I glance back, to glance at
My past, and victorious combats,
But some wouldn’t believe,
What I have achieved, through grieve,
So please, ask me not about me,
But who I learned to become,
And I’ll try to sum,
Between the violin and drums,
conveying my sadness,
You can hear my voice trembling, while I confess
in tears and words, I combine,
Hand in hand, they define and
draw the lines, of me and they
Only to find, that ‘they’
Are left ___ behind.
I blindly, glance back,
to glance at
My past, and
I glance back, to glance at
Today, I spoke in silence,
Uttered my pain, and spat my past
Only to be heard by my enemy
Who stood and gazed,
Wrapped his thoughts around me,
And made love to my vision,
Trying to figure out my weakness,
Surrendered hopelessly, but I beg not.
Silence is golden, but I’m poor
Deprived from my rich elements,
Robbed from me,
Is my valuable self,
That only I dreamt about, often
He touches my soul, whispers in my ears
“tell me more, my future”
I nod no, but do otherwise,
Unable, to help myself from speaking,
Speaking, in silence.
One two, mic check,
I introduce the beat to my ears, swear it sounds so sweet,
I check my microphone, while I tap my feet to the beat,
I then greet, those who understand the lyrics of the street,
"Salaam World, please go ahead and take a seat,"
I put my head down, and I get ready to be discreet,
I beg you with my eyes, to open your earlobe, and listen
Cause my words are borrowed from those who don't glisten,
...the poor and the unfortunate, and I swear I feel sickened,
So I rhyme from the heart, to make you feel what I'm spitting,
and my spit is heavy, it might feel like the rainy season,
I'm tired of asking for a reason, so I bare their treasons,
I don't bother speaking --I carry signs of words with me,
I figured they read more then they listen to my apathy,
I swear I sense the agony, those held in political detainee,
I replay the verses of Bob Marley in my head, and I feel it innerly,
I want to fight for the their rights, but I'm too angry,
and mom said, coldest fight is being friendly to your enemy,
So I share a laughter or two, while I deceit them happily,
Pregnant with worries of my countrymen, feeling so heavily,
Unconsciously, I persistently write songs about my country,
So please excuse me, if you can't relate to me ...
To be continued ...
I conceal my true feelings
denying the existence of love, by
burying the sun beneath the clouds,
And the moon from lighting my soul,
Away, I run
To a place I can heal,
Patch up the wound, caused by your smile,
Cure my heart, from the words not spoken,
Your face, converted into a day dream,
Only dreamt at night. Sleepless I am,
I bang my head on the wall, aching to escape,
Escape from the echoes of your "Hi's" and "Goodbyes"
And the words that haven't been formed yet,
Seventy-two hours, and twenty four minutes ago,
Alone we sat. Stood. Stared, in Silence,
While we hummed melodies made from amity,
Trying to ferret out of this taciturnity,
As your eyes gleamed,
My lips suffocate the words,
Speechless, yet full of lyrics to sing,
*Whistles of an unknown tune*
Away I ran,
To a place of remorse,
Where the roads never end,
And love is far behind,
I ran with embryonic thoughts,
Fragments of your reflection,
On the day of our greeting,
Your beauty, your being
Bouncing in my brain,
I have believed once, that I can deny
To rebuff feelings that is far in distance,
But truth has arrived, alone,
Sitting still, sadly on a Sunday noon,
I sat, an spat my plea,
With my eyes closed,
I ran, away I ran. Free
I’d breathe less,
Sleep in conscious,
of my new address,
I’d walk alone, in darkness,
Speak to God, and express,
Confess, hoping He’d hear me
and sense my word stress,
I’d embrace my mother,
Kiss my sister,
Hug my brother,
And eagerly await for my father,
Only wishing to meet him after,
And then my Love,
I only dwell in the conscience
Of regretting not to love him, sooner,
So I’d write him a goodbye letter,
No, better, yet
See you later.
From an ex girl-friend, whom now you call a pall
You tell me the story in excitement and I listen uncomplaining,
But feeling uncomfortable with the situation and what you`re saying,
Thinking of the impossible and having this fear,
You ask me babes are you there?
Oxygen fades away and I`m breathless,
Don`t know what to say, and I`m speechless,
Imagination lopes wild like a little child,
She used to cross miles to make you smile,
I say Yes honey I`m still present.
So you continue the tell me the story,
--bout you and her having history, but it really concerns me,
Cause I really don`t believe in having an Ex as a Homie,
I recall the session of us trying to solve the situation,
And having one on one conversation,
If I`m okay with you and your ex having an amity?
Okay I`ll say, but not if she is calling you everyday,
I can`t grasp having nightmares of her taking you away,
Call me psychosomatic for feeling so static,
But it`s chaotic how I predict like a psychic,
Maybe I whisper, if she remains like a sister,
And there is no cross-over and you can`t call her,
And she is not permitted to cross the border and that is an order!
No I mumble, while with the thought I struggle,
Why do you have to bundle if she`s already a couple?
Okay, hmmm give me a minute or two,
What if she is still in love with you?
What am I supposed to do?
Questions got the best of me,
I`ve never felt this jealousy,
But this is a challenge to be against my own sanity!
(So Qalbi bare with me)
Like the bay tree,
Lying with passion
Hearing the waves passing
Shifting from side to side
Sifting from wrong to right
Unlike, the liquid of rain and rivers
Bored with tasteless drifters.
Watching the sun, set
Observing the secret,
On how the stars imitate the tales of
Like the Messengers of God,
Loving the uneven --and odd,
See love, had
Depicted pigments to show hurt
Love had unspoken words
An action showed, by the widow birds
Whistling songs of pain
Soaked with tears of bitter rain,
Tunes, of their blood fuse,
Everlasting bruise, like
The engraved tat’toos,
by I, and you
Ending with I, and who?
Lies is confound with the truth,
And now the truth, can be lies too,
See, love was good,
Before it was Ms. Under. stood,
Before she satisfied, your manhood,
And before he, could but
See, it was those days,
Before the deceptive phase,
Where dreams would chase,
And dreams would embrace,
The modest and grace,
Love knew its partner,
And it would hunt her,
And the clouds would cover
Like the womb of a mother,
While she hover
And I know him,
Cause I was his victim
When my life was dim,
I was captured by sin,
Tortured to sin, and sin
Was his only way to grin,
But I persisted to grim,
Insisted to be virgin,
For Heaven spoke to me
And I was supposed to be,
Observing, the sinful,
An act of evil,
Is a counterfeit of
There will be a day,
Will only hear the fading
of my existence,
A day where my being
Will linger through
Is the ignition of my past,
And the past will be
The lone thing that will last,
My name will only
Be declared by
I used to embrace,
I used to stroke,
Love will forget me,
And those before
Who spoke in vain
Will now speak in
Will be buried
Beneath the soil,
Where I will meet
And the unknown
And welcome me to a home
Assembled by the
Contingent of my moral,
There will be a day,
Sure will be the day
Where my existence will fade
But my words will endure
You will hear my name,
In the intone of scripts
Written by age,
The meaning is less
In my time of being,
But it shall increase
After my passing.
Shall be your
And that day,
You will remember
Will be the day
I am history!
You’ll flip through the text books,
Pages 1 2 and 3
And I will be in between
And Islamic Mystery
You will find my face
Grinning on those chapters,
And you will study my misery
My struggle, and pain
The blood I rained,
The life I have gained
You will learn that
my life was in fact
With my roots,
And that my people,
Where the people,
That chanted, and hummed
In the land of poetry
Far in the East of
Where my mother gave
Birth to a daughter
And named her,
There will be a day
You will read
I cried for confinement
In my mothers' womb,
To be unseen
By the enemy of God,
I lingered to shut my eyelids,
I heard the humming of my mother,
She embraced me with a pleasant scent
That can only be created
She held onto me, every night with affection
As I cried
Craving for her attention,
Yearning for her touch,
And longing to be nourished.
We cherished one and another
And sleepless hours of darkness.
With gleaming eyes
As I hear
Coming to safe me
From unfamiliar world.
She was my teacher,
She gave me strength
When I was weak
To live endlessly
In a finite world,
She'd wiped my tears,
And gave me confidence.
She made me,
Strong and brave,
Through her story,
Struggle for survival,
Only to survive
She dodged death,
After God it is she I live to serve.
I overheard a sad song, sang in my mother’s tongue,
Theatre of war, in the streets of loneliness! She said
Where death is the only comrade for the sad,
Where smiles are the shadows and frowns lead,
Where knowledge is grasped through hate, and greed
We tried to pull along side, but failed! She said
And now, we whistle our anthem
As the words are forgotten,
In these dusky streets,
Spirits are abducted, by the devil,
Captured and tortured until they spill,
Now enraged and ill
With animosity, that can only kill,
In these painful streets,
Bits of rocks are stained with blood,
Happy dreams are left to rot,
Bullets are praised, instead of God,
New born, were born for hopes and future
But in these streets, they’re forgot,
See these streets, have death as their mark,
Nothing like Hollywood blvd, where they spark,
Pavements are painted with sad veneer,
Blood as their only ink, brushing the frontier,
In these cruel streets,
Neighbors walk with frowns
As they hold their head down,
While they hear the “Bang Bang” sound,
The only tune, played by this town,”
In these streets,
Mothers are left alone
Children wondering on their own,
While fathers decay in the combat zone,
Out here, cause of death is mostly unknown,
But death is our only homegrown.
*To Be Continued*
Why persist to hate, I wonder,
Cause everywhere I go, I see a hater,
Flashing his words, like it matters,
Opening her mouth, and splatters –negativity,
As if hating is a social activity, for those that lack creativity,
We ought to face the reality,
And delete “haters” from the human society,
Murder every hater you see,
Don’t matter what age they’d be,
*Mumbles* Even old people, be hating on me,
I swear, it’s too much energy,
To be hating on a certain degree,
But truly, I hate haters that hate,
How will you see the heaven’s gate?
When all you do is hate?
You need to migrate,
And come to the loving state,
A place where all you do is appreciate,
It’s never too late,
So come and cross the road,
Smile, as you cross, and change the mode,
In the “Loving State” you have to consign an oath,
Cause we have “never hating” policy code,
We sing Kumbaya and hold hands,
Something you never did in the Hater lands,
So ladies and gents lets come together,
And let us avoid being a hater.
It has always been hard for me to write you a poem,
I’d burst into tears, due to my absence of home,
I wrote you millions of letters, conveying my heart,
Letters couldn’t express my feelings, it couldn’t impart,
I’m shaking as I’m writing this, wish you were here,
I can smell your presents, and the thought is sincere,
I ponder about our alone times, and embrace the notion,
Never saw you after the catastrophe, after the commotion,
Never understood the reason, but the memory couldn’t inter --
I can only wonder
And imagine you, closer,
I thought I’d come back for you, when the hate was over,
But it only got worse, to an extend your children dispersed,
And I know you’re disturbed to see your children diverse
Into the white-mans land,
A land, you and I, can never understand,
I love you, like my mother,
But you left me as an orphan, with fading ink,
Reeling to find you, but I only sink,
I hoped and wished for a new life, but couldn’t stop the blink,
Now I sleep with open eyes, because I can’t stop to think
If you’re still alive, or if death has come to arrive,
If so, will you return back for those that survived,
I know our faith has been torn,
As if we were cursed, before we were born,
But I shall no more mourn, and grieve in tears,
For I have sunk in pain, in the past years,
I’ve been in the nadir of despair,
I embraced a gloomy air, in hope to see you here,
But I only see orphans, just like myself,
Speaking in the language of hate, in need for help,
But I continue to
blindly steer this journey of mine,
In hope to --find you in time,
But linger to be a victim of a hopeless crime,
Will I ever
See you, ever,
Or will I never
See you smiling broadly,
Make you proud --of me,
Or will I remain an orphan
With no land,
Will I tell the tales on how my life began
With no happy end?
Have you looked in my eyes, recently?
Without your thought, mulling over your sexuality,
Fearing, your temptations will erupt in front of me,
Have you glanced at my history?
By looking at my curvy hips, and glossy lips?
Reversed your glancing trip, so your mind gets to grips?
Have you taken semi-concealed look?
Before the pages close, in your manly book,
Have you stolen words, from a cheap crook?
Scripted with “I, (maybe, never), will, marry you”
Have I satisfied you, with no giving clues?
Can you predict my past, by looking at my eyes?
Truly, tell me, can you tell me, without lies?
All the suffering I have been through and the cries?
All the love I’ve given and the passion in your lives?
All the questions asked, and the provided whys?
Have I not given birth, to a warrior, and you?
…Have you sung the blues, without sad tunes?
Have you run tracks, in the divided dunes?
Lost and hopeless, in the month of June,
Is the breath I breathe, the heat your mind consumes?
Are you attuned to my figure, and the steady picture?
Is your mind intoxicated with the simulated liquor?
Have you followed a path, with unwritten direction?
Have you bared lust, in a scripted affection?
Have you jumped on a wagon, with body full of rejections?
Have you build ambitions, without a chosen perfection?
Truly, tell me, can you tell me, without lies?
Without the need to improvise in your old guise,
Would you have looked at me, if my body was disguised?
Would you have devised your words into diluted lies?
What is it that my body has informed your mind?
That left you undefined and blind, combined,
That made you walk undermined and immodest, entwined,
I stand firm, in the past of my fathers,
…Those men that stood still against time,
Fought with pen, and strengthened rhyme,
…Those that rose up only to climb higher,
Full of ambitions and fulfilling desire,
I question your thoughts, for I have doubts,
Before you gazed, and stood as a frisky scout,
Have you not thought speaking of a unique route?
For I am familiar in this road of deformed crowd,
I have past the devil, for I gave him a clout,
I reached this stance, because I am devout
You are a man, whose pity must come out,
And I am a woman, a mother, and sister who is not proud.
Through my despair,
Of my unwilling conscious,
We had a dynamic dialogue,
In the darkness of night,
He rapt me in his arms
Embracing my life, firmly,
We were both in a mission,
To be completed in time,
He was urgent, and I was naïve,
Not grasping the end of mine,
I linger in a life, designed for evil,
Oh, how I am out of reach for my soul,
I cried in my formation, questioning why!
Now, reckoning with the answer granted,
I didn’t have time to think of you, Oh death,
But now that I met you, I wish I had,
It’s not your look that I fear, but the thought
The thought of you and I –being in a room,
In a night that is impotent to resume,
I grin with fear –accepting the notion,
I know you’re in a hurry,
But can we chat before I leave,
I have questions to ask, and perhaps
Help me gain knowledge,
Of why I exist,
Why I persist to breathe,
Explain the yearning of my life,
The sweet tasting life,
Must I leave you, now?
Torn asunder, body into soil,
Assigned to fit collectively,
Perfection, made by God,
Plan to destroy, by death,
I can smell your haste,
The restless of your stick,
Imperatively in need,
To end of my life –
Oh God, let this be,
My last tears,
Let me wake up, in bliss
In the garden of heaven,
Sitting with my past,
Embracing my future,
In this, infinite life!
Revulsion of self,
Depicted by moral,
Imprisoned in a womb,
Then I am freed, but still
Shackled in a dream,
Running loose, like bats,
I am blind, not deaf
I can hear the calling,
Craving for lies,
Until this moment,
I can see, clearly
But unable to hear,
I can finally
Can at last
She was young and beautiful,
The type to embrace the innocent,
Blue eyes, blond hair,
Steady like a model figure,
A coke bottle picture,
The sort you’d capture
somewhere up on the freeway,
The brand that would twist your neck
craving like an addict,
Wishing it was you, in that mini skirt
Envy, and she easily stimulates your senses,
A look of her, makes you imagine
and dream about the impossible,
She’d give you hope, and reasons to cope
with life and its fucked up obstacles,
The way she walks and talks, like a rock star,
She seems to understand your mind
when everyone gave up on you,
She makes you see the light
In a room, full of gloom and absence,
Oh, how I wish to be her,
Sinful but yet an angel in presence of me,
Criminal but yet innocently proven guilty,
Deceitful but yet exquisitely a true liar,
Beautiful, but yet repulsive in fire,
Oh, how she resembles the devil,
Oh, how I wish to be her.
[I want the readers to be aware of the precise stance of this poem. Some poems are abstract or nonfigurative; in this circumstance I’m wishing to be the devil, but there is a major message behind this specific concept. At times, you’re drawn to become something that your conscious is far from wanting to be; I’m not saying that you wish to be the devil, but at times you surely wish to be what he appears to be, and he misleads the innocent into becoming EVIL, by displaying EVIL to be cool and accepted.]
To sustain your own quality, you’d have to endure and tolerate your own value, and believes. Don’t let that be misled.
Yeah, I wonder what joy it brings,
Or how it clings to pain and things,
How it swings in between –the life ring,
Is it safe –shall I be brave and go in blind,
Or stay behind, from the rest of mankind,
Can love make up one’s mind, and assign a new life?
Can it build a house and give comfort to a new wife?
Can it safe a relationship, without the need to strive?
I wonder, if love is magic,
If it brings joy and entertainment, as well as tragic,
Provide angels wings, and befall the devils’ walking stick,
I wonder, if love is bitter,
The charm of glitter, raining in a hot weather,
Or the flame of fire, embracing the snowy winter,
I still wonder, if love is bending
Like a sad movie, with happy ending,
Or crying with tears, with joy mending
I appeal to feel this surreal dream,
I want to reveal what I persist to deem,
Love I hear, like a surround sound,
Love I feel, like an earthquake underground,
It keeps me wondering under suspense,
I want to meet love, and have lovely experience.
She was lost in the path of darkness,
Looking for me,
She embraced evil in her chest,
Hoping to feel me,
She cried, tears of pain and agony,
Only to see me,
She spoke with fear,
Wanting to kiss me,
She carried herself with lack of respect,
To draw attention to me,
She felt hopeless --not knowing what hope is,
Yearning for me,
She tore her heart apart and bled,
To be numb from me,
She wanted to be back home,
Alone with me,
She was anxious to be alone,
Incomplete without me,
Dreams of me,
Kept her awake constantly,
She wanted to be free,
But I wouldn’t let her be,
Who am I, and who is she?
I am her, and she is me.
Dear Allah, I sit here trembling with fear,
Knowing that the End of Days is drawing to us near,
All the scripted signs continue to appear each year,
With ignorance we ignore, while it seems so clear,
Forgive me Allah, for you have been sincere,
Gave me all that I needed, gave me the right gear,
Warned me with signs, and the words of the Holy book,
Gave me happiness, and showed me death but I still overlook,
Forgive my stupidity, for ignorance is never accepted,
Tactlessly I fell in a trap --I shouldn’t have adapted,
…the westerns’ boldness,
It’s a progress that needs your bless, so I can clean this mess,
Please Allah, accept my request-- for I am a slave put into test,
Let me win this battle, let me digress away with success,
Put me into heavenly rest until the day You assess,
…the day You behest, the day all the living confess,
…the day the Angels attest, the day we ask for another chance,
…but chance was giving to us in advance, in our careless stance,
The devil put us in trance --hypnotized us to glance so we trans
…from the truth, to lies and shake hands to become good friends,
But let this be a day, where Satan and I become enemies,
…become rivalry in this life of me, to discover his hidden keys,
To unlock the hidden disease, and release the pain along with the rest of the abductees,
Let me please, become a true Muslim while living in ease --see
I want to feel the breeze, I want to feel the peace
…while I increase praising
Al^Azeez, The Defeater --who can never be defeated,
Al^Jabaar, The Compeller --who His compels is completed,
Al^Khaaliq, the Creator -- who made us from clay and perfected
…perfected my appearance, and gave me self-esteem,
…I thank You -- Al’Raheem
Please don’t cry –as I explain the reasons why,
It was life I couldn’t led and live –
It was time for me to get out and give,
I know mother, you will get mad for what I’ve done,
But hopefully this letter will explain why I had to run,
Please mother understand –this life I couldn’t stand,
The angel of death had me taken my life with my own hand,
It wasn’t painful I have to say –
Prayed Maqrib before I took my life away,
But I’ll admit –it was murder crime I committed,
And I know these sort of things aren’t permitted,
But I’m tired of running circles in the same track
So please God forgive me –as I give my life back,
I know I might face nothing like grace,
Questions in my grave awaits as my body is put in place,
I will hear the woe, so mother don’t you cry,
And if they ask “why I committed suicide?” this is why!
I need pen to write my inner thoughts
Articulate the struggle my people fought,
The motive that brought my distraught,
I persist to be overwrought,
I need paper to leak on,
Pen to breath on,
And words to keep on--expressing,
Repressing my freedom while recessing violence,
Distressing warlords with equal social defense,
So we can give happiness a chance,
I feed people the truth through poetry,
And poetry feeds me the clear glossary,
The distinction to what’s close to me,
Close to be free, from insanity,
We can make change, as we look back in our history,
Spot the things we miss to see, that left us in mystery,
I shall not plea guilty, but set my people free from misery,
Stand up for liberty, and trade vanity for empathy for my country,
…I continue to demand, to live under the white man,
…thinking it’s a clear stand, standing under his right hand,
Not noting his invisible command, that continues to expand,
Yes we can,
Indeed we can have peace, whenever we please,
Breathe and inhale while you feel the breeze,
Be grateful when you seize the moments of ease,
Understand the keys of life to a certain degrees,
My mental stage intends to freeze when-I’m without my pen,
I’m addicted to poetry, which kills me once again.
Imagine, to never be seen by another soul,
Visualize, walking down the earth without a goal,
Imagine never feeling the ache for love,
Never have the fear human, but only the above,
Imagine never needing money, just a paper grown from a tree,
Never needing a friend, just another human to be set free,
Imagine fighting in a war without a gun, but with serenity,
Imagine giving the poor what they need, food and charity,
Imagine taking away the rich what they greed, money and popularity,
Imagine if death never existed, then life would have been never-ending,
But some plead for death, for it is their only way to surviving,
Imagine if equality is the only quality to source of revenue in this earth,
And the livelihood of life is the life of a new born strive from birth,
Imagine if our verve was similar to the Prophets and their companion,
Imagine if perfection was the only perfect word in the whole lexicon,
Imagine never looking back in the past but only pass to succeed,
And the only pass to success is to lead, but never to need for greed,
Power is for the weak that require to battle in the midst of heat,
But instead I speak, let my voice be heard without the need to beat,
Imagine if art was a way of curing the sick mind,
If art defined what scientist never was able to find,
Imagine if truth could be witnessed only by our eyes,
Imagine if our eyes could recognize the concealed lies,
If deception could never disguise, then the world would have been faithful,
Imagine if hatred was replaced with love, and regret with grateful,
I close my eyes, and reach out beyond belief,
And when I open, I find myself in the midst of grief.
You’ve shot my father,
You’ve hung my mother,
Raped my older sister,
Physically abused my brother,
Me!? you made me suffer,
Made me behold and watch my family give up their soul,
Shivering from the cold, no mother to hold,
”You never had a father” I have been told,
Sometimes in my dreams I picture, the horrible things I’ve captured,
Images of my sister crying “God, help me!”
Visualizing mother looking at me hopelessly,
Years have past, but I live life like today is my last,
Why oh why I’ve asked and answer had never been passed,
Always been the child of outcast, I’ve meant to outlast my family,
So I let myself live in life of misery,
Can’t erase those memories, I’ve gained through my history,
So I say it was my destiny, that meant to be,
Hopefully God has written other plans for me
I hear my mother cry,
And when I ask why?
With tears she reply,
“My daughter goodbye
It has been a pleasure to have given birth,
And for what is worth, I have seen hell on earth,
I have seen blood spill and hunger berth,
Sand has turned into blood and dirt,
From joy to hurt, from streams to wasteland,
From where I stand –to warlords empty hand,
How can I take a command from an unholy man?
I, painfully stand, where mothers were being torn,
From the West to the Horn,
How can this be compared to the norm?
How can you equalize me to those who were born
…in freedom? Which we (Somalia) could never form”
Wake up again,
Stand up again,
Fight back again please,
I can’t be too sensitive when this is subjected
I’m living in a world that’s infected,
…with pain and struggle, that’s neglected
How can my wrongs be perfected?
…when life is hectic and never static?
My words are making me sick,
My mind is aching and I feel my nerves tick,
With poetry I reduce the panic,
I have no place to turn,
I feel the hate and the burn,
We seem to yearn for mistakes, but we never learn,
…so Mother Africa,
Wake up again,
Stand up again,
Fight back again please.
I hate you,
Yes I said it,
I hate you,
I have never loved you
I look in your eyes,
Wanting to kill,
Despise your standing,
Wish you could fall,
But you remain tall while I crawl,
I cut for pain due to my numbness,
I want to feel something,
But all I feel is hate and anger,
Shattered dreams, and conquered soul,
I want to feel whole,
If anything, I want to feel all,
I nod my head, but words utter otherwise,
I pick myself up, and I try to rise,
I speak with hate and cries,
Who really am I?
And why do I continue to try?
Why can’t I just die?
Why can’t I finally say goodbye,
I’m slave in my own body,
I want to be set free from jealousy,
Because jealousy is killing me, slowly.
We’ll conquer the world together,
Hold each other forever, and whenever
…we lose ‘ever’ we continue to never lose hope,
…and when the weather brings sadness we’ll cope
…with warmth of our lips and the touch of our kiss,
How can I ever miss, this equation of us equals bliss,
How can I ever exist without my other half?
How can this graph increase with happiness, which I won’t have,
If the two of us don’t pass, how can I ever laugh?
How can I share pleasure, if sadness overlaps?
How would I be able to unwrap this trap?
How can I release myself from such crap?
I would never leave you sad, but I would be glad,
…To have you on my lap, and listen to this track,
“Just the two of us, we can make it if we try”
…and then rewind that shit back,
I’m seriously addicted to you like crack,
And if I don’t have you, I’ll die of heart attack,
Now take a closer look at us,
’Cause it always remain “Just the two of us”
Why do we need twist this love we share?
When all I care about is being fair,
Why do I need to tell you lies to win?
When all I want to bring is my love from down within,
Why do I need to deceive my mind-set?
When all I get at the end is regret,
Why do I need to play hard?
When I know you’re my stand guard,
Why do you refuse to hold my hand?
Why is it hard for you to take a firm stand?
Why can’t we do our love confessions?
…utter them three expressions,
Why do we persist to hurt one another?
Why can we insist to love each other?
What do we gain from, besides this pain?
Why do we play this mind game?
You and I,
How can I,
…be on this bitter treat,
I –try to greet but bittersweet
…doesn’t want me to lead,
I want to be just with you,
But I’m stuck with bittersweet too,
This led me to hating you,
But I swear I love you,
…want to hug you,
…be with you,
But I also want to run,
Scream “we’re done”
…and say goodbye son,
…and be gone,
But, how can I?
When I finally succumbed
How can we?
When we finally have summed,
..To what we have became?
For bittersweet love has left us in shame,
For it left me cursing out your last name,
Screaming and clashing, with pain,
I love you, but bittersweet fucks me in the brain,
“Fuck you, and don’t come back again”
I scream and complain, knowing our love will remain the same,
It’s time we let this chain loose, for we lose more then we gain,
Even though they say “no pain, no game”
Bittersweet is literally driving me insane.
I just write like a blind man,
I compose lyrics to release pain,
But pain decided to refrain,
So I write poetry to complain,
…but my pain remains
…so shit stays the same,
Now tell me what you see,
When you read this?
Tell me if my shit is worthless,
Tell me if I need to write less,
To the mindless,
Or if my poetry progressed with success,
Tell me what you witness?
Tell me if this is real mess,
Can you feel my stress?
By the way I digress away from the sentences?
Please tell me if I’m making sense,
Tell me and I try not to play defense,
Throw me your two cents,
And I try not to be dense,
Release my mind muscles, to be less tense,
I welcome your comments with wide open fence,
Nevertheless I hope my poetry keeps you in suspense,
‘Cause I write for you, those sitting in the audience,
My respectful, caring, loving FANS!
I tried to imagine her last tears, as I said goodbye,
I wiped off the tears from her cheek, and said “please don’t cry”
I’m trying to imagine your pain, as you’re reading my goodbye,
We have laughed and cried for joy, as we sat in the crowd,
Had our ups and downs, but remained to keep our friendship avowed,
We even argued at times out loud, but our friendship outstood firmly proud,
Malak al-Maut will have me in his arms, carrying me to the highest cloud,
But I will hold you in my thoughts as I’m being put to death,
Reminiscing our only happy days while exhaling my last breath,
Remember when I said that you were my only soul mate?
I meant every word, and I’m writing you this before it’s too late,
How can I ever forget or even try to forget?
I will conceal all the things you’ve said,
And the promises I’ve kept, will I always remain our secret,
Please laugh when I’m gone, don’t show sign of sadness,
All I ever want you to do is live in happiness, life of full bliss,
I’m shedding tears, as I’m trying my best to write this,
…in my soul, you will always exist,
In my mind and heart, you will always be missed,
No matter what the judgments are, that I will face,
But memories I will never erase,
It’ll be embraced in a special place,
…a space that only Allah can replace,
Keep me proud and keep me in your pray,
I will count on you, if I fall short on the judgment day,
Goodbye for now…For now I can’t stay,
I love you,
I speak freely, but my words are kept concealed,
I can see clearly, but my vision is left unrevealed,
I speak with my mothers tongue, but hatred is all I hear,
I fight with my fathers’ heart, but pain and death is my fear,
I think with a mind so sharp, but anger has me confused,
I believed in freedom, but my freedom has been excused,
I write words of art, but art died in the hands of Cilmi Bodhari, (legendary)
Now I’m left with nothing, and nothing is in this poetry,
Can I really be expecting to see, my country so peacefully?
Without the numbers of death increasing in the books of history?
Can we really establish a government that’s beyond average?
Without the need to kill our own, and increase the damage,
How can I ever raise the flag with a smile on my face?
How can I ever touch this flag and try my best to embrace
…when people have died and shed blood, for one place?
How can we replace the hatred that left us in disgrace?
Could we ever erase, what left us in pain? (Tribes)
…which left us with nothing but shame?
How can we ever explain to the humane?
…that the reasons why we fought were due to tribal names,
How could we disclaim-each other, when we’re all the same?
How could we kill one another, when Islam is in the frame?
Can we maintain a unity and fight our own enemy, with the need to fall?
Can we sustain to protect our country, with the power of One for All?
Matter fact, I need to free me,
But first I need to free thee,
So we can free each other,
Which will Free Somalia!
When will we reunite?
When will we hold hands tight, and decide,
To put our differences aside,
When will we hide our tribe, to stop the fight?
When will our light shine bright?
And will our kids sleep safely at night?
When do we see the sun, without the mist?
And will we catch all the love we’ve missed?
When will Islam be put on the list?
And erase the warlords with One fist,
When will we cure the pain?
…to build back our name
When will we erase the shame?
To have Somalia reunite again,
When will Somalia be known?
And will I ever go back home?
…without the fear of my own,
When do we stop wishing?
When do we stop reminiscing?
And when will the warlords stop insisting,
When will we finally cope and never elope?
…and will we ever find the gone hope,
When can I finally stand?
When can I finally touch my sand?
When can we finally have peace in our land?
When can we stop the demands, and lend a hand?
When can we close this pain, to put “history” stamp,
When will we reunite again?
When will we reunite again?
The questions remains, can we reunite again?