#1 I RESPOND

When you are half a rang up the ladder,
people come with words, chatter, Blabber.
"Remember me? You guy! Remember a brother? "
Damnit!! How could I forget you man!??
Because of you, I am
And I haven't even succeeded yet!!
if you feel like it,
feel free, we can place a bet,
when I succeed, I still will recall ...
Then there comes another,
"Hey yoh! Wassup? I'm here brother "
Fuck it! How could I know you man?!!
you made it where I am,
doesn't mean I know you chum!

This is getting too crazy, a tad.
Even strange voices up my head,
claim to have guided,advised me.
Cinglé, you expect me to? Jump? Hug? Dance with glee?

#1<-------

Hey yoh! Wassup? I'm here at last.
Missed me? My company, our talks past?
Remember my guidance day by day?
You don't? Man!! I was your closest buddy!
I used to show you where to tread and not,
back to your S and G mind with you, the Lot.
You sure remember me boy, or is man?
Cinglé, you named that son of gun!

?

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.2

WOMEN IN HIJAB

I just read this and thought I should share

"dear sisters :)

A women in Hijab is like a pearl in a

shell

Once a Flower met a Pearl.

Flower:"Our family is large: roses and

daisies are members of the family.

There are many having distinctive

scent,appearanc e etc. Suddenly, a

tinge of distress appeared on flower.

Pearl:"there is no sorrow in your talk,

then why are depressed?"

Flower:"Human deal with us

carelessly;not growing us for our sake

but to get pleasure from our fragrance

and beautiful appearance, and throw

us on the street/garbage after using

us. The flower sighed and said "Tell me

about your life! How do you feel it.

your buried in the bottom of the sea."

Pearl:"Although I have none of your

distinctive colors/scents , humans think

I'm precious. They do the impossible

to procure me .I live in a thick shell

isolated in the dark seas. However, I'm

happy and proud to in a safe zone far

from mischievous hands and still the

humans consider me highly valuable."

Think what the Flower and the Pearl

symbolize?

The Flower is the unveiled woman(who

shows her charms)

&

The Pearl is the veiled woman(who

conceals her beauties)"

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.2

THEY CALL ME A FLIRT.

Well, they call me a flirt.
they agree, "He can't keep it shut .
Infact the zip is ripped off and can't close,
He collects bras,thongs, heels even a hose ...
And put them in a closet.a personal collection. "
I agree to all that, it has become an obsession.

one even asked, "Hun, can't you stick to one woman?
Why do keep cheating on each and everyone? "
I answered, "because to me, none is different from the other,
your friends ; Shiro, Julie, Connie and Mel before her,
spent torrid nights with me on that bed.
You knew all that and you still did."

By Jove! She didn't even look flustered,
which helped cement the belief I held.
Then she asked, "you mean you've never met a girl
That made your world dance, head spin and heart twirl? "
I answered, "Never! To me all chics are the same,
I'm that stallion no mare could tame. "

That was lie, in my heart I knew.
The concept of love wasn't, to me, New.
I loved a woman with all me, once,
around her, my cells went into a trance,
my heart did gymnastics, from just once glance,
but she did it, yea, broke my heart.
one Text and my love life was spent

She smashed it to too many a piece
And she did it with such annoying ease.
So girls, call me not a flirt,
it's only that every piece now loves someone different .

I WANTED TO WRITE

I wanted to write about poverty
about the people who are stinking poor,
who can't afford three meals a day.
Who trekked miles to work
and their work is looking for a job
some of whom sleep in the streets.

I wanted to write about the drought
about the malnourished kids I see,
about the failing crop year after year
and the dry winds that pierce your skin
The thorns, and drying trees
The dead cattle, and dry banks.

But I couldn't find the goddamn pen!
I had left my notebook in the limo.
So I sipped my wine enjoying Last months increase,
and scolded my son for playing with food.
then I switched the TV off and slept ...
Knowing the grisly images would fill my nightmares.

BEFORE THE FIRST LINE

I held the mic and stared.
I tried, no word came out.
the air was pregnant with words,
patiently awaiting their birth.
The audience's eyes feasted on me,
some were grinning,
Afore the unsaid lines.
"This Guy's crazy man! Funny." One whispered .

Someone clicked away at the Akallas,
a fashion statement, to them.
An economic statement,to me.
The art's love conquered my Hunger
the joy of words beat the fright.
someone sucked on a straw,
and my thirst subsided.
I licked my lips and turned the mic on.

Forgetting I had nothing for lunch,
forgetting I borrowed the fair,
not knowing how I'd get home
and knowing well I wouldn't get paid,
That I'd just get a half hearted applause
and a "thanks for performing" on my wall.
I licked my drying lips again,
and said my first line.

FUCK LOVE

I didn't explain the last time I shut doors.
When I shut you off and bombed the bridge.
The boat capsized an I grudgingly swam to the shores
and that's a road I no longer wish to Trudge .

After all the chats, confession and gifting,
what you finally did was just ripping. ..
But then you came again, all changed an alluring ...
Fuck!! How could I forget that hell keeps burning.

I'm sorry dear but I've shut down for good now ..
Movie's over *click* last shot! *blaow*
I ain't tying you again ...you are free now
I ain't caging you no more, feel free to whore around now

MY BLUES FOR THE HORN

So as precisely as possible bro,
I wanna answer each question.
before you decide whether you wanna conform
To the popular belief about where we were born.

First, peace and tranquility are long gone
its gunshots and scream that fill the horn.
People no longer sit outside admiring the sun,
what with every crazy kid around toting a gun?.
And the stars look down on us with scorn.
Sometimes I wonder if our sins are too big to atone.
Our skies? They are now no fly zones
Not only planes, even birds get shot down,
if you get a fat one, its food for everyone ...
Elders, children, I mean everyone.

Remember the babies you left, that had just been born,
you should see them now,they are all grown.
Half of them anyway, the rest got killed
by guns, diseases, famine or in boats that capsized,
they walk around with AKs, bazookas, grenades and what not...

Remember Hasaan? He used to sell pots
Man, his whole family got shot,
they couldn't pay gangsters, he is the only one left.
No, the fishermen no longer spread their nets,

And you might have heard we recently had a drought
No supplies bro, shit! The death it brought!
and the nomads no longer graze their goats,
a few cow are left, the rest got lost.
the rain has slowed the troops south and west.
the Weaver bird no longer builds her nest,
and birds wail, they no longer sing like the rest.

Yes, it still floods here, adding to the tragedies.
grain is all eaten, kids no longer bury seeds.
Remember the sweet sounds? The whistling of the winds?
well, the winds are still there, but there are no trees.
they became firewood, got sold at Moqdishu,
The rest made charcoal, ported off kismayu.
We no longer sit around fires and recite, do you?

You should see the beaches, they are still beautiful man!
Though sometimes they wash up bodies of dead men,
women looking for peace, die with their children.
I have no words to describe mothers' eyes and pain.
When they watch their sons' lives waste and end
Few have managed to escape, they now live in camps
Yea, good neighbors set up few Daadabs,
but citizens still treat them like crap,
Even some muslim brothers treat them like scam.
You should visit the camps man, they're filled with grime.
Life there is not worth a dime
our girls are raped, we hear that everytime.
you can fell hatred from locals anytime.
Yes bro, they think all we know is crime.
You can feel their thoughts "your fallen state is yours
we are doing well, don't bring failure to ours "

You asked about poetry? Its almost dead
The poets just compose melodies in their heads
the beautiful hand Downs? Just few strands
No one recites them, Fuck times are hard!
injustice is everywhere but no one stands
Against it.boy that'll leave you dead
you won't be the first to bleed for being heard
And we won't mourn, tears have all been shed.

Buildings have holes, all bullet riddled,
some are empty shells, blown away by a grenade.
if you are sick here, we'll watch get dead,
we'll sit around your mat, no one affords a bed.
oh, and the expectant mothers, some labour to death.
And satan no longer stabs children, he now kills 'em,
Tears them apart, our work is to bury them.
plus gangsters are forcing us to shoot for them
they killed old men for refusing, Yes they did!!
they say Janna awaits you, if your heart gets stopped,
so should I kill brothers and call that jihad??
is that jihad? not from the little I've heard. ..

I wrote long, to say what it is like here,
If I wrote everything, it'd take a whole year
we will overcome this, we will persevere
But don't forget where you're from, even over there.
I believe one day we will attain peace,
our children will sing, dance and swim in the seas.
Pass my regards to all brothers and sisters,
Tell them to visit one of these days.
We still miss y'all, and love you like always
and bro, quit smoking blunts,whatever that is.