collect as much information about these ''highlights'' in history and incorporate them into my poems. I especially read about Africa and its history because a believe its history has been distorted and we don't receive the whole truth. 

I have noticed a pattern with your writing - you generally take long breaks between poems - what causes this? Do you just stop writing or life happens ;)

Lol , you have been very observant. It depends on whether or not I feel I have something to write about. Most of the things I care about I have already written down and submitted to this page . I would almost say that I have reached my limit as a ''poet''.

Where do you seek your inspiration for your poems after a long gap of not not writing?

It depends , I don't have to be in a certain mood or a certain place to be inspired.  

What is your writing process like? Do you edit a lot? Do you freestyle?

Sometimes it takes me hours to write a poem while on different occasions I can be done in a couple of minutes. I always try to make the last word in each sentence rhyme so it takes awhile. 

Who are some of your favorite poets?

Don't really have a favorite poet but my favorite poem is Rudyard Kipling's poem If. 

What advice do you have for aspiring poets? Any word of advice for closet poets?

I still don't consider myself a poet so if anything I would say seek inspiration and write it down.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Kony - Africom 2012

Joseph Kony? something smells phony
Close up on Jason Russell hugging a black kid feeling lonely
Close up on their tears zoom in on their fears
Queue the sad music and let them share their story
Travel back to the states bathing in their glory
Tell everybody to buy wrist bands and t­-shirts to show your support
Demand the US to act now and bring this man to court
Start a global man hunt, call it the KONY 2012 campaign
In the meantime ignore the Palestinian children still being slain  Ignore the 1.5 million in
Iraq that lost their loved ones, still feeling the pain
Ignore the 500.000 in Sudan massacred for a few nations financial gain
Ignore the 300.000 infants in Dadab starving to death crying in vain
But explain this, who gave the US the right to invade a sovereign state?
Who gave the US to decide a people’s fate Bring Kony to justice?
Sure but what about Mr Bush and Mr Blair Hand shaking , costume wearing war criminals signing secret affairs But their killing kids from afar so I guess that doesn’t count
The real reason for US sudden interest in Uganda ?
Oil in large amounts

Astonishing how a few Americans angrily accuse a warlord
Acting as if they actually care about abducted
African under aged children equipped with AK ‘s
A-list celebrities absorbed, take to twitter why don’t u ask them to point Uganda out on the
Atlas Amazingly the aggressor being assaulted is absent since 04 how inaccurate their assumption
Africa always depicted abroad as in infant in need of adult supervision alas neo –colonialism 

Frequently spreading falsehoods for their on facility
If foreigners so eagerly wanted to fight for their freedom
The fire has been flaming for twenty five years  in Uganda
Fuck the UN feeble fake peace flag  waving firing ‘’friendly’’ at a few 
US financing so called Libyan rebels caging blacks in fabricated zoo’s

Reactions rather rare regarding the ruthless eradication raging in Darfur
Rehearsed revolutions ridiculous rhetoric’s  respected hypocrites
Reforms enriching the rich ,rwandan residents still relive recent events
Rewriting history reaching for their recourses & restoring hope , really ? RIP

Invade the indigenous population investigate and instigate
Insist their incapable of being intelligent and self-sufficient
Instilling a sense of insecurity leading to inferiority never ending animosity
Israeli immigrants


Crucial part in killing Gaddafi for trying to create an African currency ending foreign dependency
Celebrating corrupt kings for their constant co-operation covering  up their crimes
Covert coup d’états  in Chile and Colombia carried  out by the CIA , claim they were communists
Congo conquered, christened  & crucified in the name of civilization quoting King Leopold 
Competing with China not caring nor concerned for the countless caught in the crossfire 

Orchestrating occult operations occupy on every occasion
Obama in the  oval office aiming for Africa’s Oil
Opium openly shipped overseas oppressing Afghanistan

Massacred many  merely marching for a meaning
Media manufactured manipulating the narrow minded
Missiles meant for Iran since the days of Mossadegh
Mosad  mass murdering in the Middle east
But maybe I’m mistaken mislead by Malcolm’s message..

Ismail Mohamed
Copyright © 2012

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Third World


Third world, undesired like a third baby girl born in the third world.
Third world, the west looks upon you and sees only minerals, diamonds and cheap labor.
Third world, selecting leaders of your color, creed and culture so that you may never question their behavior.
Third world, and if there were to rise a savior amongst you, like the rose that grew out of concrete.
Third world, Patrice Lumumba, Che Guevara and Mohammed Mossadeq were never meant to compete.
Third world, they ignore your opinions and call you’re efforts obsolete.
Third world, they don’t want you to grow both in confidence and intellectually.
Third world, they promise you the end of poverty and the presence of prosperity, eventually.

Third world, forcing you in to the free market so that foreign corporations may exploit you’re natural resources.
Third world, raising the price of food, privatizing education, healthcare and banks, and the law reinforces.
Third world, the IMF and the World Bank function as a global loan shark.
Third world, indebted to the Paris Club, waiting for a single spark.
Third world, instead of aiding the masses they provide governments with AK’s and rockets
Third world, the priority and the plan is profit before people stuffed in private pockets.

Third world, the crimes he committed in the Congo in the name of commerce, civilization and Christianity.
Third world, surely you will never forget King Leopold and the absence of humanity.
Third world, they created animosity between brothers in Rwanda in so many ways.
Third world, what was the outcome? 800.000 massacred in less than 100 days.
Third world, bombing you on a daily basis in Palestine
Third world, Israel declares peace is in the process and that everything is fine

Third world, in Afghanistan they burn your crops, forcing you to produce opium
Third world, the missiles they used against you in Iraq contained depleted uranium.
Third world, setting up sweatshops in Cambodia, Sri Lanka and Indonesia
Third world, the horrors you’ve suppressed is enough to make you suffer from amnesia.
Third world, paid 4 cents while working 22 hours.
Third world, the machine spares nothing, everything it quickly devours.

Somalia, trouble brewing in the Horn.
Somalia, babies sentenced to a life of impoverishment without even being born.
Somalia, the drought is not the only cause of famine.
Somalia, they rob you of your fish and pollute your waters
Somalia, sons growing up without their fathers
Somalia, peace and unity they do not desire
Somalia, behind closed doors they plot and conspire
Somalia, just another victim of the west
Somalia, it’s been 20 years since you suffered from cardiac arrest

Ismail Mohamed
Copyright © 2011

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Group Poem 1: Somalia TNP

Somalia - TNP unites us in scripture
We all can paint a perfect picture
Like a mirror it helps us reflect
Bringing forth our greater intellect
Somalia TNP is vital , just like an umbilical cord
Convincing us that the pen is mightier then the sword
Ismail Mohamed

With the pen, I write with fire and flames
Words like glowing passion
Heat flowing through the paper
Aphrodisiac in my pen
I embrace you in lust
The feeling is indescribable
You feel the desire and yearn for it
Like a drug I set up word that is poisoning you
Words to the effect of causing an end.
 
 Zana Haji Hashi 

And, to what seems like the end, it all started when the rules were bending.
And down deep the burial ground of the people aren’t buried well.
Our heroes took their lives to mend things for our wealth.
Playing tricks were the reasoning for such pain.
And that gun shots sadly are used for being heard.
And singing birds aren’t recognized at all and seeing green and true beauty of nature, seems like our mind and imagination is playing games.
But remember it won’t and that it can’t be the end now.
Keeping in faith seems too hard to keep a grip holding tight and holding tears, seems so hard to not break at all.
 
Idil Ahmed Mahamed

But, Somalia is the unbreakable nation for it is all about:
Our land, our pride, our home,
Our poems, our literature, our arts,
Our beauty, our culture, our nomadic traditions,
Our families, our values, our religion.
We are the land of poets,
The land that still persists,
The land that still prevails,
And the land that still yearns for peace,
For peace will surely knock at our doorsteps, saying “Honey, I am home”
We are the poets, of today and tomorrow.
Somalia- The Nation of poets
aims to protect this tradition,
celebrate it with the world,
and inspire the youth to remember,
remember that our adults communicated
through poetic verses with golden glints.
And we aim to celebrate and embrace that!
Somalia ha noolato.
 Halima Ali Ahmed

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Third poem of the week: Malika


See Malika was close to her religion
She wanted to be a pediatrician
But her friends had a different intuition
They wanted limitless attention

But Malika understood
that her friends were no good
Unlike them she didn’t blame the hood


For her current condition
Always cooking in the kitchen
Always washing the dishes
Her friends told her they were fulfilling their wishes


And they loved it
Malika wasn’t it with it
She knew this was forbidden
Her body she kept hidden

She didn’t want to be an object
She'd rather be a reject

Malika was only 19
But already a Somalian queen
All the things shed seen
She knew the streets were mean
That they didn’t leave a single girl clean

And she knew she would never give in
In the end she would win
She was almost free from sin

Always reminding herself that this life was a test
And the only thing that matters is how your heart is ,beating in your chest
One of her friends suffered cardiac arrest

U could tell by the way she dressed
While she progressed
Her friends fell far in the mess
So much stress
Leadin a double life more or less

They fell for all the bullshit
And all the guys they ran with
They were like a peace of meat
Replaceable, just like a dirty bed sheet

But from Malika they couldn’t get a taste
And because of this their time they didn’t waste
Cuz they all new Malika was pure and chaste


Her worldy desires she was fighting with her all
She was standing tall
While constantly witnessing others around her fall..



THIS IS FOR ALL MY SISTERS STAYING STRONG IN THESE HARD TIMES ! !
Note: Malika means Queen in Arabic




Ismail Mohamed '' Aka Ismaciil Boqorka Bosaso''
Copyright © 2009

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Terrorist

Who is the terrorist  
Is it the ones targeting tanks with stones 
Or is it soldiers equiped with rifles and laser guided drones 
Is it the millions starving, nothing but skin and bones 
Or is it the kings and queens reclining on top of thrones 
Is the presidents dressed in suits fabricating lies like clones 

Is it the participator or the bystander 
Is it the soldier or the commander 
Is it the dictator or the freedom fighter 
Is it the speaker of truth or the lier 

The most recongnized terrorist resides somewhere in the middle east 
Not to worry America shall protect you from this horrific beast 
America the land of the free and the home of the brave  
America , divide conquer and enslave 
Not aiming at the people but adressing the goverment 
Sending thousands of innocenct to a life of imprisonment 
While forcing upon others their unjust establishment 

Just cuz the president is black dont mean you're  racially intertwined 
He's just as corrupt as the last one who resigned  
Cuz greed is colour blind  
Claiming they take action in the name of mankind 
If Bush drained Iraq  
Then Obama is going to drain Libya and thats a fact

Supporting their on kind of ''revolution'' 
And then coming up with their own ''solution'' 
Their the judge, jury and deliver the prosecution 
Ultimatly deciding the execution 
Leaving the people with nothing close to a retrobution 
Wasn't 2003 all about weapons of mass destruction? 
Well today its a country in dysfunction  
And the cause is simple, a

 three letter word 
Confrent them and its  something they've never heard 

If you try to protest or resist 
Their quick to lable you a terrorist 
And a threat to a democracy that doesnt exist 
History is repeating itself, but what have we learned? 
If it doesnt affect us were most likely not consurned 
Made you believe Islam is to blame for everything that has ocurred 

So who is the terrorist? 

Ismail Mopreme
Copyright © 2011

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Group Poem 16 (ekphrasis) :Birds


They say a picture says more than a thousand words
Then picture me amongst these thousand birds 
Cuz birds don’t fuss and fight over minor things

What I wouldn’t give to trade my arms for their wings 
Flying freely without a care in the universe

What I wouldn’t give to trade my life for theirs

Soaring effortlessly in the night sky
What I wouldn’t give for a chance 2 fly
See it doesn’t matter to them they fly in any sorts of weather


Across countries and continents some heavy some light as a feather
Some strong some weak

Some of them even speak

Birds come and go don’t call a particular place their home
Their found everywhere from Cape Town 2 Rome
 And they seldom found alone often fly in groups
Flying in perfect formation as if they were trained troops

Unlike they know when 2 open and close their beak

If a picture says more than a thousand words , then why speak ?

Ismail Mopreme
Copyright © 2010

Friday, December 10, 2010

HipHop

Allow me to take you to a journey back in time
When hiphop was pure and at its prime
Now its degraded and almost dead
Lyrical content dont matter no more
As long as you can bob ya head to a funky beat.
Our women degraded portrayed like a peace of meat

Im feeling like J Cole, losing my balance
Nowadays its all about money never is about talent
Jayz is a puppet he aint runnin this town
Plus Lupe said he would never dumb it down

That's why these devils put his album on hold
Like a convict on parole
And who ever said being new is better than being old.
They couldn't have ment hiphop, truth be told
Pac promised me better dayz , but am still waiting 4 it to unfold

Gangstar asked ,maybe your soul you'd sell 2 have mass apeal
Akon was cool when he mentioned the Ghetto
Got a little money now  he makin songs with David Guetta

See it's like simple Mathematics
Mos Def got me feeling all extatic
Nas used 2 kick it when he was so ILLmatic
But look at the outcome it's so tragic
We got Lil wayne waisting oxygen on a lollipop
50 cent tryna take us 2 the candy shop!?
What ever happend to The Furious 5 screaming let the knowledge drop
Na, somebody gotta make the madness stop
Dead Prez trying 2 put HipHop back on track
Im cool like dat as long as they bring Digable Planets back

So you can thank me later like i was Drake
Real rappers dont blend in with the fake
While y'all sleeping 2 Tpain , Talib Kweli keeping me wide awake
KRS One got me listening 2 the sound of tha police
Knaan asking, when will the violence seize
Remember when Lauryn Hill was a part of the fugees?
She always used 2 kill me softly
Now imma bout 2 go crazy like Gnarls Barkely
We need more concious niggaz like Bob Marley

And Immortal Tecchnique is still dancing with the devil
But still none of these ''rappers'' come close to his level
It's like we only hear nonsense on the radio 2day
You ever heard Jedi Mind Tricks getting radio play?
Man , Common told me he used 2 love H.E.R.
I told him ive moved and found another....

Ismail Mopreme
Copyright © 2010

Friday, October 8, 2010

Freedom

Malcolm X said that freedom and death go hand in hand

And that the most dangerous weapon is an educated black man

Freedom is what seperates us as indivduals , my salute to those who take a stand

Rewind back to 21 february 1965

Murderd at the age of 40, but imprinted in our hearts 4 ever more

Shining black serpent

Refused to be the white mans servant

But with disobedience came consequence

The symbol of freedom shot in the chest

He must have thought of those very words when he took his last breath

Fast forward 46 yrs and some are still opressed..

Mahatma Ghandi said that an eye for and eye will leave us all blind

Who knew he would be killed by his own kind

Murderd at the age of 79

30 Janaury 1948

On his nightly strole , they sealed his fate

He restrained from all form of violence

Preaching peace and equality, one shot left all of India in complete silence..

Martin Luther King said that he had a dream

But behind closed doors they where plotting and evil scheme

Adressed racial differences, far from obscene

Marched, consulted and pleaded

Words to the masses, they should have heeded

Struck down and though his people bled

Dragged through the streets and left for dead

And even if their eyes were dry from all the tears they had shed

He advices them to turn the other cheek

Followed the teachings of Ghandi, speak..

Murderd at the age of 39

With that, the dream turned in to a nightmare, an evil crime

4 april 1968..

Tupac Amaru Shakur said if you dont have something to live for

Then find something to die for

He adressed the wealthy and spoke for the poor

But they grew weary and wanted to settle the score

Cuz he wasn't just a rapper more of a revolutionary

People were primary the goverment was secondary

Socialy aware, at this time this was very rare

Murderd at the age of 25

Never will there be another rapper more vigilant and live..

13 september 1996

Just another black man caught up in the mix...

See Im old enough to know there aint no justice

Do you really want to fight for freedom, knowing what the price is ?

Ismail Mopreme

Copyright © 2010

{Group poem 13 part 8} "Identity"

Identity,what is it ?

Does it define you and me ?

Or is it something we chose to embrace

Does our identity depend on time and place?

Were still searching so we aint got time to waiste

I think its something to ponder upon in efforts to help us grow

When we enter were Maxamed , when we leave where Moe

We develope split personalities

Never curse when were at home but once outside we spit out all kind of profanities

But can u blame us ?

When we depend on MTV to entertain us

Lost and confused in the 21 century

Still searching for clues leading to our identity...

Ismail Mohamed

Copyright © 2010

Thursday, July 29, 2010

{Group poem 11 Part 1} Domestic Abuse [brothers version]

Let me make it short and succinct
Nonetheless sincere
None should live in fear
Nor should they despair
The four corners of the home are there to confine
Not hatred, abuse or violence rather
To build bonds and cultivate the future
To express and rest the soul from stresses of the outside
The four corners are not there to limit
Rather to calm and preserve the soul
The walls are not there to reflect the sound of violence
But a source of silence for the intimate moments
In short, make your home a ‘Home Sweet Home’!
-Duale


Keeping silence
Holding me in place with violence
Keeping it for myself
Holding my head since I was twelve
Keeping hate locked away
Holding weakness over my head so I had to stay
Keeping me in suspense
Holding my hand with force, so intense
Keeping me alive
Holding my water to survive
Keeping the traffic moving while we fight
Holding my bruises up to the light
Keeping down, slapped in the face, can’t hear your voice
Holding up, can’t sense your sight, I had no choice
Keeping away from doing harm
Holding tight to your love and charm
Keeping love a mystery, our bond grows stronger
Holding out your temper, just a little bit longer
Keeping out of trouble
Holding back, I receive twice and double
Keeping to your word, deception and lies
Holding on to your vow, teary and lonely nights
Keeping me in prison
-Pen 'N' Paper


Domestic is abuse it is more than just a beating
It leaves the child with mental scars, prohibiting him from eating
So he blocks everything out and becomes numb
It aint his fault that when he was a baby he used to suck his thumb
Constantly being called useless and dumb
Scarred both mentally and physically
He never has nightmares, the nightmare being his reality
Wondering what the cause is for this daily punishment
Being locked up alone at night in the basement
Battered and bruised
Ridiculed and abused
Assaulted and accused
Hitting a child is not matter of discipline
Try to put yourself in that person’s position…
-Ismail


Duale mahdi, Pen 'N' Paper and Ismail Mopreme
Copyright © 2010

Sunday, July 18, 2010

I knew this brother...

I knew this brother, dont want to give away his name
Growing up he was everything we wanted to be, he had money and fame
And everyday was different, never the same
He had all the girls and played them like a game
He had the latest clothes on
Never wore the same shoes twice as he felt it was wrong
But he wasn’t happy and was putting up a mask
I often wondered what was wrong but didn’t dare to ask

I minded my own business but admired him from afar
No need to lie I too wanted to be the neighbourhood star
And then one night I saw him, stumbling
I approached him, he started talking but I couldn’t understand, he was mumbling
Then the smell of alcohol entered my nose
He was intoxicated; I prayed he didn’t leave the smell on my clothes
This was the price he had to pay, I suppose

But then he started to explain and confess
That he was far from happy living in distress
He said he bought materialistic things in hopes of relieving the stress
‘’My life is empty and one big mess’’
I was shocked and couldn’t believe what I was hearing
I looked at him and noticed he was wearing an earring

I was blinded by my worldly desires
Thinking the one who has it all is the one whom everyone admires
I couldn’t be more far away from the truth

I went home and took a shower
I must have stood there almost an hour
Iblis takes everything that is sweet and makes it sour
So many times I gave him all the power
I didn’t even put up a fight
But I swore from that night
I would struggle with all my might

I knew this brother don’t want to give away his name
I used to avoid him as he didn’t have money or fame
The girls didn’t even know his name
When I reminisce on the past I feel full of shame
Cuz this brother lived simple, always in the mosque always the same
I thought he was annoying and that he always used to nag
Constantly reminding me of death, I looked at his clothes, he lacked swag
Indeed he was happy and never wore a mask
I often wondered what was the cause but didn’t care to ask




And I noticed every time I saw him he greeted me with a smile
‘’Asc brother, lets sit and take for a while’’
It went in and out through the other
‘’Inshallah and you too brother’’
Was what I forced myself to utter

I sighed and went on with my pursuit of ‘’happiness’’

But he didn’t give up on me and I wondered why
Cuz he knew I wasn’t interested but he never passed by
Without always giving it another try

Now it was the other way around
I searched for him everywhere but he was nowhere to be found
So I went to the mosque and hoped he would be there
Longing for his advice he always was willing to share
But to my disappointment he wasn’t in sight
I asked the imam, he answered that he had departed
I asked him where so I could get my journey started
He gave me a sad look and said he had martyred…

He died while saving a sister
She didn’t see the buss coming when she crossed the street
He pushed her out of the way, swiping her off of her feet
She ran towards him , knowing what had occurred
La illaha illalah was all she heard…


Ismail Mopreme
Copyright © 2010