The Nation of Poets

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Group Poem 15 - tribute to Mumia Abu Jamal

No one deserves to be treated in such a cruel way. Mumia has been deprived of living out his life for so many years, and now they're trying to put an end to his life.

Fight alongside this innocent man.

Don't let this happen -it could happen to you someday as well.

Mumia Abu Jamal

Imprisoned for more than a decade,

Deprived of living out his life,

His memories still un-faded,

He continues to strive.

Mumia Abu Jamal he is known to be

The truth in his eyes we can see,

From this false crime he wishes to be free,

But why can’t the world hear his plea? “fry this nigger” the so called judge says,

But stronger Mumia becomes throughout these harsh days.

Skin is black,

His innocent for a fact.

On death row his placed,

With the worst reality he is faced.

Calm and tranquil he remains,

Faith in his heart he sustains.

Advises himself aside never to cry,

And to save his life he’ll try.

For so long he has been fighting,

And for the sake of justice the way his been lighting,

Black he may be, But the truth always sets us free.

Mumia brother, never give up hope,

Injected with poison or hung by a rope,

Beside you we’ll fight,

The blind and narrow minded will see in you the light.

Put aside your prejudices and give this being his right to live,

Take off the blind folds and this story do believe,

Cause all I see is a man fighting for his life,

And with all his heart he continues to strive.

Help save the life of another,

Despite his skin he’s still our brother,

Show some care,

And this story, with the whole world share.

- Nimo Abdi Warfa

Reaching out to the yellow sun.

Once upon a time, I think I was born human, memories left in yonder, yet I remember, when I was over whelmed by emotion, like striking a matchstick, after the combustion within my system, all that remained was burnt and black.

I felt it leave, as it reached out to the yellow sun; I often wondered whether I was to ever get my soul back, I look around me, in search of its scent, but being confined to this hole by a gun, blockade walls climb higher, obscuring my vision of the yellow sun.

Surrounded by the hopeless, to even think of freedom is a death wish, my days are nightmarish and my nights are restless, more then once I wish to join the runaway slaves, and dig holes at the Egyptian border, then the jets fly over, turning the gateway to heaven into burning graves.

Frequently the wind comes with the breeze of peace, and all hope of it is gone by the time the yellow sun is setting, never even getting close enough to taste it, a struggle everyday, survival is the only way, so I am trying to stay living, young and old, mentally or physically sick, we are all placed in the same fold.

As I watch the yellow sun turn amber, the hate within me starts to whisper, what if I came to your residence, move you to refugee camps, scatter you and your people on the continent, a heavy dose of your own evil medicine, so you can experience first hand your own sin, like destroying your family and erode your sanity.

Deny your heritage; delete you from every historical page, with weapons of mass destruction, and political hidden agendas, plastic smiles ensuring your children don’t grow and come of age, make my horrors your daily stage.

At the end of each day, when the yellow sun has withdrawn its luminous rays, once upon a time, I think I was born human, now I am an animal in the empty wilderness, forgotten, the only thing I have left other then the air, is desire, desire which only belongs to freedom.

Hamza Egal

This Monday [Nov. 15th]

Remember this Monday InshaAllah

To fast as it is the day of Arafah

A great opportunity

To abstain and attain purity

As the reward of this day

Is having the sins of 2 years wiped away

It’s important to have the daleel

As with evidence things become real

So take the time to look up this hadeeth

You will find it in the famous Saheeh Muslim reported by Abu Qatadah

May Allah help us attain true Taqwa

Nimo Yusuf

Verse-Vader

Put the pen to the paper

Let the ink from this pen bleed on this paper

Let the words pierce your heart like a sabre

Let them slice your fears like a razor

Let them shock your senses like a taser

Let them shoot through your veins like a ranger

Let them fire your thoughts like a blazer

Let your guard down, you’re in no danger

Learn to live for yourself, and not the hater

Learn to aim for your goals like a laser

Learn to avoid mistakes to avoid the regrets later

Learn to believe in the power of prayer

Learn to always return a favour

Lessons life taught you, keep them in a crater

Look into the mirror, learn to love that stranger

Look into your past, keep what you loved and bury the remainder

Loaded with self-doubt? Annihilate them layer by layer

Livid with fear? Cut through them like a bona fide slayer

Why settle for better when you can be greater

I am not an extension of my maker

Merely a proof of his existence

Famo A.L

untitled by Laila

I told myself I would forget you; forget all the painful memories that used to stick in my head. All the tears I cried, because of you. The tears of sadness and loneliness. I tried everyday, but I got distracted. I tried to found ways, tried to explain it to myself. The why’s. But I knew deep inside, it was nothing wrong with me, it was you this time. Not me. Now I praise God for giving me the most difficult hardships I ever faced in my entire life. There was no days in the cold winters, who kept me warm, expect Allah. He certainly not leaved me, like the way you left. He trusted me, he told me to be remain tough. So, I did what I was told. I prayed, and I found my contentment. I realized that I thought you could give me the happiness I wanted, but how wrong I was!

Now you’re a zero to me, you didn’t deserve any tears I cried. I wouldn’t even rate you one, out of 1 to 10.My kindness for you, was definitely too good to be exact! You might be worthy of some ones elses deceived heart. But not mine anymore. So do me a favour, walk off.

I don’t hate you; you still do what you are supposed to do. But that’s only because my mom raised me with manners. I wish one day, that you would find somebody who deserves your love, the one you cant live without. I only wished you the best in the past, even though you broke me like chalk and cheese.

But, if it’s wasn’t for you, I would never found my love. If it wasn’t for you, I would have never been me. I would still think that you do what you do and you live with it. But my beloved, my dearest, told me nothing more than to be grateful and have hope for the upcoming days. You never told me that. I now wish you the same, that you never should be left alone in the dark. Then one day you might realize the truth. The real one.

In fact, you were my brother in my deen. You used to be, then you said no the Mighty One. Thanks to you, every once in a while, when I look at myself I see the person I want too be. A person who no longer looks at this world with nothing else as just a world. A person who strives more and more for the right pace.

I finally do what I always wanted to do. Wordship the True and Most Kind. My Only One. So thank you, thank you!

He gives me everything I need! The things you never gave me, the things you can’t buy with your wallet! The one you have, but only with excuses. Because, my not-friend. It isn’t just things; it’s a life with blessings. Letting you go was the one of the best things I have ever done.

One day this Duniya would perish. It would come a day you can’t save me. It would come a day with consequences, that day I would hopefully walk with pride. I let my desires fall into the flames with you. Not my soul. Sheytan would burn with them. It’s only you I disgust. May Allah put you further than Hell. May Allah put you a place where you truly belongs.

I would not be with him. I stayed with him too long.

Laila Siad

Leaves on an Oak Tree

Looking at the leaves on an oak tree, reminds me of life

Living through four seasons, read the picture and take a dive

You are born, you take root, at season spring

You come into bloom, holding to your mother’s string

You reached summer, youth is in full flower

In no time follows autumn and its rain shower

You lose strength, you change colour, never flew high, time flew by

Floating down like those leaves, looking up to the sky

The wind you played with during summer, took you to the ground

You parted from that oak tree called life, at the speed of sound

Winter is the season, where faith comes into play

I’m a traveller on this Dunya, like those leaves on an oak tree. I won’t stay.

Pen 'N' Paper

-----------

After reading the above poem sister Nimo wrote:

Yes just like those leaves you won’t stay

Neither will I nor the hours of the day

Innature we see the perfect example

Of how in all things we can see life’s cycle

We begin, we grow, and remain for awhile

After we peak we begin to decline

Weaker and weaker till it’s our time

To return to the earth from which we came

To meet Allah and hope we are free of blame

Nimo Yusuf

Breaking it up

Do you see my face in your eyes,

or when you look in the mirror do you see a lie

Because before I knew something wasn’t right,

and that there was no point putting up a fight

I thought we could be one, slippery knife....... and that the harsh job is done

Dripping blood the taste of our love,

and the pain I’m going through I wish I could switch off

I need to leave you now before I become lost,

cos I’ve lost myself within youFeeling the use, that my heart feels bruised.

A waste of a human being

Had a feeling I’d do wrong with you

We are growing apart, I can’t stand to hear you talk

Move over, cos what we had has crushed.

Haven’t seen you for days, but I can smell your scent under my finger tips

And when I think of you I feel the urge to be sick over the fear that I know you

If only I could realise this was a bad path off misery

Knowing you and your problems dragged me and drained me

Let my first words be that you’ll remember a goodbye

And that my last words would be that I hate you

Feeling the true betrayal, that my heart was rigged deep with a nail

Surely once again you failed, I’m gone from the palm of your hands

Idil Ahmed Mahamed

The four letter word.

Of its existence a question,

Manifests its self as frustration,

Some call it the hearts ignition,

Or just blind obsession,

Everlasting or just passing rain,

Joy or the initiation of the coming pain,

Why does the heart feel strain?

Unfamiliar feelings delivered from a different plain,

Confusion bursting into flames of attraction,

Desire that inspires the laying of foundation,

Sweeping winds inducing strong emotion,

Almost mystical how it makes the spirit lift,

Thoughts of making obstacles as big mountains shift,

Only to find you’re self frozen in expectancy stiff?

Blinded from the begin, as one cannot see with the heart,

Reality and mental fiction merge and cant be pulled apart,

The poison that intoxicates the system was inhaled at the start,

Tiptoeing on the edge of existence at any moment losing footing,

Yet it’s at this moment that you can actually feel amongst the living,

Not a single thought is extended to logic or true reasoning,

No question about it for then it is simple madness,

Because some times it is uttered by the eyes wordless,

It is most beautiful when it is effortless, genuine and nothing less,

And when it is found in its entirety, it is doubtless,

Hamza Egal

Speak English German

That’s what I hear

My nickname Herman

Still, some people fear

My opinion, said Mehmet

My story to stir

The heart, which I couldn't neglect

Adnan, was his name, his father a Turk

As teenager, we would hang out every day

When it came to friendship, background didn’t lurk

At the back of our mind, so he would stay

My best friend and my kind to that very moment

Where new things came to his life and change

The way he treated his friends, as if everything came to an end

He kept us on distance, friendship was out of range

I didn’t ask but thought, well, there’s no other way

I have to respect his choice and let him go.

Mehmet was the one, who wouldn’t let me say

That Adnan changed, who has been very low

Adnan was in a low state of mind

There were issues I didn't see, maybe I was blind

His passport name Erhan, family name Bilgin

His family at crossroads, what will tomorrow bring

Grinding with teeth, as he is facing deportation

Back to Turkey

Germany was home, since Turkey was never his destination

'We can't bury our heads in the sand but need to hurry'

That's what Mehmet said

That's how much friendship never got mislaid

Being put in a situation, where we didn’t know what to do

We could only tell the family 'We stand by you'

Heard for the first time, his family classed as immigrant workers

Always saw them as my neighbours, never as foreigners

1961 is when his father was offered work in Germany

Working and living here with his family

That’s what many immigrant workers were hoping for

After all those years, hardship was still in store

Immigration is an issue on both sides

Each party thinking, the other is telling lies

Immigrants tainting other immigrants name

Country of immigration is forced to treat them the same

So who is to blame, who is doing wrong?

It’s a difficult issue, debated for so long!

These were the 1980s: United Kingdom and France

United States and Canada, immigrants given their chance

Issues with immigrants

In the news, always the same rants

Left home and friends

That’s how the story ends

Adnan spoke German

Born in Germany, unlike Herman

He got deported, unlike Mehmet Derman

P.S. Here an excerpt of Adnan's letter

Dear Mehmet, life turned to the better

Turkey became home

Friends and family, I'm not on my own

Learnt in school about Turkey's agreement

with Germany: That's how the story would end

Speak Turkish German

That’s what I hear

My nickname Herman

Still, some people fear

My opinion, said Pen 'N' Paper

My story to stir

The hearts, be my guest and neighbour

Mit freundlichen Grüßen

Erhan Bilgin

Pen 'N' Paper

In the library

In the voice of Chinua Achebe

I look for a book up there

I look for a book out there

I saw a bunch of them

Hard to choose, I got all of them

I want to go and sit down now

And listen to a song by Alice Keys

Although music is playing in my ear,

My eye on a “book of nonsense” by Lear

A book was in his hands, by Lara

His friends call him Tara

As I stare at him walking my way

Back in my head, I was like yay!

His friends were calling him, but larking

I started laughing

I left there, for home

Since then, haven’t seen them

Fatima Ahmed

Thursday, November 4, 2010

My Ghetto

This is my Ghetto

You never dropped in to say, Hello

If you did, I would have respect for you

As you’d have a clue, what we pull through

This is my House

You never saw my people on the bounce

Welfare was never the very choice

Without prospects, can’t promise you any friendly noise

This is my Pen

You never came by to see me back then

Let me write some lines to your mayor

Dear mayor, they never found in your eyes any favour

This is my Paper

You never saw us integrated, call yourself democrat or labour

My name is Pen ‘N’ Paper, not a traitor

Using my stationary to reach you, my friend and hater

This is my Ghetto

You never stopped chasing after my shadow

What is it that makes me a threat or public enemy

My parents didn’t raise their child to cause any felony

This is my Way

You never spent with me a single day

While I stay open minded, drawing in chalk

You judge me, the way I walk and talk

This is my Colour

You never came to power

But you dare to discriminate between white and black

My Ghetto is like the rainbow, Colour doesn’t lack

This is my Passion

You never saw me wearing your fashion

Never tried to fit...you call it, blend in

My Ghetto came to life, avoiding a life of sin

This is my Ghetto

Not everyone is dressed in black and yellow

Diversity

My Ghetto’s priority

Pen 'N' Paper

The definition of beauty

I feel surrounded, overwhelmed even, by pretentious women, like the leaves fall in the winter season, like fire flies dancing past my vision, I smile courteously as I keep walking, of life’s many lesson, I paid close attention, in the fortress of my mind, lays plenty experience in retention.

No offence intended, just my opinions, laid down on paper and extended, if you wish to read it, every now and then I cross paths with another lady, red lips and rosy cheeks, saloon made hair, flowing Russian prison exported sleeks, Blankness overcomes me when she speaks.

A woman is defined by what she knows, not what she adorns, so why do so many naturally blessed women choose to be capitalist pawns, chemicals to mask your natural heritage, when the skin your in is already perfect.

The beauty of splendour is that it runs deeper then the surface, it’s the purity in your soul that ignites me like a furnace, the consciousness in your voice ties me down like a harness.

Not the revealing cloths and crippling heels, you try so hard to ignore the pain that your body feels, no matter how uncomfortable, even if your face falls of and peels, continuously applying the toxic, the fake smile a permanent fix.

The definition of beauty, is something that radiates from depths of your being, it compliments your exterior, a smile from the heart, that warms the spirit of the coldest stranger, modesty in her dress, even in the hottest summer weather, realises that her beauty is a priceless prize, worthy of only the chosen’s eyes, her tongue hides behind no lies.

You are a queen, in life from time to time we all take a left turn, but every mistake is a lesson to learn, within your vessel find comfort, strength your mind into a stable fort, nevermore a slave to what the celebs brought.

In understanding there is no shame, some of these so-called men are the same, just the other day heard one complain, about his make up getting washed away by the rain, my only sentiment, I hope that man bag has something to repair your brain.

Resurrection of myself

-He said, I was the rose that grew from concrete floor

And I'd hold you down, regardless the situation babe

How sweet many of you'd say, But if you only knew half the bullshit that bastard put me through

As I sit here, vividly reminiscing as to why I even fell for him

I quickly remembered witnessing, a man and not a boy

A man with a beautiful mind,body and soul

That told amazing lies

And spoke so eloquently that it seems that the words were dancing on the top of his tongue

And yes I loved him more than anythingIn him,

I would find myselfAnd without him, I was empty

Like a vase without flowers

A cup without water

Shoes but no feet

Gloves but no hands

A room but no bed

Alright alright, you get the picture

And yes, i know it all sounds cliché

But hear me out

I was young and naive

Innocent and pure

But he was all but the opposite

Maybe that's why we harmonized so well

I was blinded by love

And him by lust

A bad mix many would say thus so far

But thankfully it was over

And gratefully I stepped out with a bit of sanity left in me

A year and plus just passed

And as I skim through the pictures and poems

Flashbacks rushing through my mind

I chuckle and laugh and burn it all to pieces

I inhale

I exhale and blow away the ashes

And a tingly feeling starts building in my heart

Making its way to every ligament in my body

I feel itI sense it

I'm born again

Mabsud A

George

“George!”

Whispered a female voice

“Light that torch.”

Let us tell you the story about George – Life gave no choice!

Born in Sierra Leone

We had no reason to moan

Sunshine on my skin

Born with patience, it was never wearing thin

Sand floating; like the river Nile

Couldn’t help but listen to my Grandfather for a while

Birds tweeting like they’ve never seen any grief

While my conflict was still sleeping, there was always peace

Beautiful melody as the folks were singing

Happily, gathered around, the warmth you were bringing

One god, one world, one family

Meaning stability, giving security, living destiny, loving eternity

All of a sudden bullets like stars start to fly

All of a sudden tearless faces, start to cry

All of a sudden one became many

“Bekele!” whispered my nanny

“Light that torch, for peace!”

Deported! She was rebelling for peace, I’m down on my knees

Traumatized! Closed my eyes the whole journey, the land I see

Is not the land of the free

If it was? How come every black woman is put in chain

Centuries later, they will call my birth place “Free Town”

I guess I have to die for that freedom – skin black – eyes brown

Can you please tell me my name

It changed over time – History won’t remember me as the same

“George!” that is what I heard

“Hold that torch!” that’s what I was told, but didn’t understand any word

I didn’t understand why my mother was raped

I didn’t understand why my father’s blood was drained

I didn’t seem to know

To survive I had to extinguish that torches’ glow

Day in, day out on that field I had to starve

Standing on his porch, my self-righteous master would only laugh

Pregnant black woman on the fields

There is nothing that protects her or shields

Her from the truth and all the pain

Her virginity taken by force, her people regarding her as a stain

“Bekele!” that’s what she cried

“Hold that torch! He took all my pride!”

While holding that torch, the dark took her away

“She took her own life.” That’s what history will say!

Who will put us out of our agony?

Uncle Tom said:” George. Light that torch in history.

The fire of youth makes you want to extinguish that torches’ glow

Bear the pain patiently and tell your story like my mother Harriet Beecher-Stowe"

Abraham Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation

Came too late for me, but paved my people’s destination

The bullet of justice hit me in Tennessee

Trying to take my people back to “Free Town”. Finally free.

Sofia Omar in collaboration with Pen ‘N’ Paper