Somalia- The Nation of Poets (TNP) has officially compiled over 1,000 poems written by fierce, passionate, talented young Somalis from North America to Europe to Africa and all the way to Asia. The poems on TNP touch upon various themes relevant to the Somali diaspora. TNP has featured poems about Islam, to what goes into the formation of one's identity, to war poems, to poems about Somali men and women, and about our fathers and mothers, to yearning for homeland and Africa, to the struggles of being an immigrant, to ramadan poems, to love and poems on heartbreak, and everything in between! Some of the poets are as young as 8 and others slightly older ;)<3

Group Poem 25 (War Poems): Bullet to your gun

I can be the bullet to your gun

I can be the suicide bomber

I can be the snake of your country

That’s who I can be

I am the star of your flag

I am the silent leader

I am the melody to your anthem

That’s who I am

I can be the pirate of your ocean

I can be the terrorist of your land

I can be the serial killer of your innocent people

That’s who I can be

Waxaan ahay ubaxa dadkayga

[I am the flower of my people)

Waxaan ahay dahabka dulkayga

[I am the gold of my land]

I am the formation of your land

I am the end of war, beginning of peace

Asha Ahmed (15 years old)

Copyright © 2012

*Thanks to sister Nimo Yusuf who encouraged this young teenager to write a poem and then send it to me!

Group Poem 25 (War Poems): City & Colour

Taste the flavour

of this city and colour –

railing against her fate

is it really too late ?

Memories faded like the chimney smoke ,

burnt is the past, you survived the stroke .

“Why does it hurt ?”

the art of the human heart .

Those moments of imprisonment ,

consumed by doubts . . .

“Please help me to break out !”

When and where, who has been haunted ?

Each line and verse foretold, conducted

to enlighten hazy memories . . .

discomfort of mind and body, the misery !

It struck a whole nation over night ,

hostility between brothers let us stride .

Towards a tomorrow ,

shrouded in sorrow .

Emptiness we cannot explain .

Pain, tell me if we can ever trust again .

Feel the shimmer of the city lights . . .

the city of sorrow breathing through the night . . .

Melodious is the firework by the grenade . . .

those moments when you try to evade . . .

the pain that quenches the thirst for life . . .

Silence, you could have cut the air with a knife . . .

“I want to survive” strength of will became second nature !

Taste the flavour

of this city and colour –

yearning to see her new-born ,

is there a rose without a thorn ?

The emotions rose to a hurricane force ,

if only I’ve been left with a choice !

Longing for her children far faraway ,

“I miss you to this very day !”

I had no heart if I did not embrace you, White Pearl –

your soil coloured the feet of your daughter, when she was a young girl .

I see those eyes that touch your soul with every smile .

Sincerity, have you seen it with your very own eyes ?

Something as precious cannot be described ,

few things has to be lived, when the time is ripe .

That perfect harmony, that sigh of relief expressed in her countenance .

Shimmer in her eyes, sincerely wording, rewriting her life at the other end .

Sometimes you have to live through the ugly . . .

to appreciate the beauty . . .

you have been surrounded by for so long . . .

a hardened heart is . . . a pity . . . but you keep holding on .

Rising with the stars ,

distant is the horizon, we seem so far .

Keeping a safe distance, paralysed with fear ,

afraid we couldn’t bear the misery here .

Responsibility is a heavy burden ,

an upright frame that became a hurdle !

H o m e, the place where the earth’s surface and the sky still meet ,

a tedious journey back to intense feelings and heat !

Looking back at life, the past events and my concern ,

leave behind a trace of hope, there is a beaten path that leads to a return . . .

to this city and colour –

Taste its flavour .

inspired by Amaal Said

Pen 'N' Paper

Copyright © 2012

The world dragged me to my knees

Wie der Ruf der Sterne,

schimmert meine Hoffnung in der Ferne.

Sie erzählen, alles wird sich ergeben,

wie oft lag ich daneben.

Das Lächeln deiner Generation,

der Ruf von Zuversicht hat meine Faszination.

In the open air,

exposed to her stare -

you read every single line.

‘How did his burden become mine?’

Life and me were not closely acquainted.

Who remembers the echo when we fainted?

Sensitive is the one touched

by memories, the summer haze brushed

from the shoulders of the past.

Who was willing to make it last,

those tales close at hand.

Would you ever understand,

if I told you how they began,

would I begin to comprehend,

my own journey and its destiny?

Those tales of the stranger in me,

who feels resentful about everything we break.

Left in pieces, what is left to take

from this, where old habits return.

‘This is all he has come to…’ is all you learn,

from those who don’t weigh the words on their tongue.

You used to be the storm after the peaceful calm.

Destructive, seems every single letter -

‘Constructive is sincerity…’ it was never a minor matter.

Eager to please,

you finally cease.

Clarity is all you lacked.

Hoping to find back,

to those roots that took root

in my memories…(when everything seemed so good).

"Share with me that 'One in a lifetime monologue’

that monologue sharing with me those worries,

that little hope that switches from time to time,

that Somali written in English,

that English inspired by Somali,

that hope inspired by worries,

those worries swallowed by hope.

I want you to ask me, 'What moved you to do so?'

I want you to tell me where I went wrong.

I want you to ask me about motivation and having a motive.

I want you to tell me that it is okay.

I want you to know that I am just a man with more flaws than any other man.

I want to know if I ever get the chance to get to know you.

I want you to know that they need you,

I want you to tell me, ‘Do not forget where you came from.’

I want you to remind me,

that you and that me,

that you call mine.

Remind me of the land with the valley vast and beautiful.

The arid landscape brought back to life by the colourful.

The colourful gown & pride of your women,

pride worn with modesty and a smile,

the accessory shared across both hemisphere.

‘How far are you willing to go to find an answer?’

‘What do you know about yourself?

Give me an answer truly calming the storm in my soul.

Tell me, that you and I deserve it.

Show me, that we deserve it.

Brother & sister in faith, by mankind, in humanity.

Let’s take one sincere step towards each other,

one sincere gesture.”

Yours truly,

Mr.The-world-dragged-me-to-my-knees - "I just need to breathe, pause for a second. Holding onto things for years, that I do not comprehend."

Do not stop believing.

Somalia.

Pen 'N' Paper

Copyright © 2012

Appreciation (*)

Appreciation is my dedication

I hope I dedicate to give peace to my nation

Create sense in a dream, it needs to be awakened

I was awake for some days, and..

Thinking about the tools that will move fools out in a dark end

We born with a heart, so don't pretend!

Love the things for your friends as same as the things for yourself

Appreciate the good and the worst times

Memories live forever

Like a candle that never goes off it brings true light of better

And its better to realise what you have is temporary, it doesn't last forever

They say we; "Young forever" living for materialistic wishes

They sing songs to stay young together

So blind, I feel ready guns are penetrating my longs can't hold the urine in my bladder

Its so natural to appreciate

So edible are true feelings

Glass shinning lights on the ceiling

What a metaphor

I'm so better for, the simple things in life

A brother who holds your rights

A sister that knows your dreams

And a dream that becomes reality

I believe in that dignity

I'm digging the picture but the image is pinching me

Why say never is never

Then why is it not meant to be?

Is fate not invisible like time

And is Karma not like the guardian of low waters such in a running stream

So when ones drowning in his sleep

He can be freed if his soul was in peace

In the end, Its only for God to judge

Is it hard to let go the steady hold of grudge

Bunch of flowers for the dead, will not get them back

But it will show respect

Bunch of flowers to forgive, will live to be different

Different to be wiser

Different to take a distant of the wicked

Slang used by kids, to say a good witch is wicked

Some play innocent but deep down inside grows sickness

You just a misfit!

You don't fit in!

You been abused by your bullies

But you came first in the bloody race

I see life as a driving aim

Everyone is on the steering wheel to for fill their aims

The rich smell of petrol made them faint

Monopoly Politics, we like puppets in a game

But to God, we are valued slaves at birth

Yes, we are all equal as humans but differ in ways, we choose our lanes

So may the richer shake hands with the poor, and explore similarity in symptoms

True kingdom of justice and understanding

We just standing in box to hear each confession

Not taking lessons of the lesser

Cuz, struggle in the feet makes good practise

Appreciate each blessing

Depression was not an escape

It was mainly being locked down lonely in a cave

Panicking surroundings around your body that screams, pain!

And I want to believe and appreciate

Rainy tears, they integrate on top of your face

Then it dries up, the weather changes like a mood

Seasons are perfected to unify and to open eyes

Evil eyes are in to divide the good that lies inside

I'm not on about lies that show pride

This heart speaks real of a cause

Of course I do it for Africa

Me don't want to fall off my course

Mother nature needs some patience to regroup her sons cuz they lost

What a shame

Some die to get fame

And some find burning love in someone

That's a soul mate to die for

All my love and trust is packed in one

I'm humbled by her tender care and her daring love

I don't need an applause

I just need a build nest near her soul

Cuz of her heart I adore the motivation she sends through my bedroom door

My dreams will let some minds think

Martin Luther King, let me spring in the spring water

And give some Zamzam water to

Malcolm X

I hope one X will not make a trio

And end with sex

So lost in society, I say this planet has more piety than its context

He keeps wanking on the net

While I'm stressed up to make a change

I give away what they take away, no Robin Hood

Young brothers want to dress up like a wolf and be hood

They think they are misunderstood

I think not everything is understood

But you know what's good, when are in your grave and it lights up for angels who congratulate!

That's when you know your praise to the One where not in vain

Don't let some whispers make you go insane!

Try to pray like this is your last day

5 am, you still awake, tears led you to wait for the morning prayer

So excited to communicate with your Lord

Trust, true winners are believers

So appreciate yourself

Don't loose it or abuse it

Believe in all the bad sides that forms the weak

Before appreciating the good which defines you as unique

Ahmed D

Copyright 2012  

MOTHER THE TRUE STORY

do you see the chaos ?!

pitch darkness !

the eye of the storm she is!!

scratching 

digging

fighting

in that cave 

i can see the bleeding cuts on her hands

the sweat on her body

the heavy breaths  laden by time 

but she keeps 

digging 

fighting 

chanting 

not listening to the mourning of the owls,

the blood river from the altar

or the greedy bats

look! how the pain,fear and grief are standing there desperate ?!

trying to understand 

how she is not seeing the unbearable ?!

how her eyes are hooked up with 

the bright light of the beautiful day ,

the sweaty hands rebuilding the city?! 

the joy behind the mask of sadness

incomprehensible!

how she found the way 

let the others pass she say !

how slefless 

damn it is slefless 

but this is how her soul darned together 

since the dawn of creation 

the well of mercy and passion 

she is 

a hope anthem 

a way to freedom 

a love sanctum

she is my Mother !

your Mother

she is a Mother !

a gift from God 

truly she is!!!

when our Prophet peace be upon him tried to explain and make it understandable

how Allah showers his mercy on His creations , he choosed the mother's mercy and love to her child as example ..coz nothing is comprable to that in the human world so May Allah bless my mother and grant her jannat al ferdous and all the mothers amiin  .

to all the mother suffering out there , in refugee camps , under the unhuman conditions, in the ruthless cities , struck by poverty  we pray for them..yes we pray for them.

LAST WORD IN THE MIDDLE OF YOUR BUSY LIFE , TRY TO CHERISH EVERY MOMENT WITH YOUR MOTHER  , COZ ONE DAY ONE OF U WILL NOT BE AROUND PERMANENTLY .

Ismail A. Ali

Copyright © 2012

Nuura

There is so much of her in me 

This woman. 

Stood proud. 

Head dress forming an earthly hallo 

About her voluptuous frame. 

Her name is Nuura. 

And she is light. 

Forever radiant. 

I have bathed in her

sparkle Basked in the twinkle of her love

 And learnt the pains of a woman’s womb- 

Broken whispers of almost babies 

That made her lament And retreat into herself

 Like a broken angel 

Or an angelic human 

Whispering in virtuous calm- 

Bismillahi rahmani raheem. 

They said that bleeding 

Would make me a woman 

And loving a man 

Would make me bleed 

A different kind of love. 

She taught me that blood

 Could also break a woman

 And that tears 

Made even angles human. 

That humans- 

Sometimes came in the form of demons-

 And demons- sometimes looked like friends. 

That forgiveness

 Make’s the broken -whole

 And the secret to happiness

 Lay in gentle remembrances of Laa illaha illallaah. 

The velvety chuckles Of man and wife. 

And in the soft caresses between mother child. 

Between her 

and I. 

There is no woman

 Like her. 

Her name is Nuura. 

And she is light.

 Forever radiant. 

Farah Gabdon

Copyright © 2009

Tribute to Arfa Karim Randhawa - Elegy

It is a mournful day for the black and white,

As the inevitable death snatched miss Arfa Karim like a kite,

Without forewarning us arrange for her mourning rite.

She was not snatched but taken away by the Almighty God,

The powerful Creator and the Benevolent lord,

I ask Him to forgive me for employing "snatch" that is odd.

We burry her body for today,

But carry her legacy every day,

And keep her name without nay.

Let us all mourn and cry,

At once weep and sigh,

To the gifted soul say goodbye.

Let us attend her funeral without my,

Attire not formal clothing and tie,

But for prayer take our hands high.

Avoiding faults, abstain from saying fie,

Dropping sorrowful tears from eye to eye!

As we are all like the feeling of one guy!

Shush! I am sending condolence,

To her parents and siblings in confidence,

I am sharing the pain with them in patience.

May Allah rehouse her in paradise!

As He made her active and wife,

And awarded her ingeniousness as prize.

Not only Pakistan lost Arfa Karim Randhawa,

But she is mourned for in the heart of Somalia,

All over around the world, here and there.

Her manner outgoing and genial,

Her conduct well-behaved and desirable,

And in thinking, genius and intellectual.

Her smiling attractive and admirable,

Her colour arresting and invariable,

In technology, inventive and reliable.

Her shape slim and beautiful,

Her height medium and wonderful,

Her vision innovative and powerful.

At school, she was so bright and brilliant,

At home, she was acceptable and obedient,

And to her nation, she was lovable and compliant.

To the world, she was creative and significant,

To her peers, she was a role model and a knight,

And to the Muslims, she was productive and important.

Mohamed Abdikaadir Daud (Stanza)

Copyright © 2012

Mohamed Abdikadir (Stanza) who is a Somali Poet and author based in Khartoum where he is pursuing Postgraduate studies in Peace and Development Studies mourns for the sudden death of the award-winning Pakistani genius and the World's Youngest Microsoft Certified Professional, Arfa Karim Randhawa, who passed away on 14th January, 2012.