consigned

to be consigned to a role 

to be continually told

who are you 

what you believe 

man, let me tell you

it will force you to dig deep 

to try to retrieve 

your true self, 

(truth)

to be branded

to be reprimaded

to be told who you are

now we're leaving you 

your terminology,
your assumptions

so far so far so far

behind

see, what we're tryna find

-is proper deep-

yeah, so you just keep 

doing what your doing, 

keep tryna brand

for you'll never truly understand

what we're about

'cause well, you don't wanta

-peace out-

human worth

all them dreams I had

it was them dreams 

that drove me mad

but boy was I glad 

when you came into

the picture, I never

pictured it happening 

and of course now 

its just another thing

a fading memory 

a barrier between you 

and me and everyone 

else on this earth

-more than inexplicable-

our human worth

Mogadishu

Mogadishu, 

lady I will miss you 

something fierce

though really we're just strangers

I could see us being so much more 

I wonder why; I never saw

this coming

dirt and a flower

she saw him again

looking so lowly 

crossing Waterloo Bridge

for I think he must've 

really really really liked her

yeah he must have, 

'cause he gave her a flower

and when he dug up the trench

he threw dirt her way

and a bit of Roman brick

a homeless man in his mid

-twenties, yeah he was 

broken a bit

but she couldn't sit 

down and talk to him

 and try to make him whole

for there were too many holes

black ones, scary ones

deep ones, 

the man from Holland

he won't give up, 

not on you, my dear

(and I don't blame him)

floating words

floating words

it's time, 

I think to bring them back 

because the words I hear, 

man they be truly whack! 

They be out of this world

man them words, they swirled 

like cosmos, 

like galaxies on fire, 

like deep and dark hollows

the words swallow and consume

 the afterthought looms, for longer than a while.

yeah, the conversations I share with you 

and you and you and you, 

those conversations

man swear down they blew

my mind and I get it now

I get it, its not about understanding 

it's about not reprimanding

it's about space

physical and mental: inner and outer

it's about space!

orientalist fantasies

mate, you can keep 

your orientalist fantasies

to yourself, yeah cos we be

so sick of you 

-wastemen-

yeah, we'll give you

till the count of ten

to disappear

to get out of here

to get out of dis place

if you don't, prepare to face

the wrath of the sisterhood

yeah, the sisterhood

you never could 

understand it, 

lemme break it down for you

what you see

is what you'll never get

ma sisters and I 

we'll never let

you anywhere near

d'you hear? 

so do yourself a favour
and just disappear

-keepin' it real-

(muslim real)

Moses

Go down Moses

Way down to Egypt land

tell old Pharaoh

to let my people go!

Back then Moses didn't quite know

how to proceed

and before he took his leave

he uttered 'Lord open up my 

chest and remove all imperfections

so that when I speak 

they may understand me'

little did Moses know then 

he would one day arrive at a sea

and lay down his staff 

and the sea would split into two halves

and he would lead

the children of Israel 

to the promised land/ to freedom

before he would leave them 

to seek out the Lord again. 

Moses a shepherd

he led the herd

the lessons he learnt 

then, made him the great prophet

he became. Moses you gained

so much more than you believed possible

for with the One nothing is im-
anything

a hospital reverie/ it was real

the strangest situations

I don't quite know 

how I come to find myself 

in the strangest situations

(though they're not strange at all)

naaah, I feel right at home

in a hospital ward 

in a room full 

of beautiful somali women

all fierce, and with each a shared 

history

some stranger then others

-histories-

in Hammersmith 

and thunder and lightning 

and fat drops of rain, nordic rain

not here, not in Hammersmith

the smell of earth,
yeah I caught a whiff 

we all agree, we all laugh like we

are real sisters, like none of that 

distance and animosity exists

but it does, sadly, but we're here for you,
queen, infected blood

the queen 

she's still smiling 

despite her trials

it will be a long while 

before she stops/ smiling, inshAllah

love, we're here for you
of course we are
just look how far
we've some

oh I don't quite know how to 

take it

a hug, some flowers-

shared hours, to be part of the Diaspora 

to know Hergaisa, to feel like you belong

to the land of poets and in a room

with beautiful somali sisters

oh and the river and the rain 

and the bus and my brain 

it's melting again tonight

and in alternate world
we would be clowning around

in china town

by the wetlands, the museum too 

I had a dream about you

I had a dream about you

(was it in the hospital?)

to and fro/ nobody will ever know

emails

to and fro

but do you really know

what they mean 

-are you able- 

are you really able to read

between the lines,

between the lines

if only you could say 

what you really had to say

to keep them raging feelings at bay 

to keep her from leaving

from going so far away 

-send-

communication 

 so so so so so inadequate

so so so so so so much of the time

I hope you pluck up the courage girl

to say what's on your mind

don't worry about the consequences

for the truth shall set you free

you gotta do it for yourself girl 

you can't rely on me

you can't rely on me

but I'm here for you, forever. 

abide by me

Lord, abide by me

I'd like to confide in Thee

-everything/ ness-

the whole beautiful mess

Lord, these days I feel less 

troubled and more alive

it's because I've arrived 

at a conclusion. 

Lord I been living life 

inside of a delusion

for the past six months 

but enough is enough

and You already know why

but it confounds me still

I ain't gonna lie

Lord, I still don't understand 

the sweetness of pain

if only through it I could gain

-something-/ if only I could gain
closeness with You

growing closer

growing closer each day

it's hard for me to come to terms 

with the fact 

that you won't be around

yeah, 'course I wanta see you happy

but you were a source of mine

look ignore me,
ignore me when I whine

look love, go your own way

I know we'll meet again some day
I know this isn't the end of us
so lets just enjoy our remaining time
-together-

Joseph

Joseph said 

the devil sowed discord 

between my brothers and I

despite the fact that they had told 

the gravest of lies

despite the fact they 

threw him in a well

despite the fact 

he spent years in a cell

-no bitterness/ none-

just real knowledge

understanding: forgiveness

the devil sowed discord

between my brothers and I 

man, it gets me every time.

one final ode to the museum

-to go back-

to write it down/ to go back

for it's gotta be found

to go back/ before i forget

to go back/ before I let

it slide and keep moving on

yeah I got it all pictured in my head

I'll go back, hand in my out-dated ID

-hood over head, I'll go see dippy

real quick and exchange a few words

get lost in a crowd, try to figure it out,
whether or not I was

actually ever there, yeah 

and I'll see blue whale too

and man, to go back

one last time, to fulfil 

a dumb poetic prophecy/
a strange outdated philosophy 

this picture in my head

yeah I'll avoid them shops

yeah I'll stand at the top
(where I used to stand)
and look down at the dots

the dots that are people
-epiphany-
yeah
ima still waiting for it to come to me

how she rolls

she couldn't decide 

whether to go 

as a ghostbuster 

or bob marly the rasta

in the end she donned

a plastic paint suit 

and a piece of a hoover

dis be da newer 

80's stylio

-and rolled on out-

so much more than I am

coming to terms 

with the fact

that I never really cared

I was just trying to fill the emptiness, 

the emptiness
 I feared

it would never disappear 

I feared
it would always be there

nonetheless 

why am I bothered 

when I never was when it mattered

as a matter of fact, 

I didn't care

why is it, that now I bare 

the brunt of that not-caring 

yeah, trying still 

to figure out
why I am 

the way I am 

when I know I can 

be so much more 

than this

H is for a Halima

H is for Happiness

H is for you

H is for hanging out 

in the prayer room

first there 

and now here

yeah we've prayed 

pretty much everywhere

H is for our Hikes, 

avril lavigne and fearless 

yeah and don't forget 

Jess' hot appearance :-D

H is for the hour

we walked by the sand

by the river, 

d'you remember when the big Hand

hit nine and the bells began to chime

-some kind of sublime-

H is for history; yeah history, 

you know more about it than me

but ours has been,
pretty happy

don't you agree?

anyway, 

thanks H for making my day

my week, 

thanks H for listening to me speak

about all sorts of strange stuff

you're the best mate ever, 

so glad fate brought us together

On dis ting

Man, I'm on dis ting

I'ma lay everything 

on the table 

cos even though

I be mentally unstable 

I'm still able 

to utilise 

each and every skill 

man, ima kill 

see I found the will

to rise, to rise, to rise

to keep rising

now I'm realising 

I got what it takes 

to make, a real difference

I'ma make work 

work for me

do what I can to see

it through, before I leave

I swear I'ma leave

my mark. I'ma work hard

so hard, to establish

the frameworks for your success

and maybe mine too

Man, I'ma see dis ting though

proper (inshAllah)

still here, still suffering

lord i'm suffering 

i'm dying inside

lord, i'm suffering

I just wanta hide

forever and ever and ever

because no matter what they'll never

get it. get this 

lord they be wrong 

so wrong, I long 

for someone to understand 

i ain't depressed 

i ain't lowly

i'm just sick 

lord I never been sicker

and when I hear them snicker

at my pain, when I hear them blame

me: the joke, I choke

lord i be choking a million times a day 

lord what I got, it won't go away

malaise? no lord its real 

so real, lord i feel 

so entirely unwell 

and of course I just go on living

(but not really living)

lord, I pretend I'm okay 

but you know in truth

I'm so far from okay

lord, I spend so much of the day

mending their problems, 

trying to fix their souls 

when my whole 

being is being

impossible 

my head hurts, my heart hurts

my lungs are polluted and I'm choking 

lord it ain't mental 

I ain't mental

I'm just sick

lord I wish

I had someone to talk to 

but the people I talk to 

they never get it 

and I want them to so bad

lord, I've had 

enough, lord how can I explain 

in a way that'll make them feel the pain

 if I can't I'm no writer 

lord, I'm trying so hard

to do my best 

but I can't overcome it 

lord why can't I get through this one test

its going on and on and on 

it comes back with a vengeance

lord its like i got a life sentence 

of pain. lord i don't know the name 

of this thing I got. 

I think I'm the only one 

in this whole wide world 

who's ever experienced it

and it makes me feel so lonely

knowing that, and feeling this way

lord for now I got nothing more to say 

except this 

please take away my suffering

please take away my suffering

I'm up against a hard blustering 

wind and it's tryna blow me away,

against a force so strong

I'm still tryna stay

rooted, but lord it's hard 

but so am I. yeah I know I am. 

Lord please- I wanta be at ease. 

please, please please

lord, make it go away.

behind glass

to live life

in a glass box

a kind of prism 

kind of an odd schism 

the ecclesiastical kind

kind of non-aligned

hmm...

yeah, sometimes I think 

I'm only writing for me, 

but I'm not, to a degree

I'm writing for you, yeah you

stranger behind a screen

now what does that mean

hmm....

sort of uncomfortable

you say, for both you and I 

I wonder why, yeah I wonder why

hmm...

I wonder what you see 

when you look inside of me

my life, my heart, my soul

I've carved out a hole,
a window into my mind.
I wonder what you find

when you look in.

hmm....

self obsessed? 

yeah I confess,
I am a bit 

too caught up 

in the mystery of me

to really see, 

what exists on the outside.

yellow painting

I found you waiting 

under that abstract yellow painting 

in the canteen, our old meeting 

place. I'd join you, back then and we'd waste

hours, no, not waste, we'd spend

time, worthwhile time together

we'd start again from where we left off

talking, talking, talking

about the things that set our hearts on fire

yeah we would never tire, of talking

we'd talk about philosophy and faith 

and life and I swear you changed mine

I think I changed yours too. Yeah I believe

you're the reason I'm here now

exactly where I am, over bread and soup

under that abstract yellow painting 

we talked about making, 

our mark in this world 

-Costello and Niazi-

you in the far North and me in the far South

here/ but still I know there 

is so much more to come of us both

-God willing-

not a window

-not a window-

a bubble 

cling film

glorified air

to believe-

to believe in someone else

to believe there's somewhere else

to believe there exists something else

maybe at the bottom of a water well 

in lower juba, to believe that huda

is bringing about change, real change

that life won't remain the same 

for those beautiful people

-sometimes, you just gotta believe-

don't sweat it

hey man

don't even sweat it

i understand

I just wish I could help you land

something better 

I just wish I could help you 

somehow, 

the way you helped me though

back when I was in need

you're almost as hard to read

as this one book I wrote

called 'this restless soul;

you are too? man I already knew

that, s'why you my best mate

s'why fate 

brought us together. 

certain somali brother

thank you

for the kindest words

I've heard in months

blessed, to have met you 

I bet you 

we'll meet again 

in the not so distant future.

green fingers

the three of us talking 

about sailors and tying knots

don't get any funny ideas

these knots are the real kind

rope an' all, yeah she's got 

the sickest ever job 

I miss that craziness

those crazy folk, 

them green green fingers

them messed up jokes

sure yeah, I could try again

but nah, I don't fink so. 

grey eyes

he looked right at her

as he took a drag of his cigarette

one evening; she stopped breathing

the model from the fashion show

and she ran away, grey grey 

eyes, find her again

-that girl-

another crazy daisy

what a day, shit man 

crazy as hell 

a letter from a cell 

who do I tell 

that she's going to Mogadishu

and my best mates grieving 

cos well, she might also be leaving

to go Hergaisa 

(sooner rather than later)

how did that happen? 

and the stories by the river

by the girl who created holes

in that place, 

where the planes are so low

and the bulls are so ochre, 

yeah that lonely place

and that random guy

you met and so did I  

kind of, boy wanderer

wandering home along the river

and a hours later a car crash 

old man, shouted out so rash

you prick, don't go any where

and I swear, amidst the madness

my heart went psycho again 

but somehow I made it 

-the story of life-

you'd never say so

a million poems inside 

but I don't have the strength to write

them down, ink on paper

maybe I'll find the strength 

to jot them down later....

....if they don't disappear 

into the abyss

yeah my words remain shrouded 

in a thick mist

a fog and I hate it

walking into that office

feeling so disconnected

from them all

and from me and from reality 

I take my shoes off, everyday

whilst ignoring everyone

whilst laughing with that one

true friend;
progress, I guess. 

yeah I guess she's all I need 

she's just like me 

but I'm dying still, but I'm losing the will

I'm getting closer to the edge

but see I made this pledge 

I pledged to not give in this time

to the meta-physical grime

to the psycho bells that chime

-i'd rather be you than me-

if only you understood my reality

you would never say so

rubber stamps

and it's the joy

you find in real life

the joy of being free

like the rubber stamps 

imprinting them deep sea

creatures, 

the scuba diver/ the child within 

was a writer

yes, stamps

Blue Peter competitions and 

smART and art 

attack

ah to bring childhood back 

to spend time in the shed

with those cheap colour pencils 

and deep sea stamps

technological enslavement

hmm

technological 

enslavement 

-this-

it's kind of a debasement

of real communication

don't you think?

(lost)

better then, to be without?

better then, to just go about 

speaking out loud

in person

immersion 

-of real sound-

human to human

voice to voice

face to face

it leaves you no choice

but to be 

kind of present

don't you agree?

kind of like

text message

-sent-

but where it went

who knows

outer space, those waves

they just keep travelling

on and on
and on and on

until they bounce back along

a dead end, a garbage shoot

(better yet, to stay mute) 

kind of like

text message sent

sure, but listen

it kind of went bent

and 

that ain't me

waiting endlessly 

for a reply
on and on and on 

I don't know why

I did that

-waited-

cos I never do 

I never wait

I never care

I create my own fate

one that doesn't rely 

on flimsy waves

invisible/ unreal

it makes slaves

of the free

so now to be 

without, 

hmm, that sounds
pretty good to me
(for a while at least)