Dearest TNP members and poets :)
The past few days I have been receiving an email from someone named Yasin Ahmed who claimed the way Somalia TNP posted poems were very bias and often impartial towards a group of people mostly from the tribe that my family is, my friends and finally my family members. I ignored Yasin’s email altogether because I found it to be quite stupid. He sent me another email last night saying his accusations were true and I was embarrassed and therefore did now want to write back. Finally today I decided instead of sending brother Yasin an email back I would post a note here for everyone to see so the question never raises again. Hopefully.
First and foremost I am the most anti-qabil (anti-tribe) person you will ever meet on the face of this earth. I do not embrace or celebrate something that has destructed my nation and in general the continent I am from. Many might argue qabil was not the source behind Somalia’s failure and their argument might be valid but to me seeing two Somalis fight and literally kill each other in foreign land because of the different tribe they subscribe to is a failure in itself. The fact that a group of Somalis will send charity based money to people who are of their tribe rather than those who are desperate in need of it is a failure. The fact that the Somali politics is structured with tribal ideology is a failure. The fact that we have to assume each activists will ONLY advocate for those from their tribe is a failure. And above all discriminating against another Somali who speaks and shares the same values, culture, tradition and often religion because of some mythical story of how the tribe they subscribe to came about is beyond failure. It is morally repugnant and haram. And, I for one do not embrace failure – and for that matter I do not embrace tribe. On a lighter note – How the hell does this person knows the tribes of the 50+ poets of this page? I have been communicating with each one of them for the past year – and I personally do not give two cents about any Somali tribe including my own and I am sure the same is true for the poets of this page. And, most importantly I have never posted a pro-tribal poem..Never. Anti-tribal poems are quite welcome on the other hand :)
The other issue this person raised was I post poems of my friends – this might be true. A lot of the TNP poets are people I call friends, many I love and respect dearly. However, I met them all (except for three) through Somalia TNP and that is what gave birth to our friendship J People in this group are talented, great poets, wonderful individuals and they for one do not need a friendship pass or for that matter even tribal token to have their work posted and celebrated. They are beyond that!!
Aha, family....You might see a lot of people with “Ali or Ahmed” as their last names on this page but I ensure you the only family member who thinks highly of this page lol is my sister (Fatima). And, trust me although we live in the same room she emails her poems to me or tags me if she posts them on FaceBook and that is how they get published. And, most important in the past year and few months she has only sent me 5 poems of hers.
So in conclusion, Yasin Ahmed (we share the same last name btw and you are far from being a family member to me) please know the reason why I ignored your emails were not because I was embarrassed but rather because I find it irksome and stupid that a talented person like yourself would waste their time in accusing someone of tribalism when they could very well use that time to accomplish something beneficial.
Regards,
-Halima Ahmed.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
A Speaking Womb
In the Swiss built hospital of SOS in Mogadishu an ugly incident happened several months back. A doctor saved a pregnant women by removing her womb. Her husband demanded compensation for the loss as he claimed that he did not authorize the doctor to take such action. But the doctor insisted that without the removal of the already ruptured womb, the life of the patient wouldn't have been saved. This has led to closure of hospital. The city grew tense. No where women could receive services free of charge other than SOS hospital. Some women died while impasse was being dealt with. Other pregnant mothers lived with worry and tremendous emotional stress as they didn't know where they would go if time came to deliver the baby. When the case was settled, nobody apologized to these mothers and the general public. In this short poem, the womb gives an apology to the people especially families who lost mothers. It also apologizes to mothers who underwent emotional pain as a result of the hospital closure.
I am An organ. An organ I am
Just an organ albeit important
I am a womb. A ruptured womb I am
From inside my owner I was removed
Gates of trouble were flung open
The steam of bitter row boiled over
compensation demanded
Explanation denied
Doctors drowned in the depths of fear
Hospital services forcefully suspended
Poor mothers became a statistic
Clerics of Islamic courts intervened
With cash payment case was settled
But no one took the blame
No party apologized to public
Nobody sympathized with the mothers
Nobody comforted the braved families
Tears of pain dried in their eyes
I'm sorry. So sorry I am
Brothers and sisters
People of Mogadishu
Please accept my apology
I'm the cause of this trouble
I'm the cause of this misery
Abdi-Noor Haji Mohamed (Eagle Of Hope)
Copyright ©2010
I am An organ. An organ I am
Just an organ albeit important
I am a womb. A ruptured womb I am
From inside my owner I was removed
Gates of trouble were flung open
The steam of bitter row boiled over
compensation demanded
Explanation denied
Doctors drowned in the depths of fear
Hospital services forcefully suspended
Poor mothers became a statistic
Clerics of Islamic courts intervened
With cash payment case was settled
But no one took the blame
No party apologized to public
Nobody sympathized with the mothers
Nobody comforted the braved families
Tears of pain dried in their eyes
I'm sorry. So sorry I am
Brothers and sisters
People of Mogadishu
Please accept my apology
I'm the cause of this trouble
I'm the cause of this misery
Abdi-Noor Haji Mohamed (Eagle Of Hope)
Copyright ©2010
My Sakura
He is my emblem of love,
Affectionate,
White morals,
Tinged with palest of pink petals
Supported by strong stem of a man
Sadly,
He was never promised to be mine a second longer than his bloom.
So if tomorrow I awake,
To find a fleeting pink carpet of your petals laying at my feet,
Just know that
Like the coming of spring,
You represented new life to me
And watching you bloom this last year,
Was as spectacular as watching a Japanese Cheery Tree blossom.
Hayat Magan
Copyright © 2010
Affectionate,
White morals,
Tinged with palest of pink petals
Supported by strong stem of a man
Sadly,
He was never promised to be mine a second longer than his bloom.
So if tomorrow I awake,
To find a fleeting pink carpet of your petals laying at my feet,
Just know that
Like the coming of spring,
You represented new life to me
And watching you bloom this last year,
Was as spectacular as watching a Japanese Cheery Tree blossom.
Hayat Magan
Copyright © 2010
Sparks of Light
Like a star I was for you
Brighter than any other
You had your wishes
I was prepared to meet them
But like all other stars, I could be extinguished
And for you my time came
You could have let me in due time
So I could move on
So I could continue to shine
But not for you
You never let me
Until I was exhausted
You continued until you had me in your grip
And then...released it like a falling star
The stardust appeared to slow down
and nothing was as before
A fallen star, I became
One in which you lost
A similar, you'll never find
and I am pleased until I find my sky
You think you put out the star
That it will never shine again
But a spark of light is still in me
Just waiting to shine...
Stronger than ever !
Zana H Hashi
Copyright © 2010
Brighter than any other
You had your wishes
I was prepared to meet them
But like all other stars, I could be extinguished
And for you my time came
You could have let me in due time
So I could move on
So I could continue to shine
But not for you
You never let me
Until I was exhausted
You continued until you had me in your grip
And then...released it like a falling star
The stardust appeared to slow down
and nothing was as before
A fallen star, I became
One in which you lost
A similar, you'll never find
and I am pleased until I find my sky
You think you put out the star
That it will never shine again
But a spark of light is still in me
Just waiting to shine...
Stronger than ever !
Zana H Hashi
Copyright © 2010
Just like you I am part of humanity
I introduce myself. Who am I do you ask? Well, I am Me.
Just like you I am part of humanity.
I am a young Somali female who is driven by the famous words of Mr. King. “I have a dream.” But unlike him it's not for racial equality.
But I yearn for something much deeper than that.
I dream that there will be a day where we will live in Tribal tranquility. I dream that we will be able to medicalise the disease in our hearts and mind.
A disease formed by the wounds that were left untreated. A disease that clouds our eyes with blood. A disease which makes us green with envy as we look on to other countries. A disease that has blackened our hearts which were once full of joy.
If you were deaf and I could sign, would there be dialect. Or if you were blind would you condemn me because of my tribe.
To me in the world there are only people of two kinds, those who do wrong and those who do right.
Does it make sense to you that the blacks can forgive the white, but we are divided by tribe?
I already stand on grounds that aren't my own, and hold two cultures on either side. Because of a mindless civil war I am severely deprived. Deprived of my Mother land, my mother tongue, my culture and My Somali pride.
So I ask you this, How Dare You complicate my Life with Tribe?
Shukri C. Ahmed
Copyright © 2010
Just like you I am part of humanity.
I am a young Somali female who is driven by the famous words of Mr. King. “I have a dream.” But unlike him it's not for racial equality.
But I yearn for something much deeper than that.
I dream that there will be a day where we will live in Tribal tranquility. I dream that we will be able to medicalise the disease in our hearts and mind.
A disease formed by the wounds that were left untreated. A disease that clouds our eyes with blood. A disease which makes us green with envy as we look on to other countries. A disease that has blackened our hearts which were once full of joy.
If you were deaf and I could sign, would there be dialect. Or if you were blind would you condemn me because of my tribe.
To me in the world there are only people of two kinds, those who do wrong and those who do right.
Does it make sense to you that the blacks can forgive the white, but we are divided by tribe?
I already stand on grounds that aren't my own, and hold two cultures on either side. Because of a mindless civil war I am severely deprived. Deprived of my Mother land, my mother tongue, my culture and My Somali pride.
So I ask you this, How Dare You complicate my Life with Tribe?
Shukri C. Ahmed
Copyright © 2010
Static
Static in the air static in my ear
When they look at me, in hollow eyes I see the fear
My mouth is wide open, but the words are unfamiliar
Even if I were shouting, ignorance wouldn’t allow them to hear
Some times I wish I could just disappear
So I run until there is no more earth to tread
My soul wavers, holding on by a single thread
Whispering, turn to the darkness instead
Fighting demons on the street and demons in my head
Caught by the temptations of the apple
My pulse and heart beat are far from stable
And my body, exhausted no longer able
Like Eve the devil wants into my sacred temple
Saying why do they watch you die and crumble
Expecting you to live the life of a rat stuck in a tunnel
No exit and no hole to dig out and funnel
With a burst out of the static I stumble
What they don’t seem to see and understand
This struggling all thou heavy, is a brand
Not your fashionable designer, but it feeds my fire
Its warmth a weapon and a restraining cover
Consider me the animal, when I am the human
My defence mechanism takes me to a place of seclusion
I peel away my inhibition, I love my reflection
As it rides the waves on the surface of the water
I wash my face in the cool river, surrounded by nature
Clouds roll in the distance, taking away the static and thunder
Who said my days had to be a long and hard sentence
Just my way of existence, no living someone else pretence
No simulation, for once pay attention and listen
I am not alien or a numbered inmate of your prison
My veins are laced so my blood is ancient wisdom
Pour it on the soil because you fear my religion
Label me with hate and call it terrorism
No longer justified, everyone in hand has a prism
Your lies and true colours in clear vision
I raise my hands to the heavens and my foresight is clear
Hate me or love me it doesn’t matter, because I am here
I am not your subject, nor do I aspire to be your master
I want to live my life with at least one peaceful chapter
Hamza egal
copyright © 2010
When they look at me, in hollow eyes I see the fear
My mouth is wide open, but the words are unfamiliar
Even if I were shouting, ignorance wouldn’t allow them to hear
Some times I wish I could just disappear
So I run until there is no more earth to tread
My soul wavers, holding on by a single thread
Whispering, turn to the darkness instead
Fighting demons on the street and demons in my head
Caught by the temptations of the apple
My pulse and heart beat are far from stable
And my body, exhausted no longer able
Like Eve the devil wants into my sacred temple
Saying why do they watch you die and crumble
Expecting you to live the life of a rat stuck in a tunnel
No exit and no hole to dig out and funnel
With a burst out of the static I stumble
What they don’t seem to see and understand
This struggling all thou heavy, is a brand
Not your fashionable designer, but it feeds my fire
Its warmth a weapon and a restraining cover
Consider me the animal, when I am the human
My defence mechanism takes me to a place of seclusion
I peel away my inhibition, I love my reflection
As it rides the waves on the surface of the water
I wash my face in the cool river, surrounded by nature
Clouds roll in the distance, taking away the static and thunder
Who said my days had to be a long and hard sentence
Just my way of existence, no living someone else pretence
No simulation, for once pay attention and listen
I am not alien or a numbered inmate of your prison
My veins are laced so my blood is ancient wisdom
Pour it on the soil because you fear my religion
Label me with hate and call it terrorism
No longer justified, everyone in hand has a prism
Your lies and true colours in clear vision
I raise my hands to the heavens and my foresight is clear
Hate me or love me it doesn’t matter, because I am here
I am not your subject, nor do I aspire to be your master
I want to live my life with at least one peaceful chapter
Hamza egal
copyright © 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
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
Hobbeyo Hobba
Hobbeyo Hobba
is the start of a sweet lullaby my mother used to sing to me
those numerous nights where i was a foe to my sleep
she would hold me in her thin arms, rocking me to the rhythm of the waves, to ease my discomfort
Hobbeyo Hobba
she would sing to me, while i was drinking fresh camel milk
with her soft motherly voice, soothing my innocent infant soul
Hobbeyo Hobba
reciting tales about my great grandfathers and how they were strong men
and loyal to their kinship
Hobbeyo Hobba
you could see the dreams and hopes in the eyes of my teenage mother
And they were followed by tears and regret
Hobbeyo Hobba
to the lonely night that she gave birth to me, in the middle of the outskirts of our town
Alone with her 2 hands and soaked in her salty tears
And by the grace of Allah, i was a healthy baby, Alhamdoulilah
Hobbeyo Hobba
for the night i laid beside the dead body of my young mother while hearing the sounds of bombs and bullets shooting
And the sight of her white veil drenched in her blood to which will haunt me forever
And that night, i sang to her, a lullaby
Hobbeyo Hobba Hooyo Macaaney ...
Mabsud Ali
Copyright © 2010
is the start of a sweet lullaby my mother used to sing to me
those numerous nights where i was a foe to my sleep
she would hold me in her thin arms, rocking me to the rhythm of the waves, to ease my discomfort
Hobbeyo Hobba
she would sing to me, while i was drinking fresh camel milk
with her soft motherly voice, soothing my innocent infant soul
Hobbeyo Hobba
reciting tales about my great grandfathers and how they were strong men
and loyal to their kinship
Hobbeyo Hobba
you could see the dreams and hopes in the eyes of my teenage mother
And they were followed by tears and regret
Hobbeyo Hobba
to the lonely night that she gave birth to me, in the middle of the outskirts of our town
Alone with her 2 hands and soaked in her salty tears
And by the grace of Allah, i was a healthy baby, Alhamdoulilah
Hobbeyo Hobba
for the night i laid beside the dead body of my young mother while hearing the sounds of bombs and bullets shooting
And the sight of her white veil drenched in her blood to which will haunt me forever
And that night, i sang to her, a lullaby
Hobbeyo Hobba Hooyo Macaaney ...
Mabsud Ali
Copyright © 2010
In Search of You
Woke up from the same place I went to bed
Mustered enough energy to continue for a new day
In search of you, to reconnect again
Tracing your footsteps, now a shadowy ghost
Accompanied by the imprinted memories of you, and our time together
Your kiss may have faded
The same way as your warmth evaporated
Yet they remain alive and all well
Preserved in my heart of memories
Each time I find myself lost and discouraged
They will guide me back on track
Enjoy your summer--soon you will find yourself in search mode, lol.
Sadiiq Ashuhle
Copyright © 2010
Mustered enough energy to continue for a new day
In search of you, to reconnect again
Tracing your footsteps, now a shadowy ghost
Accompanied by the imprinted memories of you, and our time together
Your kiss may have faded
The same way as your warmth evaporated
Yet they remain alive and all well
Preserved in my heart of memories
Each time I find myself lost and discouraged
They will guide me back on track
Enjoy your summer--soon you will find yourself in search mode, lol.
Sadiiq Ashuhle
Copyright © 2010
Definition
Every nation celebrates its pride
When its strength and morals were tested
Nations collided to secure their citizens
Roads paved for a successful future
Yet the seeds of hatred planted at every corner
At times of vulnerability will they bear fruit
Break bonds and split family
Bring nations to their knees
Many question what went wrong
Clearly the answer lies in the definition
How we define, ultimately divides
Definition is our last line of Defense
Duale mahdi
Copyright © 2010
When its strength and morals were tested
Nations collided to secure their citizens
Roads paved for a successful future
Yet the seeds of hatred planted at every corner
At times of vulnerability will they bear fruit
Break bonds and split family
Bring nations to their knees
Many question what went wrong
Clearly the answer lies in the definition
How we define, ultimately divides
Definition is our last line of Defense
Duale mahdi
Copyright © 2010
Agony is my Lullaby
Black and white, mixed to grey.
Good or bad, you choose your way.
Look back in time, have you seen agony?
Children burnt, punished for no felony.
Redemption: starvation, just for another day.
Sarcasm: food waste, watch our children play.
If life is making a living rather existing.
Why are they existing to die for a living?
Survival of the fittest is not a term in any text book.
Money makes the world go round, third world shook.
Africa, my cousin told me: "Agony is my Lullaby"
Poverty, my niece can't cry, her eyes are dry.
Pen 'N' Paper
Copyright © 2010
Good or bad, you choose your way.
Look back in time, have you seen agony?
Children burnt, punished for no felony.
Redemption: starvation, just for another day.
Sarcasm: food waste, watch our children play.
If life is making a living rather existing.
Why are they existing to die for a living?
Survival of the fittest is not a term in any text book.
Money makes the world go round, third world shook.
Africa, my cousin told me: "Agony is my Lullaby"
Poverty, my niece can't cry, her eyes are dry.
Pen 'N' Paper
Copyright © 2010
A poem for July 4th
Editor's note: If there is anything positive about being a refugee it has to be the fact that refugees embody great diversity, speak different languages, experience diverse cultures, etc. Somalis in particular amaze me with their ability to adopt two different cultures and intertwine them to make one.
I swear to forever
Protect you
Love you
Praise you
Wash you
Believe you
Defend you
Kiss you
Feel you
Wave you
Watch you
And Love you
The bright flag
Of the United States
With 13 red stripes
Thirteen white stripes
And the fifty stars
In the squared blue- shade
Be powerful forever
Be dominant forever
Never become vulnerable
To your weak enemies
Ameen.....
Faisal Abdi
Copyright © 2010
I swear to forever
Protect you
Love you
Praise you
Wash you
Believe you
Defend you
Kiss you
Feel you
Wave you
Watch you
And Love you
The bright flag
Of the United States
With 13 red stripes
Thirteen white stripes
And the fifty stars
In the squared blue- shade
Be powerful forever
Be dominant forever
Never become vulnerable
To your weak enemies
Ameen.....
Faisal Abdi
Copyright © 2010
Our beautiful children
Our beautiful children are crying
In Their hearts, wordlessly.
And in everything they try to teach them,
Is this a Simple Attempt of Manslaughter.
Our beautiful children are dying
Mentally, He is trying Raise a successful Daughter
The Pant line exposed and it pleases.
It makes me laugh as they say
Yore and yoyette is the mood
I bleed for them 'cause it
Has blinded them as they blend
Struggling with battered images
Badly in need in good repute
Their Characters deformed daily.
How can the blind lead
The blind except both fall?
Crashing on a daily bases
Tumbling and dashing hopes.
Crushed like butter in bread
Parental guidance placed
To question as these kids
Roam the streets and make
Bad company as the waste on
We can't afford folding our arms
As if nothing is wrong with these
Very young and talented kids
The keys to the future is held by the young
So we must prepare, Atrocious The want they’re future Hung
As They Equipped us, We must Concern our blunders
Our children are blessing, I call them World wonders.
The underage will rise from this “underworld”.
Bright kids, Bright future, and they want them Hurled?
I am son’in Every child in need As I try generate My breed
I am son’in every child even though they are not my seed. God-willing I will succeed,
In teaching That “Don’t kill, Please Read”
I am Son’in evry child so one day My people Don’t longer have to bleed.
I am son’in them Not for any such greed.
So we shall all proceed in not to mislead These Beautiful Children.
Please Help them as they will help you in You're Older days
World will end, But let them see Finer things.
Cause if not, Within there will be Diaspora flings.
Which we all tend to ignore, But Reality will hit you in the face
So my people, These are blessings we must Embrace.
Save our beautiful Children.
Mukhtar Mohamed
Copyright © 2010
In Their hearts, wordlessly.
And in everything they try to teach them,
Is this a Simple Attempt of Manslaughter.
Our beautiful children are dying
Mentally, He is trying Raise a successful Daughter
The Pant line exposed and it pleases.
It makes me laugh as they say
Yore and yoyette is the mood
I bleed for them 'cause it
Has blinded them as they blend
Struggling with battered images
Badly in need in good repute
Their Characters deformed daily.
How can the blind lead
The blind except both fall?
Crashing on a daily bases
Tumbling and dashing hopes.
Crushed like butter in bread
Parental guidance placed
To question as these kids
Roam the streets and make
Bad company as the waste on
We can't afford folding our arms
As if nothing is wrong with these
Very young and talented kids
The keys to the future is held by the young
So we must prepare, Atrocious The want they’re future Hung
As They Equipped us, We must Concern our blunders
Our children are blessing, I call them World wonders.
The underage will rise from this “underworld”.
Bright kids, Bright future, and they want them Hurled?
I am son’in Every child in need As I try generate My breed
I am son’in every child even though they are not my seed. God-willing I will succeed,
In teaching That “Don’t kill, Please Read”
I am Son’in evry child so one day My people Don’t longer have to bleed.
I am son’in them Not for any such greed.
So we shall all proceed in not to mislead These Beautiful Children.
Please Help them as they will help you in You're Older days
World will end, But let them see Finer things.
Cause if not, Within there will be Diaspora flings.
Which we all tend to ignore, But Reality will hit you in the face
So my people, These are blessings we must Embrace.
Save our beautiful Children.
Mukhtar Mohamed
Copyright © 2010
Saturday, July 3, 2010
P.S. I’m a criminal
Dear friend, I don’t know where to start
I’m on the run – I see them dart
at me. The reason... I’m losing hope. Please –
publish my story, so I can feel at ease.
Let them hear my journey to find my inner peace.
P.S. I’m a criminal
I’m a criminal – for being born
in South Africa – Apartheid has torn
my ancestors’ dignity for five and a half decades,
born in a ghetto, reality fades.
P.S. I’m a criminal
Birthright has been revoked at birth.
“Black Homelands” outside Johannesburg, why on earth
was I deported – I thought I was home in Africa
I was too young to understand said cousin Erica
P.S. I’m a criminal
I arrived in UK 28th January nineteen eighty five,
not as South African, but a Hutu refugee, to find a better life.
What a fateful day – “We are the World” – that was what some were singing.
Back in Africa, my family and friends were fighting and clinging
To “Life” – trying – To survive
P.S. I’m a criminal
“Life” is coated in Europe with a different meaning.
That was my first impression as a teenager, leading
to my second impression, this cancelled my very first.
Racial segregation, a matter of the past – social segregation, at its worst.
P.S. I’m a criminal
Welcome to London – Newham – found home, inner urban
my neighbours – Blacks – Muslims – Asians wearing turban.
Finding a way out of misery – while I watch TV?
Can’t believe what I see –
Mike Tyson K.O. – Nelson Mandela finally
Set free - 11th February nineteen ninety
Finding a way out of misery – while I watch TV!
P.S. I’m a criminal
Dear friend, I don’t justify
What I did, what I do – I don’t even try
To find an excuse why I am locked up here
If this is society’s justice, then I have nothing to fear.
P.S. I’m a criminal
Young – despaired – proud – idealistic – misled
Driven by my ambition, demons follow me to bed.
Everyone out there tries to make it – what is at stake?
A criminal mind built over the years – one opportunity to take.
Without any prospects I have nothing to lose,
ain’t it easy to judge while you’re sipping your booze?!
Meet me half way with a clear state of mind!
Sitting Hyde Park, discussing me & my own kind.
P.S. I’m a criminal
Dear friend, I don’t know how it came to this.
It went all too quick – either my fault or his.
Locked up, I see people from my neighborhood
Justice – since the days in “Black Homeland” – everything is good.
Born behind bars, ceased behind bars
It was a childhood dream – one of those red & fast cars
From Johannesburg to Cape Town
Free at home – not only The Crown
P.S. I’m a criminal
Sincere regards
Samuel – Speaking to the hearts
(Grievance in History is for remembrance - Not to point the finger at each other)
Pen 'N' Paper
Copyright © 2010
I’m on the run – I see them dart
at me. The reason... I’m losing hope. Please –
publish my story, so I can feel at ease.
Let them hear my journey to find my inner peace.
P.S. I’m a criminal
I’m a criminal – for being born
in South Africa – Apartheid has torn
my ancestors’ dignity for five and a half decades,
born in a ghetto, reality fades.
P.S. I’m a criminal
Birthright has been revoked at birth.
“Black Homelands” outside Johannesburg, why on earth
was I deported – I thought I was home in Africa
I was too young to understand said cousin Erica
P.S. I’m a criminal
I arrived in UK 28th January nineteen eighty five,
not as South African, but a Hutu refugee, to find a better life.
What a fateful day – “We are the World” – that was what some were singing.
Back in Africa, my family and friends were fighting and clinging
To “Life” – trying – To survive
P.S. I’m a criminal
“Life” is coated in Europe with a different meaning.
That was my first impression as a teenager, leading
to my second impression, this cancelled my very first.
Racial segregation, a matter of the past – social segregation, at its worst.
P.S. I’m a criminal
Welcome to London – Newham – found home, inner urban
my neighbours – Blacks – Muslims – Asians wearing turban.
Finding a way out of misery – while I watch TV?
Can’t believe what I see –
Mike Tyson K.O. – Nelson Mandela finally
Set free - 11th February nineteen ninety
Finding a way out of misery – while I watch TV!
P.S. I’m a criminal
Dear friend, I don’t justify
What I did, what I do – I don’t even try
To find an excuse why I am locked up here
If this is society’s justice, then I have nothing to fear.
P.S. I’m a criminal
Young – despaired – proud – idealistic – misled
Driven by my ambition, demons follow me to bed.
Everyone out there tries to make it – what is at stake?
A criminal mind built over the years – one opportunity to take.
Without any prospects I have nothing to lose,
ain’t it easy to judge while you’re sipping your booze?!
Meet me half way with a clear state of mind!
Sitting Hyde Park, discussing me & my own kind.
P.S. I’m a criminal
Dear friend, I don’t know how it came to this.
It went all too quick – either my fault or his.
Locked up, I see people from my neighborhood
Justice – since the days in “Black Homeland” – everything is good.
Born behind bars, ceased behind bars
It was a childhood dream – one of those red & fast cars
From Johannesburg to Cape Town
Free at home – not only The Crown
P.S. I’m a criminal
Sincere regards
Samuel – Speaking to the hearts
(Grievance in History is for remembrance - Not to point the finger at each other)
Pen 'N' Paper
Copyright © 2010
Suffocated
Every sight and sound
That I see and hear
From corner to corner
Across airwaves and print outs of America
All I see is
Agents of sales
Capital flow
Hard hitters
Owners of news
Makers of trend
Fixed reality
Larger than life
Allurement for more
At the price of debt
All I hear is
Pitch sales
The calls of capitalism
Accumulation to purchase
For more products
One time only deals
Never to be seen again
Enough, is enough
I have ton of junks
Of no use
Yet again
I keep piling for some more
I want to go green
But whom I am to lie
I am no purist
Same ol’ tactics
None changed
After all this time
Since from little age
Everything is the same
Only turning for worse
Sadiiq Ashuhle
Copyright © 2010
This will be part of 'Individuality: Voices and Struggles ' chapter.
That I see and hear
From corner to corner
Across airwaves and print outs of America
All I see is
Agents of sales
Capital flow
Hard hitters
Owners of news
Makers of trend
Fixed reality
Larger than life
Allurement for more
At the price of debt
All I hear is
Pitch sales
The calls of capitalism
Accumulation to purchase
For more products
One time only deals
Never to be seen again
Enough, is enough
I have ton of junks
Of no use
Yet again
I keep piling for some more
I want to go green
But whom I am to lie
I am no purist
Same ol’ tactics
None changed
After all this time
Since from little age
Everything is the same
Only turning for worse
Sadiiq Ashuhle
Copyright © 2010
This will be part of 'Individuality: Voices and Struggles ' chapter.
{Group poem 10 Part 3} Somalia's 50th Independence Day
That’s you and me…
Not a prisoner in an open sea…
Since the day we’ve been born and we still live in this torn…
We gave up our Home for disaster’s to perform…
We’ve decided to leave and walk to another land…
We’ve grabbed and seeked for a foreign hand…
More then 20 years and still we’re not relieved…
We wake up everyday with headlines received…
Blood spilled around caused by bullets which are still refilled…
Pictures of terror, victims and orphans beside borders build…
We’re just like them in pain and harm ...
Imagine that victim who lost his arm..
We keep complaining about nothing..
While they need something ...
Something that relieves them from pain and tense..
They seek rest, peace and difference ...
Safety allows it ....
Faith represents it ...
Nobody is welcome in another ground...
So why acting like you ‘re highly crowned...
You will always remain what you are ...
Even if your miles away far..
Whatever is happening or whatever is done..
If you keep standing ..You will see none..
They will never stop ...
Fair will never end and guns will never drop..
Time is running fast ..
Every second counts Future and has left Past..
A new generation...
That’s you and me...
Not prisoners in their own red sea...
Don't wait for conflicts to end...
Keep searching for Hope to land...
Discuss with your neighbour or your friend..
Solutions will never come unless you think right for it...
Take your chances to submit...
We hear lost, violence or silent cry...
What we all do is to listen to how those dye..
A new generation...
That is you and me...
Not a prisoner in a vanished sea...
You have the strength...the ability...
Give answers with all the possibility...
Gather your mother, your aunt or people from another clan...
Change opens in a small box with a plan...
We just need to show it can...
Throw out your voice and spit out those rocks...
Ever since we’ve born it's all about who and that...
I'm not responsible for your faults or who was bad..
I have studied and that says enough...
I'll use it for a take off...
Even how simple it is ...
As long as I am doing something we miss...
It will be useful for Change to succeed ...
And for a Nation to complete...
A new generation ...
That's you and me...
Not the prisoners in that bloody sea...
Now we want every Youth to repeat…
Hooyo I’ll make you proud…
Home I’ll speak out loud …
Children forget our doubt…
I don’t care anymore who’s got killed or who respond..
Whether it’s my uncle ,my brother or my aunt..
The mission is where do I stand and how will I pronounce…
That’s the way the Horn of Africa will be World-wide crowned…
There is no more view left to be right-back bounced…
It’s up to me to let it out and announce..
And I’m speaking to all Youth around…
Across all borders even back Home on each ground…
We will be One voice, on One mission ready to be found…
I’ll carry on the name Somali with a crown…
The new generation …
That’s who we are …
The white prisoners in the blue sea…
So start and please let it be …
Yassie
Copyright © 2010
p.s. I'm just a dreamer in all those conflicts while some think we aint got no hope for the Horn of Africa ...I wish and pray all Somali-youth around the world understand that not only you are hurt but the one who's in all that's happening is counting on "The new generation" just like 50 years ago Heroes who stood up for our rights ......YOUTH IS THE SOLUTION BUT PLEASE GUIDE INSTEAD OFF IGNORING
I believe in HOPE in the neariest future ...if you don't then let me do my thing as a true Somali
Not a prisoner in an open sea…
Since the day we’ve been born and we still live in this torn…
We gave up our Home for disaster’s to perform…
We’ve decided to leave and walk to another land…
We’ve grabbed and seeked for a foreign hand…
More then 20 years and still we’re not relieved…
We wake up everyday with headlines received…
Blood spilled around caused by bullets which are still refilled…
Pictures of terror, victims and orphans beside borders build…
We’re just like them in pain and harm ...
Imagine that victim who lost his arm..
We keep complaining about nothing..
While they need something ...
Something that relieves them from pain and tense..
They seek rest, peace and difference ...
Safety allows it ....
Faith represents it ...
Nobody is welcome in another ground...
So why acting like you ‘re highly crowned...
You will always remain what you are ...
Even if your miles away far..
Whatever is happening or whatever is done..
If you keep standing ..You will see none..
They will never stop ...
Fair will never end and guns will never drop..
Time is running fast ..
Every second counts Future and has left Past..
A new generation...
That’s you and me...
Not prisoners in their own red sea...
Don't wait for conflicts to end...
Keep searching for Hope to land...
Discuss with your neighbour or your friend..
Solutions will never come unless you think right for it...
Take your chances to submit...
We hear lost, violence or silent cry...
What we all do is to listen to how those dye..
A new generation...
That is you and me...
Not a prisoner in a vanished sea...
You have the strength...the ability...
Give answers with all the possibility...
Gather your mother, your aunt or people from another clan...
Change opens in a small box with a plan...
We just need to show it can...
Throw out your voice and spit out those rocks...
Ever since we’ve born it's all about who and that...
I'm not responsible for your faults or who was bad..
I have studied and that says enough...
I'll use it for a take off...
Even how simple it is ...
As long as I am doing something we miss...
It will be useful for Change to succeed ...
And for a Nation to complete...
A new generation ...
That's you and me...
Not the prisoners in that bloody sea...
Now we want every Youth to repeat…
Hooyo I’ll make you proud…
Home I’ll speak out loud …
Children forget our doubt…
I don’t care anymore who’s got killed or who respond..
Whether it’s my uncle ,my brother or my aunt..
The mission is where do I stand and how will I pronounce…
That’s the way the Horn of Africa will be World-wide crowned…
There is no more view left to be right-back bounced…
It’s up to me to let it out and announce..
And I’m speaking to all Youth around…
Across all borders even back Home on each ground…
We will be One voice, on One mission ready to be found…
I’ll carry on the name Somali with a crown…
The new generation …
That’s who we are …
The white prisoners in the blue sea…
So start and please let it be …
Yassie
Copyright © 2010
p.s. I'm just a dreamer in all those conflicts while some think we aint got no hope for the Horn of Africa ...I wish and pray all Somali-youth around the world understand that not only you are hurt but the one who's in all that's happening is counting on "The new generation" just like 50 years ago Heroes who stood up for our rights ......YOUTH IS THE SOLUTION BUT PLEASE GUIDE INSTEAD OFF IGNORING
I believe in HOPE in the neariest future ...if you don't then let me do my thing as a true Somali
{Group poem 10 Part 3} Somalia's 50th Independence Day
20 years
we shed so many tears
20 years
we shared so many fears
20 years
tell me about your life
20 years
count your blessings, I know it has been trife
20 years
we all had so many losses
20 years
`ninety-one, remember how the sea hisses and tosses
20 years
we left everything behind
20 years
friends, family, all my own kind
20 years
we had the same living
20 years
in different places, but the same upbringing
20 years
my prayers, are with the old generation
20 years
they won`t forgive! They can`t forget! Their homelands fascination!
20 years
my prayers, are with the young generation
20 years
to wake up and realise Somalia`s our destination
20 years
let`s not take those years times two
20 years
brothers and sisters, it`s all about you
20 years
it`s time to understand
20 years
we share the same land
20 years
we share the same religion
20 years
we share the same tradition
20 years
it`s time to understand
20 years
it`s time to hold, each others hand
Now, Wave your flag! Don't feel ashamed.
History is History, we can't be blamed!
Keep your head up and take the lead.
The fruits of tomorrow you want to reap,
The effort of today you need to seed.
Show me your smile, dreamer, then go to sleep.
Pen 'N' Paper
Copyright 2010
we shed so many tears
20 years
we shared so many fears
20 years
tell me about your life
20 years
count your blessings, I know it has been trife
20 years
we all had so many losses
20 years
`ninety-one, remember how the sea hisses and tosses
20 years
we left everything behind
20 years
friends, family, all my own kind
20 years
we had the same living
20 years
in different places, but the same upbringing
20 years
my prayers, are with the old generation
20 years
they won`t forgive! They can`t forget! Their homelands fascination!
20 years
my prayers, are with the young generation
20 years
to wake up and realise Somalia`s our destination
20 years
let`s not take those years times two
20 years
brothers and sisters, it`s all about you
20 years
it`s time to understand
20 years
we share the same land
20 years
we share the same religion
20 years
we share the same tradition
20 years
it`s time to understand
20 years
it`s time to hold, each others hand
Now, Wave your flag! Don't feel ashamed.
History is History, we can't be blamed!
Keep your head up and take the lead.
The fruits of tomorrow you want to reap,
The effort of today you need to seed.
Show me your smile, dreamer, then go to sleep.
Pen 'N' Paper
Copyright 2010
Group poem 10: Somalia's 50th Independence Day
The desire is stronger than you think
Through everything, even when I believe
The grieving pen I write with ink
Trying with words my feelings heave
Sometimes I just want to run away
From misery, sorrow and pain
Like I ended up in the highway
That keeps me hard in a chain
A nation which today can’t be honored
People with an expressionless face
My pride, they long ago conquered
A nightmare that I must now erase
Historical it was 50 years ago
The flag the people were waving
Hope I must not lose, it's all I know
A nation that is now slowly burning
If my mind is thinking, it’s enough
But the heart keeps telling, don’t give up
I personally have to be tough
Get my people to stand up
You can’t find no hiding place
Because the heart can beat the hate
Something we all should embrace
A light that can no longer wait
Zana Haji Hashi
Copyright 2010
Through everything, even when I believe
The grieving pen I write with ink
Trying with words my feelings heave
Sometimes I just want to run away
From misery, sorrow and pain
Like I ended up in the highway
That keeps me hard in a chain
A nation which today can’t be honored
People with an expressionless face
My pride, they long ago conquered
A nightmare that I must now erase
Historical it was 50 years ago
The flag the people were waving
Hope I must not lose, it's all I know
A nation that is now slowly burning
If my mind is thinking, it’s enough
But the heart keeps telling, don’t give up
I personally have to be tough
Get my people to stand up
You can’t find no hiding place
Because the heart can beat the hate
Something we all should embrace
A light that can no longer wait
Zana Haji Hashi
Copyright 2010
Group poem 10: Somalia's 50th Independence Day
Raise the single star flag and show your pride, shout your independence. Celebrate a worthless observance, yet freedom is nothing more than pretence. The land of blood and dust, as the toxic waste barrels continue to rust, and the people hold on to the life line of foreign assistance.
Dance and party, rejoice at the drums you so find heavenly, I guaranty you thousands of your kin lay in darkness and stomachs ever hungry.
Forgive me if I see no sense or reason, maybe I can’t exalt in oblivion, as my land amounts to nothing close to liberty, if independence is sovereignty, then as my people die I remain in captivity.
Hope is something amazing, for as long as you draw breath, it sips slowly to your body from your chest, but what is hope when a child suckles nothing from his mother’s breast.
No I see no independence, my vision sees a generation of children born into a savage and merciless existence, while we dance to a low budget charade, no of such a meaningless gathering I am surely afraid.
Were is the autonomy when I am robed of my life and my lands precious property, where is the self-sufficiency when I can no longer reap fish from my sea, questions that should weigh heavy on you and me.
So before we dress in lavish attire, and in luxury settings gather, let us ask ourselves, how independent would we feel in the death fields of Somalia.
Hamza Egal
Copyright ©2010
Dance and party, rejoice at the drums you so find heavenly, I guaranty you thousands of your kin lay in darkness and stomachs ever hungry.
Forgive me if I see no sense or reason, maybe I can’t exalt in oblivion, as my land amounts to nothing close to liberty, if independence is sovereignty, then as my people die I remain in captivity.
Hope is something amazing, for as long as you draw breath, it sips slowly to your body from your chest, but what is hope when a child suckles nothing from his mother’s breast.
No I see no independence, my vision sees a generation of children born into a savage and merciless existence, while we dance to a low budget charade, no of such a meaningless gathering I am surely afraid.
Were is the autonomy when I am robed of my life and my lands precious property, where is the self-sufficiency when I can no longer reap fish from my sea, questions that should weigh heavy on you and me.
So before we dress in lavish attire, and in luxury settings gather, let us ask ourselves, how independent would we feel in the death fields of Somalia.
Hamza Egal
Copyright ©2010
Group poem 10: Somalia's 50th Independence Day
The finest day has arrived
For the people of Soomaal
Our celebrated independence day
In which we happily celebrate
So please accept my request
To gather on the streets
To make the longest lines,
All facing Allah with gratitude
For I now want you to give
To hold your warm hands
Facing down with closed eyes
Sensing secure and surrounded
Feeling the blood of my brothers
Sensing the blood of my sisters
To feel I’m protected.
To feel I’m loved.
To heed in I am cared.
To a nation, people, and place
Let’s us straight up our chins
Opening our innocent mouths wide
Singing our national anthem
Till our throats desiccated
Till emotions run too high
Tears rolling down the cheeks
To pray and heal our hearts
Hugging and helping each other.
O' you my honorable youth
Hoping we make a difference.
Let's pray for our country
Let's pray for our leaders
To understand and reconcile
To sign accords of peace
The long waited unification
Let’s ask our Almighty
To forgive and bless us
Now let’s read few verses
Including the surah, Fati'ah
Acknowledging the power
Of our feeder and forgiver
And ask for help and bless
He so may bless Somalia
With peace and tranquility
Faisal Abdi
Copyright © 2010
For the people of Soomaal
Our celebrated independence day
In which we happily celebrate
So please accept my request
To gather on the streets
To make the longest lines,
All facing Allah with gratitude
For I now want you to give
To hold your warm hands
Facing down with closed eyes
Sensing secure and surrounded
Feeling the blood of my brothers
Sensing the blood of my sisters
To feel I’m protected.
To feel I’m loved.
To heed in I am cared.
To a nation, people, and place
Let’s us straight up our chins
Opening our innocent mouths wide
Singing our national anthem
Till our throats desiccated
Till emotions run too high
Tears rolling down the cheeks
To pray and heal our hearts
Hugging and helping each other.
O' you my honorable youth
Hoping we make a difference.
Let's pray for our country
Let's pray for our leaders
To understand and reconcile
To sign accords of peace
The long waited unification
Let’s ask our Almighty
To forgive and bless us
Now let’s read few verses
Including the surah, Fati'ah
Acknowledging the power
Of our feeder and forgiver
And ask for help and bless
He so may bless Somalia
With peace and tranquility
Faisal Abdi
Copyright © 2010
Mumbai
My heart thinks of you everyday and literally weeps because of the memories of yesterday...
Mumbai - Oh Mumbai the place you hold in my heart is like no other.
The lessons you have taught me shall forever be an imprint in my heart...
The beauty you represent is profound...
The struggles you endured great...
The attacks cruel...
The natural disasters almost crippled you...
But each time you came back even stronger and leaving people in awe...
Your strength is empowering...
You are impeccable..
You are Mumbai - my love.
You embody great diversity from Mohammed Ali Road to Dadar to Santa Cruz to Colaba all the way to Andheri...
The excitement that were present in Chowpatty and Juhu beach are like no other...
And even though the original Taj Mahal is in Agra - the vibrant beauty of Taj hotel cannot be overlooked...
And although the Gate way of India is in the capital - it is the Gate of India in Colaba that truly remains the gate way to India for me.
Even though it is the West that is credited for being ALL THAT - YOU are ALL THAT and MORE for me...And as I write this while sitting in States - I fondly look forward to day of our reunion.
And, my beloved Mumbai you remain home only second to the land of my forefathers (Somalia).
Mumbai ♥
-Halima Ahmed
Copyright © 2010
Mumbai - Oh Mumbai the place you hold in my heart is like no other.
The lessons you have taught me shall forever be an imprint in my heart...
The beauty you represent is profound...
The struggles you endured great...
The attacks cruel...
The natural disasters almost crippled you...
But each time you came back even stronger and leaving people in awe...
Your strength is empowering...
You are impeccable..
You are Mumbai - my love.
You embody great diversity from Mohammed Ali Road to Dadar to Santa Cruz to Colaba all the way to Andheri...
The excitement that were present in Chowpatty and Juhu beach are like no other...
And even though the original Taj Mahal is in Agra - the vibrant beauty of Taj hotel cannot be overlooked...
And although the Gate way of India is in the capital - it is the Gate of India in Colaba that truly remains the gate way to India for me.
Even though it is the West that is credited for being ALL THAT - YOU are ALL THAT and MORE for me...And as I write this while sitting in States - I fondly look forward to day of our reunion.
And, my beloved Mumbai you remain home only second to the land of my forefathers (Somalia).
Mumbai ♥
-Halima Ahmed
Copyright © 2010
LOOK!
Look! Their beard is long!
But their act is wrong!
Teaching youth to get blown!
While they are to get grown!
Look! They silence the press!
For something that is less!
Than what they reserve!
On the way to serve!
Excavating the grave!
Without being brave!
Talking ill of it and rave!
As if they are naive!
Why not to ruminate?
Or deeply cogitate?
On how Islam to delineate!
And peacefully educate!
Do they want to rule?
And at once to fool?
Absence of calm and cool!
In blood like swimming-pool!
Do they think they are rock?
Fearing of no one's knock?
Showing off and mock!
On the move to lock!
Who is fighting who?
Who is chasing who?
Who is erring who?
Without knowing who!
Is aiming to attack!
Or ready to back?
Say NAY to kill!
Or pay to nil!
Why not to sit?
Sit and discuss?
Discuss to suss?
In peace to pass?
Mohamed Abdikaadir Daud (Stanza)
Copyright © 2010
But their act is wrong!
Teaching youth to get blown!
While they are to get grown!
Look! They silence the press!
For something that is less!
Than what they reserve!
On the way to serve!
Excavating the grave!
Without being brave!
Talking ill of it and rave!
As if they are naive!
Why not to ruminate?
Or deeply cogitate?
On how Islam to delineate!
And peacefully educate!
Do they want to rule?
And at once to fool?
Absence of calm and cool!
In blood like swimming-pool!
Do they think they are rock?
Fearing of no one's knock?
Showing off and mock!
On the move to lock!
Who is fighting who?
Who is chasing who?
Who is erring who?
Without knowing who!
Is aiming to attack!
Or ready to back?
Say NAY to kill!
Or pay to nil!
Why not to sit?
Sit and discuss?
Discuss to suss?
In peace to pass?
Mohamed Abdikaadir Daud (Stanza)
Copyright © 2010
If not us then who will?
Is it over?
Or would it be like this forever
I’m tired of waiting
And it’s like I’m gonna live as refuge for ever
The pain grows deeper
And it’s adding up whereever
There is no favour done for a brother
Click-clack and his brain is out
And it is shame
That it’s not drug that is driving us crazy
We are not that much drinkers
And we are not dope farmers
So why is this wife crying?
Coz she just said goodbye to her guy
It real hurts coz she though one day they would fly
But bullets flew and he is hit without reason
I look up to the sky
And ask Allah for strength
Because I’m stressed
I want an access to the truth
Behind this mess
I want success in life
And see my country in peace again
I wanna sleep peacefully
In my night dress
But I feel like we careless
And this blood left most of us aimless
Its blindness
Whenever I see the news on TV It leaves me breathless
I got weak and my body feels boneless
But I still got braveness
To claim I’m from land of poets
We all need peace
But we have to come together
Not at graves but everywhere we can
We the youth of Somalia
And the future of tomorrow
If we don’t stand hand to hand
To rebuild home
Then who will?
Poet of The Streetz (P.o.s)
Copyright © 2010
Or would it be like this forever
I’m tired of waiting
And it’s like I’m gonna live as refuge for ever
The pain grows deeper
And it’s adding up whereever
There is no favour done for a brother
Click-clack and his brain is out
And it is shame
That it’s not drug that is driving us crazy
We are not that much drinkers
And we are not dope farmers
So why is this wife crying?
Coz she just said goodbye to her guy
It real hurts coz she though one day they would fly
But bullets flew and he is hit without reason
I look up to the sky
And ask Allah for strength
Because I’m stressed
I want an access to the truth
Behind this mess
I want success in life
And see my country in peace again
I wanna sleep peacefully
In my night dress
But I feel like we careless
And this blood left most of us aimless
Its blindness
Whenever I see the news on TV It leaves me breathless
I got weak and my body feels boneless
But I still got braveness
To claim I’m from land of poets
We all need peace
But we have to come together
Not at graves but everywhere we can
We the youth of Somalia
And the future of tomorrow
If we don’t stand hand to hand
To rebuild home
Then who will?
Poet of The Streetz (P.o.s)
Copyright © 2010
Are we too weak to take a stand?
This poem is written by a young Somali girl currently residing in the U.K - she wishes to remain anonymous. InshAllah any poem from her will be posted under the name "The Anonymous teenager."
Why don't they just think?
Instead of being lazy,
laying back while they watch their mums cry out her frustration like crazy,
Living for the impression they make on others,
when there are people out there fighting for the life of their sister and brothers,
If they would live like life is suppose to be,
Live with faith and a strong reality,
Knowing the truth that if they just stand tall,
The foundation they stand on, will never fall,
How come our little sisters are crying?
How come so many of our people are dying?
Are we too weak to take a stand,
or are we too ignorant to care about this far-away land,
there are too much lies, too much show,
its no wonder, the people around us might never know,
our people are crying, starving and dying,
YOU gotta open your eyes, no more denying
turning your apathy into hearing, listen to the sounds of the needy,
turn your back to the greedy, and smile even when its not easy,
because no matter how bad things might seem,
no matter if you just want to believe its a bad dream,
fight for whats real with your heart,
and inshallah,
you'll get you're reward the one and only god.
The Anonymous teenager
Copyright © 2010
Why don't they just think?
Instead of being lazy,
laying back while they watch their mums cry out her frustration like crazy,
Living for the impression they make on others,
when there are people out there fighting for the life of their sister and brothers,
If they would live like life is suppose to be,
Live with faith and a strong reality,
Knowing the truth that if they just stand tall,
The foundation they stand on, will never fall,
How come our little sisters are crying?
How come so many of our people are dying?
Are we too weak to take a stand,
or are we too ignorant to care about this far-away land,
there are too much lies, too much show,
its no wonder, the people around us might never know,
our people are crying, starving and dying,
YOU gotta open your eyes, no more denying
turning your apathy into hearing, listen to the sounds of the needy,
turn your back to the greedy, and smile even when its not easy,
because no matter how bad things might seem,
no matter if you just want to believe its a bad dream,
fight for whats real with your heart,
and inshallah,
you'll get you're reward the one and only god.
The Anonymous teenager
Copyright © 2010
INNER STRENGTH
As strong as a bullet that kills, the foundation that holds me still
the will that keeps me drivin forward, after every crash on a terrain hill
Enemies, unfortunate difficulties, the ambition of an Aries
to withstand adversity, my inner strength has the energy to battle 100 adversaries
and still walk and breathe, as if I drank the purest water God had offer me
Water from the God, strong mentality from my moms
strivin through the struggle, the heart of a Jihad
I feel like I'm built wit armor, surroundin my chest
bullet proof vest, titanium complex, the physique of a possessed T-Rex
This facade of appearances, shields the inner strength that was blessed within
a gift that took time to developed, trainin and exercisin the mind to win
Inner strength is a powerful inner power, that propels towards my achievements
the right components, the perfect movements, followed by my perseverance
Its manifested in my soul, this power gives me the ability to achieve any life goals
it grows each and everyday like a seed planted in a dirt hole
the sun is the light that keeps me seein, the water is the nourishment that keeps me growin
She said its the strength u need to be alive, so I pray
its the strength that keeps flowin through my blood, the reason why I survive everyday
Its my inner strength.
Mukhtar Mohamed
Copyright © 2010
the will that keeps me drivin forward, after every crash on a terrain hill
Enemies, unfortunate difficulties, the ambition of an Aries
to withstand adversity, my inner strength has the energy to battle 100 adversaries
and still walk and breathe, as if I drank the purest water God had offer me
Water from the God, strong mentality from my moms
strivin through the struggle, the heart of a Jihad
I feel like I'm built wit armor, surroundin my chest
bullet proof vest, titanium complex, the physique of a possessed T-Rex
This facade of appearances, shields the inner strength that was blessed within
a gift that took time to developed, trainin and exercisin the mind to win
Inner strength is a powerful inner power, that propels towards my achievements
the right components, the perfect movements, followed by my perseverance
Its manifested in my soul, this power gives me the ability to achieve any life goals
it grows each and everyday like a seed planted in a dirt hole
the sun is the light that keeps me seein, the water is the nourishment that keeps me growin
She said its the strength u need to be alive, so I pray
its the strength that keeps flowin through my blood, the reason why I survive everyday
Its my inner strength.
Mukhtar Mohamed
Copyright © 2010
Void in my heart
Years ago we rejoiced their union
Their union meant our togetherness
A decade ago when they decided to split
We departed…
Together they came in a blissful union, without our approval.
Together they decided to split and depart, without our concern
They made the decision to tie our bonds together…
And also break it…eventually
We were just a paper
For their story to be written in
But why did they have to use an ink so inerasable
One that burdens the heart time and again
One that has left a void in my heart…
One that has caused a decade to pass by without me seeing my little brothers..
Often I wonder if my brothers are aware of the sister they have in me…
Are they aware of the many times I have longed to see them grow into fine young men that they are today…
Are they aware of my unconditional love towards them…
Are they aware of the void I carry in my heart because of their absence from my life..
Are they?
I led an incomplete life…
An incomplete journey…
An in co mp
…
Halima Ahmed
Copyright © 2010
Their union meant our togetherness
A decade ago when they decided to split
We departed…
Together they came in a blissful union, without our approval.
Together they decided to split and depart, without our concern
They made the decision to tie our bonds together…
And also break it…eventually
We were just a paper
For their story to be written in
But why did they have to use an ink so inerasable
One that burdens the heart time and again
One that has left a void in my heart…
One that has caused a decade to pass by without me seeing my little brothers..
Often I wonder if my brothers are aware of the sister they have in me…
Are they aware of the many times I have longed to see them grow into fine young men that they are today…
Are they aware of my unconditional love towards them…
Are they aware of the void I carry in my heart because of their absence from my life..
Are they?
I led an incomplete life…
An incomplete journey…
An in co mp
…
Halima Ahmed
Copyright © 2010
IF and If...
If I fight you for a cause,
Do you think I will lose?
If you kill me for a gain,
Can you survive without pain?
If you shed my blood,
Will I miss all a lad?
If you see yourself heavy-weight,
Alas! In thinking you are late!
If you hate me for an aim,
Lurking mind, can you claim?
If you make me crestfallen,
Won't peace be stolen?
If both of us don't think well,
Are we going to meet in hell?
If millions disperse and die,
Why each of us to hide and lie?
If all our guns cry,
Alas! Why to buy?
If you hit me with stone,
In ache will I be alone?
If you shoot me with gun,
Will I fear of you and run?
If you chase me today,
Will you not fall my prey?
If two of us slay,
Won't war be May to May?
If you dictate to me,
Will I not bite you like bee?
If you are so malevolent,
Why am I to be benevolent?
If life seems so,
No way to go!
Then, let us ride back!
And see what we lack!
Stop now to whack!
And stitch the crack!
In peace then discuss!
Without maiming lass!
Mohamed Abdikaadir Daud (Stanza)
Copyright © 201
Do you think I will lose?
If you kill me for a gain,
Can you survive without pain?
If you shed my blood,
Will I miss all a lad?
If you see yourself heavy-weight,
Alas! In thinking you are late!
If you hate me for an aim,
Lurking mind, can you claim?
If you make me crestfallen,
Won't peace be stolen?
If both of us don't think well,
Are we going to meet in hell?
If millions disperse and die,
Why each of us to hide and lie?
If all our guns cry,
Alas! Why to buy?
If you hit me with stone,
In ache will I be alone?
If you shoot me with gun,
Will I fear of you and run?
If you chase me today,
Will you not fall my prey?
If two of us slay,
Won't war be May to May?
If you dictate to me,
Will I not bite you like bee?
If you are so malevolent,
Why am I to be benevolent?
If life seems so,
No way to go!
Then, let us ride back!
And see what we lack!
Stop now to whack!
And stitch the crack!
In peace then discuss!
Without maiming lass!
Mohamed Abdikaadir Daud (Stanza)
Copyright © 201
Child soldier.
My thoughts wonder to things we may not wish to know.
If you tender to your gardens, the seeds in good health grow.
Then you can sit back and enjoy the fruits that you sow.
But development for mass benefit in Africa is more then slow.
Left back in time, cloaked in darkness, so greed is the only glow.
A disease, that resides in the human system in need of vaccination.
An undiagnosed cancer, that eats away at my beloved nation.
A child that barely started living, to load the gun is the only education.
Stolen, raped and beaten, crying in the shadows, comforted by starvation.
And if they survive the induction, the front line is the next mission.
Sent in first by the cowards into enemy lines as creeping spies.
No emotions left in that little casing, tears no longer roll down these eyes.
No home left behind, headed in circles all the time, blank gaze of the blind.
Maybe it would have been a blessing not to see, the slaughter of father.
Or the unthinkable way they defiled and mutilate my beautiful mother.
Now I am the one with power, I am the reason why people run for cover.
This is the only existence I know; it would be unreal to imagine another.
Whether its blood diamonds I gather, or a sex slave for the soldier’s pleasure.
This is my world, bullets and blood as I suffer; those I come across pay the piper.
Hamza Egal
Copyright ©2010
If you tender to your gardens, the seeds in good health grow.
Then you can sit back and enjoy the fruits that you sow.
But development for mass benefit in Africa is more then slow.
Left back in time, cloaked in darkness, so greed is the only glow.
A disease, that resides in the human system in need of vaccination.
An undiagnosed cancer, that eats away at my beloved nation.
A child that barely started living, to load the gun is the only education.
Stolen, raped and beaten, crying in the shadows, comforted by starvation.
And if they survive the induction, the front line is the next mission.
Sent in first by the cowards into enemy lines as creeping spies.
No emotions left in that little casing, tears no longer roll down these eyes.
No home left behind, headed in circles all the time, blank gaze of the blind.
Maybe it would have been a blessing not to see, the slaughter of father.
Or the unthinkable way they defiled and mutilate my beautiful mother.
Now I am the one with power, I am the reason why people run for cover.
This is the only existence I know; it would be unreal to imagine another.
Whether its blood diamonds I gather, or a sex slave for the soldier’s pleasure.
This is my world, bullets and blood as I suffer; those I come across pay the piper.
Hamza Egal
Copyright ©2010
Our tears together
days are just as gloomy
if only you knew me
my thoughts are of the darkness
I believed once in life, happiness would be there to guide
so I now believe theres no such thing
may the bee's fly high cos I can feel the stinging heating its way of the reddest blood
the skies arent as pleasing the colour of grey
its been raining for days, but its okay
so atleast everyone gets to have a bad day
I'm eating of their pain
I know how you feel I'm not putting myself in your shoes
cos I am you, clearly listening to your words
and making your problem as mines
its a winding day, so lets fly kites let it go
and let the message pass on, I written a note to our lord
but maybe a angle would pass it to God
he can read how we all weep and how we all cant sleep
but then again you never listened when I said to make a pray
so I'm taking the lights out, that way my tears aren't noticeable
do you know how I feel, alone, my heart feels cold
the days are getting old seeing the green grass turning into mold
so I keep remembering the bad days the memories
finding it hard to fold and to put it away
was I always like this sad
have I confused sadness as the living of life
hold me tight as the night will always be the night
knowing we understand this misery
hold me tight as the kiss will always be the sweetest kiss
our tears together my dear as we cry praying for a different change.
Idil Ahmed Mahamed
Copyright © 2010
if only you knew me
my thoughts are of the darkness
I believed once in life, happiness would be there to guide
so I now believe theres no such thing
may the bee's fly high cos I can feel the stinging heating its way of the reddest blood
the skies arent as pleasing the colour of grey
its been raining for days, but its okay
so atleast everyone gets to have a bad day
I'm eating of their pain
I know how you feel I'm not putting myself in your shoes
cos I am you, clearly listening to your words
and making your problem as mines
its a winding day, so lets fly kites let it go
and let the message pass on, I written a note to our lord
but maybe a angle would pass it to God
he can read how we all weep and how we all cant sleep
but then again you never listened when I said to make a pray
so I'm taking the lights out, that way my tears aren't noticeable
do you know how I feel, alone, my heart feels cold
the days are getting old seeing the green grass turning into mold
so I keep remembering the bad days the memories
finding it hard to fold and to put it away
was I always like this sad
have I confused sadness as the living of life
hold me tight as the night will always be the night
knowing we understand this misery
hold me tight as the kiss will always be the sweetest kiss
our tears together my dear as we cry praying for a different change.
Idil Ahmed Mahamed
Copyright © 2010
Somalia- The Nation of Poets {Group poem 9 Part 3} Somali Youth - "Is this what it means to be a Youth?"
Youthful life is overated, "You are too young to Perish"
Universal belief, But a nickel for this saying albeit Garish
Some Yungins deeply lost, Verily not a sight to Cherish.
What is being a Youth?
Parties, unlimited fun,drinking, be hip, alotta Ma'siya to impress your Peers?
And repent Later?
Or Is it Ibaadah, charity, having Taqwa & be educated enough to score MashaAllah Cheers?
And STILL abide by the laws of your Creator?
Hijaab becomes a strange elf language to the sisters, "Ancient" is the word
or is it outdated? It is just a piece of cloth comes the response....
Brothers on the roll, Guns become Roses. Absurdity at its peak
Is this the Bloom of Youth? Is this what it means to be a Youth?
Tell you what..Dear Youth, In that moment of Truth
In that shrieking moment of torment, You won't find besties Muna or Ruth
Before that inmost soul of human fear and agony, Before it fills the air..
Will you have worked for the hereafter aye Youth?
Get Told.
'Afore my ink pen 'dries', Here's a Salute
To the youth keeping it Deenly, I applaud their credible Repute.
MashaAllah....Alhamdullilah.
May Allah (swt) Guide us ALL to the right path. Amiin.
One love :)
Ilhan Bashir
Copyright 2010.
Universal belief, But a nickel for this saying albeit Garish
Some Yungins deeply lost, Verily not a sight to Cherish.
What is being a Youth?
Parties, unlimited fun,drinking, be hip, alotta Ma'siya to impress your Peers?
And repent Later?
Or Is it Ibaadah, charity, having Taqwa & be educated enough to score MashaAllah Cheers?
And STILL abide by the laws of your Creator?
Hijaab becomes a strange elf language to the sisters, "Ancient" is the word
or is it outdated? It is just a piece of cloth comes the response....
Brothers on the roll, Guns become Roses. Absurdity at its peak
Is this the Bloom of Youth? Is this what it means to be a Youth?
Tell you what..Dear Youth, In that moment of Truth
In that shrieking moment of torment, You won't find besties Muna or Ruth
Before that inmost soul of human fear and agony, Before it fills the air..
Will you have worked for the hereafter aye Youth?
Get Told.
'Afore my ink pen 'dries', Here's a Salute
To the youth keeping it Deenly, I applaud their credible Repute.
MashaAllah....Alhamdullila
May Allah (swt) Guide us ALL to the right path. Amiin.
One love :)
Ilhan Bashir
Copyright 2010.
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