Shafiq Husayn - "Lil' Girl" Feat. Fatima & Stephen "Thundercat" Bruner from gregthedude on Vimeo.
Wednesday 16 December 2009
Thursday 3 December 2009
Tuesday 1 December 2009
Style Icon: Adam from 'Adam and the Ants'
Adam from 'Adam and the Ants' is one of the most original to have ever done it. Think about the amount of folks who jock his style now.
Weekly 'Later...with Jools Holland' clip.
Wow it's been months since my last couple of 'Later...' entries.
This is for my big sis Dream who posted this up for us all to inhale&then hold our breaths.
Corinne is so beautiful.
This is for my big sis Dream who posted this up for us all to inhale&then hold our breaths.
Corinne is so beautiful.
Thursday 26 November 2009
Friday 20 November 2009
Object of desire...
£200.00. Topshop. How long have I will been a loyal customer?Hmmph
*Must save for trip....*
*Must save for trip....*
Thursday 19 November 2009
Sanaa Lathan x Honey Mag x Mr Hudson
I interviewed the beautiful Sanaa Lathan who is one of my favourite actresses in London last week. Look out for the interview on Honeymag.com real soon!
Also will be covering Kanye West's protege, the awesome Mr Hudson in the next few days!
Also will be covering Kanye West's protege, the awesome Mr Hudson in the next few days!
MR HUDSON "White Lies" Directed by: NABIL from nabil elderkin on Vimeo.
Thursday 29 October 2009
Altern8tive Means Mag issue number 2
'Art of life' issue
To check out my interview with designer Melody Ehsani. I did this at the end of 08 but delays in the mag's site led to it being put up now. :)
Or my article on the truth behind Somali Pirates.
CLICK HERE
To check out my interview with designer Melody Ehsani. I did this at the end of 08 but delays in the mag's site led to it being put up now. :)
Or my article on the truth behind Somali Pirates.
CLICK HERE
Insha'Allah next week I'm...
...Interviewing and shooting some of my favourite people in the world....
Sa-Ra Creative partners (Om'Mas Keith, Taz Arnold and Shafiq Husayn)
If you dont know their work....
They've worked with everyone from Erykah Badu, Bilal, Dr Dre to Jay Electronica. Basically....they're dope.
Sa-Ra Creative partners (Om'Mas Keith, Taz Arnold and Shafiq Husayn)
If you dont know their work....
They've worked with everyone from Erykah Badu, Bilal, Dr Dre to Jay Electronica. Basically....they're dope.
Thursday 6 August 2009
I miss my Dad.
Sounds so pitiful but I do. He's away in Somalia doing him, probably fidgeting with his glasses right now.
So I'm re-reading Social Anthropology by Edmund Leach right now. For Dad.
So I'm re-reading Social Anthropology by Edmund Leach right now. For Dad.
Is MJ really dead?It still hasn't sunk in.
Pretty Flaco does his tribute, his rendition of 'Billie Jean'- Moonwalk and all. I like.
Tuesday 21 July 2009
Friday 3 July 2009
D.C. NYC said goodbye.
I haven't had time to blog properly.
I'm in D.C.
My second home.
I'm happy.
Alhamdulilah.
I hope you all are.
x
I'm in D.C.
My second home.
I'm happy.
Alhamdulilah.
I hope you all are.
x
Wednesday 17 June 2009
3.36 am
I'm at my Aunt's house.
Her brother, (my Uncle) past away the day before last back home in Africa. May Allah SWT have mercy on his soul, amiin.
We're all here.
The window slightly open with cool air cupping my neck.
I drew two new dress designs that I'm going to cut tomorrow.
I'm slurping on honey nut cheerios.
Staring occasionally to my left at my cousins who are sleeping.
They are two statuesque young ladies positioned beautifully in bunkbeds that they outgrew and left years ago.
I'm re-evaluating things.
Looking to decisions I made and things I've said, most notably last weekend.
I know I made the right decision.
Can I be honest?
This life startles me.
It's pace.
It's blinding glare and then how it lulls to something so translucently soft.
Subhan'Allah.
Allah SWT knows best.
Always.
Her brother, (my Uncle) past away the day before last back home in Africa. May Allah SWT have mercy on his soul, amiin.
We're all here.
The window slightly open with cool air cupping my neck.
I drew two new dress designs that I'm going to cut tomorrow.
I'm slurping on honey nut cheerios.
Staring occasionally to my left at my cousins who are sleeping.
They are two statuesque young ladies positioned beautifully in bunkbeds that they outgrew and left years ago.
I'm re-evaluating things.
Looking to decisions I made and things I've said, most notably last weekend.
I know I made the right decision.
Can I be honest?
This life startles me.
It's pace.
It's blinding glare and then how it lulls to something so translucently soft.
Subhan'Allah.
Allah SWT knows best.
Always.
Tuesday 16 June 2009
Tupac's bday.
I located an article I read a while back where Plug 2 of De La Soul made a really valid point about artists and linked it in to what made Tupac so real.
Plug 2 "An artist does a disservice when he doesn’t show the other side of his life. He does a disservice to hip hop’s growth, understanding and respect when he doesn’t talk about things like attending college and only talks about the struggle in the hood. He might not talk about how he loves his grandparents or important things in his life. I think he does a disservice when he only talks about one message—he is only being true to one of his selves. And vice versa, I’d like to hear all those conscious rappers talk about all the mischief they’ve done. Some of the artists out there who seem so positive and so in love with black women are out there cheating. Let’s really be true to ourselves. That will let hip hop grow."
"Tupac, he talked about his struggles and his successes. He talked about being a thug and loving his mother. When an artist isn’t afraid to speak his heart and soul, you will see excellence and greatness in whatever he does. If he only shows one side and hides the other three, he’s cheating us."
Happy Birthday Tupac
Plug 2 "An artist does a disservice when he doesn’t show the other side of his life. He does a disservice to hip hop’s growth, understanding and respect when he doesn’t talk about things like attending college and only talks about the struggle in the hood. He might not talk about how he loves his grandparents or important things in his life. I think he does a disservice when he only talks about one message—he is only being true to one of his selves. And vice versa, I’d like to hear all those conscious rappers talk about all the mischief they’ve done. Some of the artists out there who seem so positive and so in love with black women are out there cheating. Let’s really be true to ourselves. That will let hip hop grow."
"Tupac, he talked about his struggles and his successes. He talked about being a thug and loving his mother. When an artist isn’t afraid to speak his heart and soul, you will see excellence and greatness in whatever he does. If he only shows one side and hides the other three, he’s cheating us."
Happy Birthday Tupac
Monday 15 June 2009
De la 'til the death.
On Thursday I went to the 20th anniversary concert of De La Soul's debut album '3 feet high and rising' at the Camden centre in London. I had my 2 girlfriends who are on holiday from Australia with me and we had a great time watching my favs' De La do their thing. Talib Kweli even came through and graced the stage. I was dressed so lazily wrapping my head up in a Somali turban (hello 09 trends!)
Shout out to my big bro Pos for the sweaty hug that drenched me (Lol) and also for introducing me to Kweli
I'm currently trying to locate this dude who had a SLR cam and took a million shots of the performance and also backstage of us all (looking at the same lens). Until then, here is one from my friend's cam.
(Me in the middle of my two girlfriends, Pos looking like he's about to slap the back of my head)
Oh and De La Soul's latest album is for Nike run originals entitled R.U.N (are you in?) You can purchase it on iTunes. Their next album aptly titled 'You're welcome' will be released sometime this year to mark the 20th anniversary of their first album.
Shout out to my big bro Pos for the sweaty hug that drenched me (Lol) and also for introducing me to Kweli
I'm currently trying to locate this dude who had a SLR cam and took a million shots of the performance and also backstage of us all (looking at the same lens). Until then, here is one from my friend's cam.
(Me in the middle of my two girlfriends, Pos looking like he's about to slap the back of my head)
Oh and De La Soul's latest album is for Nike run originals entitled R.U.N (are you in?) You can purchase it on iTunes. Their next album aptly titled 'You're welcome' will be released sometime this year to mark the 20th anniversary of their first album.
Saturday 13 June 2009
Wednesday 10 June 2009
Sunday 7 June 2009
Mos Def's The Ecstatic....
...drops tomorrow (Monday 9th June). With the state of hiphop and all the complaints it'll be interesting to see who actually sticks true to their word and gets this.
That is all.
Goodnight.
Mos Def - "Casa Bey" - The Ecstatic - 6.9.09
That is all.
Goodnight.
Mos Def - "Casa Bey" - The Ecstatic - 6.9.09
Wednesday 3 June 2009
Monday 1 June 2009
A spider bit me.
Lower lip, left side.
I maintain that a spider did this last night.
Mother thinks otherwise since I have the flu and whatnot :-D
Coldsores suck.
Just wanted to thank Hodan, Hana, Warsan, Tam and Ladan for sharing such a beautiful day with me yesterday.
I maintain that a spider did this last night.
Mother thinks otherwise since I have the flu and whatnot :-D
Coldsores suck.
Just wanted to thank Hodan, Hana, Warsan, Tam and Ladan for sharing such a beautiful day with me yesterday.
Sunday 31 May 2009
Sacrifice.nothing.
Reaffirm your self worth.
Never settle for somebody who doesn't value themself let alone you.
You cannot 'help' them become a better person.
You cannot 'go back' to how things were.
You shouldn't change who you are/how you behave so that you do not cause offence.
If they cannot hear your sincere truth and embrace it then chances are they're running away from things that they know are true and they don't want to change.
Auntae Mimi has spoken.
Never settle for somebody who doesn't value themself let alone you.
You cannot 'help' them become a better person.
You cannot 'go back' to how things were.
You shouldn't change who you are/how you behave so that you do not cause offence.
If they cannot hear your sincere truth and embrace it then chances are they're running away from things that they know are true and they don't want to change.
Auntae Mimi has spoken.
Chaos.
My room.
Revision period.
(Peep the plate on my CDs)
Lol at Topshop, Accessorize and Matthew Williamson shopping bags (I still have time to do that)
Classy touch, no?
Revision period.
(Peep the plate on my CDs)
Lol at Topshop, Accessorize and Matthew Williamson shopping bags (I still have time to do that)
Classy touch, no?
Wednesday 27 May 2009
'Trix and that
Been bumping Tronic almost every morning. Black Milk is and will continue to be that good.
Monday 25 May 2009
Soomaaliya (Somalia)
12 weeks and 4 days Insha'Allah until we fly out to Somalia (Via Djibouti).
Excitement isn't a word I'd use to describe how I'm feeling. It's too menial a word.
Some pics from when I went in 2005 (crappy cam, beautiful people)
Excitement isn't a word I'd use to describe how I'm feeling. It's too menial a word.
Some pics from when I went in 2005 (crappy cam, beautiful people)
Nabil Elderkin pt I
My mate Nabil is a ridiculously talented video director (mostly for Kanye). What I'm in awe of though is his photography. and he knows this. Amazing x infinity.
Musicians
Musicians
Friday 22 May 2009
Ok so my girl Briana Latrise....
...punched the hell out of Emcee Charles Hamilton (her bf). He was outta line-SERIOUSLY.
I've held alot of love for this girl based on her work and also her refreshingly honest and heartfelt persona. I hope this shit doesn't take away from her work, She's talented and was doing her shit before Charles Hamilton and she'll be doing it even if he's gone. None of that groupie "Oh look she got with CH and now she's tryna take some of his shine and become a photographer"
Like I said before in a old blogpost I wrote about her , check out her work and support the sister.
Briana-I was proud to see you reciting your poetry, hope I aint to blame for telling you to vent and write poetry last month Lmao!Keep your head up!
I've held alot of love for this girl based on her work and also her refreshingly honest and heartfelt persona. I hope this shit doesn't take away from her work, She's talented and was doing her shit before Charles Hamilton and she'll be doing it even if he's gone. None of that groupie "Oh look she got with CH and now she's tryna take some of his shine and become a photographer"
Like I said before in a old blogpost I wrote about her , check out her work and support the sister.
Briana-I was proud to see you reciting your poetry, hope I aint to blame for telling you to vent and write poetry last month Lmao!Keep your head up!
Thursday 21 May 2009
This feels very good, alhamdulilah
So
New York
D.C
Toronto
Cuba
Back to London for a month
Djibouti
Somalia
Sudan
Via Djibouti again and then back to London.
All in the space of one summer?
Alhamdulilah and Insha'Allah is all I can say.
I have a exam in a hour.
Laters beautiful ones.
New York
D.C
Toronto
Cuba
Back to London for a month
Djibouti
Somalia
Sudan
Via Djibouti again and then back to London.
All in the space of one summer?
Alhamdulilah and Insha'Allah is all I can say.
I have a exam in a hour.
Laters beautiful ones.
Monday 11 May 2009
Yeah, sweet liberty and justice.
Lawyer "So what there was no DNA evidence?"
Aunt "No, none whatsoever"
*Hands over Docs statement*
Lawyer "How could this case have gone to court?Let alone be found guilty and sentenced like this if there's no evidence?This is truly flawed"
*She reads more of the statements*
Lawyer "This is really, really bad, how could they conduct a interview with a two year old?They cant string sentences like this together. It's obvious the infant had been told repeatedly to say this!?"
Me "He was 18, on his way to Uni and they've wrongly accused him and even when he's done the sentence he's still not being released?"
His Mother is one of the strongest people I've come to know recently and even though we're not related through blood it's a honour for me to call her Habaryar (Aunt in Somali)/. 21 months of Abdirahman's life behind bars that he'll never get back and he's innocent.I'm not trying to don my balacava, start pumping my Dead Prez CD and ask for revolution but this shit puts me down. As someone who is studying Law in the hopes to become a Lawyer I hope my fam and friends can see why I always said I wanted to do Commercial and deal with IP and sweaty fat men in suits.
No wrongly accused, young ,beautifully humble. black boys to cry over. Call me a coward if you wish. My heart is just so, so tired.
Aunt "No, none whatsoever"
*Hands over Docs statement*
Lawyer "How could this case have gone to court?Let alone be found guilty and sentenced like this if there's no evidence?This is truly flawed"
*She reads more of the statements*
Lawyer "This is really, really bad, how could they conduct a interview with a two year old?They cant string sentences like this together. It's obvious the infant had been told repeatedly to say this!?"
Me "He was 18, on his way to Uni and they've wrongly accused him and even when he's done the sentence he's still not being released?"
His Mother is one of the strongest people I've come to know recently and even though we're not related through blood it's a honour for me to call her Habaryar (Aunt in Somali)/. 21 months of Abdirahman's life behind bars that he'll never get back and he's innocent.I'm not trying to don my balacava, start pumping my Dead Prez CD and ask for revolution but this shit puts me down. As someone who is studying Law in the hopes to become a Lawyer I hope my fam and friends can see why I always said I wanted to do Commercial and deal with IP and sweaty fat men in suits.
No wrongly accused, young ,beautifully humble. black boys to cry over. Call me a coward if you wish. My heart is just so, so tired.
Saturday 9 May 2009
3.40 am
I'm really excited about my T-Shirt line...it's happening, Insha'Allah it's really happening early next yr. Stay posted!
Friday 8 May 2009
This is good news....
Blackthought of The Roots is a amazing actor and I have been rooting for some more thespian action from him ever since he starred in Brooklyn Babylon. In a recent interview he talks about the (mass) of film projects he has for this year, the new Roots album 'How I got over' and tours.
I'm really looking forward to what 2009 holds.
To view the whole interview click here
Thursday 30 April 2009
Sodon (Thirty)-'For De la'
Hooyo was nursing Ali
1990
I was probably wearing
That purple tutu dress
That I loved so much
Cornershop watergun in hand
When 'Me, myself and I'
Came on
Ransacking that sturdy tv
Had me transfixed
Plug one's necklace
Classroom colours
Afro-Amerikana
It was all love
Shaking and grooving
Hooyo said I nearly passed out
I still dance too hard
Fast forward 18 and a half years
Oodles of O's later
2009 is the 20th Anniversary
Of '3 ft hi..'
Tell Plug one to bring the cake
Plug two can ice it truthfully
Plug three bring the vinyls
They are:
De la soul
Whose passion and fans
See past the fame
Which other hip hop group
Can say the same?
1990
I was probably wearing
That purple tutu dress
That I loved so much
Cornershop watergun in hand
When 'Me, myself and I'
Came on
Ransacking that sturdy tv
Had me transfixed
Plug one's necklace
Classroom colours
Afro-Amerikana
It was all love
Shaking and grooving
Hooyo said I nearly passed out
I still dance too hard
Fast forward 18 and a half years
Oodles of O's later
2009 is the 20th Anniversary
Of '3 ft hi..'
Tell Plug one to bring the cake
Plug two can ice it truthfully
Plug three bring the vinyls
They are:
De la soul
Whose passion and fans
See past the fame
Which other hip hop group
Can say the same?
Last day of the 'Poetry month' challenge.
Ok so the only way I can end this is on a crescendo.
I will write about my past/present/future musical heroes De La Soul. Anyone who has known me since age 4 or been to my bedroom knows how much they mean to me.
So *flexes fingers* I will be back!
I will write about my past/present/future musical heroes De La Soul. Anyone who has known me since age 4 or been to my bedroom knows how much they mean to me.
So *flexes fingers* I will be back!
Someone please tell me why MTV cancelled this?
I miss this show so much. I used to have a crush on Wordsworth- it's easy to see why!
Sagaal iyo labataan (twenty nine)-'10:34 am'
+252******** called
This morn
My voicemail got there
'Fore I did
It still sliced my slumber
Interrupting a beautiful dream
Where I was in love with another
Subhan'Allah
I'm sure he knows
That I dont dream
Of his broad shoulders
Anymore
This morn
My voicemail got there
'Fore I did
It still sliced my slumber
Interrupting a beautiful dream
Where I was in love with another
Subhan'Allah
I'm sure he knows
That I dont dream
Of his broad shoulders
Anymore
Tuesday 28 April 2009
I'm currently reading
So far I'm enjoying it. Will be interesting to see my final thoughts when I finish it because of all the past furore of how the author is racist (the S.African govt denounced the novel).
It's a tough one because Coetzee is a white S.African writer- so writing about a racist character will unnerve people.
Three Qs I need to keep in mind:
-To what extent is the character's sentiments made up?
-How much of it is based on Coetzee's real views?
-Is he purposefully fuelling racist white sentiments/fears about savage-like black stereotypes?
Hmmm. We'll see.
Siddeed iyo labataan (twenty eight)-'Kibirlow'
[Being spoiled (kibir) by their Mothers and lack of discipline is the main problem and the main destructor of alot of young Somali males. Their Mother's smother them with everything but 'no']
Mothers to Sons
Each gilded plate
Food served still warm
On hand and foot
Eyes watch him
Searching his face for a sign of
Approval
A second later
Walls are coloured with cuisine murals
When he gets older
He will kill his marriage
Stomping stubborness on laminated floors
Children quaking under stairs
And then
He will lose his mind
Either
In between other women's legs
Spelling defiance with his tongue
Or behind bars
The guy with the Mother
With the small feet and hands
Who comes every Friday
Without fail
And he talks
Spitting angry audacity onto her face
Like he was the one who gave life to her
Mothers to Sons
Each gilded plate
Food served still warm
On hand and foot
Eyes watch him
Searching his face for a sign of
Approval
A second later
Walls are coloured with cuisine murals
When he gets older
He will kill his marriage
Stomping stubborness on laminated floors
Children quaking under stairs
And then
He will lose his mind
Either
In between other women's legs
Spelling defiance with his tongue
Or behind bars
The guy with the Mother
With the small feet and hands
Who comes every Friday
Without fail
And he talks
Spitting angry audacity onto her face
Like he was the one who gave life to her
Todoba iyo labataan (Twenty seven)- 'For Gil'
Your music set your people free
I heard of one jailed innocent Mother
Whose steel bars became your guitar strings
You strummed
Turned your tuning keys
So she could escape
Whilst prison officers
In the next room
Cried and swayed
Watching your concert
On tv
The bridge of your guitar
Connects them all
In Sao Paulo
The people of the Favelas
Sing so hard
That when they exhale
Strong breaths
Turn their tin roofs
Into earthen clay
Like the ones
That cover your Mother's old house
In Salvador
The wood varnish for your guitar
Is smeared on my windows
So even on gloomy days
Gap toothed burnt orange rays
Via Rio
Are smiling in
I look forward
To waking up each morning
Somewhere dark and beautiful
Like your soundhole
I want to learn Portugese
Or you could learn Somali
So we could have conversations
Free of any pretense
I would clasp your hand
And you would play justice into my fingers
And our people would love that
I'm sure
I heard of one jailed innocent Mother
Whose steel bars became your guitar strings
You strummed
Turned your tuning keys
So she could escape
Whilst prison officers
In the next room
Cried and swayed
Watching your concert
On tv
The bridge of your guitar
Connects them all
In Sao Paulo
The people of the Favelas
Sing so hard
That when they exhale
Strong breaths
Turn their tin roofs
Into earthen clay
Like the ones
That cover your Mother's old house
In Salvador
The wood varnish for your guitar
Is smeared on my windows
So even on gloomy days
Gap toothed burnt orange rays
Via Rio
Are smiling in
I look forward
To waking up each morning
Somewhere dark and beautiful
Like your soundhole
I want to learn Portugese
Or you could learn Somali
So we could have conversations
Free of any pretense
I would clasp your hand
And you would play justice into my fingers
And our people would love that
I'm sure
Sunday 26 April 2009
Lix iyo labataan (twenty six)-'Trust'
The ex wouldn't leave
The ocean on the sides
And underneath his tongue
I felt he let her swim
In the deep end
When we dined at the Fish market
The grilled seabass with the mouth ajar
On my plate staring back at me
Was her
I spoke with my beautiful Ebony once
Who told me her boyfriend
Knew tech things and such
Tracing
Decrypting passwords
"Hack him, you know?"
I remember
Straight after
Hannah's Mum,
Miss Gorbutt
Came and spoke to me
She warned me
That if I looked
Of unsettling things I would find
Pandora-esque
Atlantic eels in your bed type
That my innocence
Would not be able to comprehend
"Leave your trust in God"
Soon after he showed his true colours
I didn't have to dig anywhere
He shunned honesty
and in exchange
Trust paddled with me in the shore
The ocean on the sides
And underneath his tongue
I felt he let her swim
In the deep end
When we dined at the Fish market
The grilled seabass with the mouth ajar
On my plate staring back at me
Was her
I spoke with my beautiful Ebony once
Who told me her boyfriend
Knew tech things and such
Tracing
Decrypting passwords
"Hack him, you know?"
I remember
Straight after
Hannah's Mum,
Miss Gorbutt
Came and spoke to me
She warned me
That if I looked
Of unsettling things I would find
Pandora-esque
Atlantic eels in your bed type
That my innocence
Would not be able to comprehend
"Leave your trust in God"
Soon after he showed his true colours
I didn't have to dig anywhere
He shunned honesty
and in exchange
Trust paddled with me in the shore
Shan iyo labataan (twenty five)-'Lets'
Darling
Leave the milk to spoil
Food on the stove to burn
Bills to flood over doormat
Aunt to knock
Neighbours to wonder
Lets just love,
Please
Leave the milk to spoil
Food on the stove to burn
Bills to flood over doormat
Aunt to knock
Neighbours to wonder
Lets just love,
Please
Afar iyo labataan (Twenty four)- 'Yessir'
3 blackfaced Minstrels laugh
In a corner
Producing
Tears that run through ears
Mixing in with wax
Dripping over
Thin caucasian lips with
Over-exaggeratedly applied rouge
Making tap shoes
Something a
Sticky-sticky
I wish I was there to tell them
The joke was on them
In a corner
Producing
Tears that run through ears
Mixing in with wax
Dripping over
Thin caucasian lips with
Over-exaggeratedly applied rouge
Making tap shoes
Something a
Sticky-sticky
I wish I was there to tell them
The joke was on them
Jake One
First heard about this amazing Producer on the 'rock co.kane flow' song off De La's 'The grind date' feat DOOM who is also on Jake One's latest album offering 'White Van music'. I was surprised to find a instrumental CD in there and I also loved the way he explained how each song came about and his relationship with each MC in the album booklet.Buy the album!
Saturday 25 April 2009
Sedex iyo labataan (Twenty three)-'Backbone'
"Narrated Abu Huraira: The Prophet SWS said: "…Everything of a human body will waste away' perish or decay except the last coccyx (back) bone (Al-ajb, Arab.) and from that bone Allah will reconstruct the whole body" (On the day of Judgement)
'Backbone'
These women
They see
Concaved shaped shores
That strike bullets from seashells
Narrowly missing their men and
Piercing their supple skin instead
Scars that leave a map of Babylon
Lining their backs and thighs
Leaving them with a limp
When they walk
Creating trails of irregular footprints
Footpaths a smudged grey colour
Like the elephant they take solace under
Ivory tusks that drip with the women's marrowbone
And worn off indho-kohl
These women with
Perspirating backs that carry gaunt shadows for babies
Picking up backbones to bury
Rwanda’s sacrum
Sudan’s vertabrae
Congo’s spinal discs
Somalia’s tailbone
These women never ask:
Who will bury theirs?
'Backbone'
These women
They see
Concaved shaped shores
That strike bullets from seashells
Narrowly missing their men and
Piercing their supple skin instead
Scars that leave a map of Babylon
Lining their backs and thighs
Leaving them with a limp
When they walk
Creating trails of irregular footprints
Footpaths a smudged grey colour
Like the elephant they take solace under
Ivory tusks that drip with the women's marrowbone
And worn off indho-kohl
These women with
Perspirating backs that carry gaunt shadows for babies
Picking up backbones to bury
Rwanda’s sacrum
Sudan’s vertabrae
Congo’s spinal discs
Somalia’s tailbone
These women never ask:
Who will bury theirs?
Labo iyo labataan (twenty two)-'Mogadishu/New York'
He sits like this,
Rarely saying much into the phone
He remembers he comforted her in her sleep once
To numb the pain when her Mother left
Despite being thousands of lights and languages away
Galvanised gunmetal and magenta hued thoughts
Like misty Mumbai skies before the Monsoon
That lowered above their heads
and left precipitation in her eyes and thunder in his head.
A frayed and weathered Xadraawi paperback lays atop his black and white humming tv set
He picks at the chipping door's paint with his eyes
A old Italian colonial building burns a block down
The flames let off a selfish stench
The smoke seeps through his window carefully avoiding the window pane
Unwavered he takes in a polluted breath that reaches his regal toes
He tells her he remembers things after the age of 6
His Uncle's painting of the hanging gardens of Babylon
How he wishes he could go there and pick only the richest of fruits for her
The civil breaking out and the urgance in everybody’s feet
When he realised he would never leave
How his Father passed on his 5th birthday
He swears to Seylac and back that,
When Aabo died the innermost part of Hooyo's diety left with him
He remembers seeing Sulfa perform with his older sister
They danced on Lido beach with the Moon
Until the Sun waltzed it around
The multitudinous scents on Friday at Madrassa school
The way his teeth sunk into cool watermelon on Bakara market
Then being wrapped up warm by the Adhan's call to Prayers
But furthermore he wants to know,
where she, the one with ankles scented with uunsi
protected with gold and turq jewelled anklet
Father's dedicated Daughter
Skin the shade of soaked Tunisian almond skins
Has been all his life?
She sits like this
Hand dutifully holding acrylic phone
Despite being hundreds of oceanic movements and mainland interferences away
She held him in her arms once
Whilst he was unconscious
On Xamar weyne streets
Cradling him when his body tried to battle the invading bullet
Hot sweltering heat
Blood red like a Buffalo's open carcass on famished plains
A leaky tap and lyricist lounge CD give beat to her backdrop
She gives him unsaid vows sent from her 7th Great Aunt
The one who died before she got a copper chance
To say what she felt to her beloved
She plays with her Father's swiss pocket knife
Until her sore hands resemble the casing in colour
Vaseline leisurely added to her pinky finger
She smoothes prodigy twice to her lips
A wind breaks and momentarily flirts with her wallhung blue and white flag
For 18 years now
Its been violated
Pulled to and fro
Threads woven in with worthless tribal names
Those that when pronounced twist your tongue into snakes
She tells him
She remembers things after the age of 4
The sweaty forehead of the air steward when they landed in JFK
Trying and failing in trying to count lightbulbs on times squares
Mismatched clothing and dialogue on her milky refugee tongue
Where she was when she first heard the Fugees on the radio
Homeless Cherokee figures with leather-like skin
White collars chasing dollars
Big bird's canary yellow
Seeing J Dilla live at the bluenote in NYC
Profane Brownstone faces and busy stoops at summertime
The way her classmates eyebrows knitted
When she told them she was from SOO-MAA-LI-YA
She wants to know
Where he, the one with the softly blemished skin that maps out Byzantine
Who wears the clinically white racerback vests that contrast with his beautiful tanned melanin
He with the hair twisted from civil war struggle
Brother protector of her homeland dreams
has been all her life?
Rarely saying much into the phone
He remembers he comforted her in her sleep once
To numb the pain when her Mother left
Despite being thousands of lights and languages away
Galvanised gunmetal and magenta hued thoughts
Like misty Mumbai skies before the Monsoon
That lowered above their heads
and left precipitation in her eyes and thunder in his head.
A frayed and weathered Xadraawi paperback lays atop his black and white humming tv set
He picks at the chipping door's paint with his eyes
A old Italian colonial building burns a block down
The flames let off a selfish stench
The smoke seeps through his window carefully avoiding the window pane
Unwavered he takes in a polluted breath that reaches his regal toes
He tells her he remembers things after the age of 6
His Uncle's painting of the hanging gardens of Babylon
How he wishes he could go there and pick only the richest of fruits for her
The civil breaking out and the urgance in everybody’s feet
When he realised he would never leave
How his Father passed on his 5th birthday
He swears to Seylac and back that,
When Aabo died the innermost part of Hooyo's diety left with him
He remembers seeing Sulfa perform with his older sister
They danced on Lido beach with the Moon
Until the Sun waltzed it around
The multitudinous scents on Friday at Madrassa school
The way his teeth sunk into cool watermelon on Bakara market
Then being wrapped up warm by the Adhan's call to Prayers
But furthermore he wants to know,
where she, the one with ankles scented with uunsi
protected with gold and turq jewelled anklet
Father's dedicated Daughter
Skin the shade of soaked Tunisian almond skins
Has been all his life?
She sits like this
Hand dutifully holding acrylic phone
Despite being hundreds of oceanic movements and mainland interferences away
She held him in her arms once
Whilst he was unconscious
On Xamar weyne streets
Cradling him when his body tried to battle the invading bullet
Hot sweltering heat
Blood red like a Buffalo's open carcass on famished plains
A leaky tap and lyricist lounge CD give beat to her backdrop
She gives him unsaid vows sent from her 7th Great Aunt
The one who died before she got a copper chance
To say what she felt to her beloved
She plays with her Father's swiss pocket knife
Until her sore hands resemble the casing in colour
Vaseline leisurely added to her pinky finger
She smoothes prodigy twice to her lips
A wind breaks and momentarily flirts with her wallhung blue and white flag
For 18 years now
Its been violated
Pulled to and fro
Threads woven in with worthless tribal names
Those that when pronounced twist your tongue into snakes
She tells him
She remembers things after the age of 4
The sweaty forehead of the air steward when they landed in JFK
Trying and failing in trying to count lightbulbs on times squares
Mismatched clothing and dialogue on her milky refugee tongue
Where she was when she first heard the Fugees on the radio
Homeless Cherokee figures with leather-like skin
White collars chasing dollars
Big bird's canary yellow
Seeing J Dilla live at the bluenote in NYC
Profane Brownstone faces and busy stoops at summertime
The way her classmates eyebrows knitted
When she told them she was from SOO-MAA-LI-YA
She wants to know
Where he, the one with the softly blemished skin that maps out Byzantine
Who wears the clinically white racerback vests that contrast with his beautiful tanned melanin
He with the hair twisted from civil war struggle
Brother protector of her homeland dreams
has been all her life?
Kow iyo labataan (Twenty one)- 'Weli baa'
This poem is about my cousin's Grandmother.
I remember one time not too long ago
She caught her reflection in a mirror
The way she lifted her delicate hands to her face
Heavily
Like they were each carrying a slaughtered camel
She didn't recognise the sullen and aged face staring back at her
In that white bathroom
Alzheimers held her hostage
Grey plaque covers braincells
Thunderclouds lined with mental fatique hover
This startles me
Because when she was growing up in Bandabeyla
Skies were always clear for her
So clear that it reflected
Promises of 7 children
Her dancing crops and how they gave lazy salutations to the sun
Conversations with her plump neighbour under the shade of the qudhac tree
Dowry comprised of livestock that spoke tales of cushitic galaxies
The same starry eyes that once loved him so much
Now look frustrated and at times empty
A couple of years ago my cousins and I packed our suitcases
To holiday in D.C
She cried and asked why they were leaving her
Bittersweet Mogadishu’s pain still jolts through her
She used to wonder what happened to her son
How he kissed his wife and newborn baby
And left to pray one day and never came back
She hoped they showed him mercy
I really hope they showed him mercy
One thing that touches us all so much is
The way her eyes shift when she cant find her tusbah
Or how she continuously wants to pray
So she never misses any of her salat
Even as the disease progresses
Remembrance of Allah is forever imprinted
And comforts her dementia stricken brain
I remember one time not too long ago
She caught her reflection in a mirror
The way she lifted her delicate hands to her face
Heavily
Like they were each carrying a slaughtered camel
She didn't recognise the sullen and aged face staring back at her
In that white bathroom
Alzheimers held her hostage
Grey plaque covers braincells
Thunderclouds lined with mental fatique hover
This startles me
Because when she was growing up in Bandabeyla
Skies were always clear for her
So clear that it reflected
Promises of 7 children
Her dancing crops and how they gave lazy salutations to the sun
Conversations with her plump neighbour under the shade of the qudhac tree
Dowry comprised of livestock that spoke tales of cushitic galaxies
The same starry eyes that once loved him so much
Now look frustrated and at times empty
A couple of years ago my cousins and I packed our suitcases
To holiday in D.C
She cried and asked why they were leaving her
Bittersweet Mogadishu’s pain still jolts through her
She used to wonder what happened to her son
How he kissed his wife and newborn baby
And left to pray one day and never came back
She hoped they showed him mercy
I really hope they showed him mercy
One thing that touches us all so much is
The way her eyes shift when she cant find her tusbah
Or how she continuously wants to pray
So she never misses any of her salat
Even as the disease progresses
Remembrance of Allah is forever imprinted
And comforts her dementia stricken brain
Poetic expressions @ SOAS
Well the charity event at The School of Oriental and African studies last night went well alhamdulilah. I wasn't so nervous but I had great friends and family there spurring me on :)
I'm going to post the three poems I wrote/read out.
I'm going to post the three poems I wrote/read out.
Tuesday 21 April 2009
Weekly 'Later....with Jools Holland' clip
This week is Mexican duo Rodrigo y Gabriela. My little brother Warsame has been getting me into Central and South American musicians lately- namely classical guitar based. So this one is dedicated to him.
No poetry month challenge hiatus here son
Insha'Allah I'm performing 3 poems this Friday for a friend of a friend's charity event.
So I had to write 2 new poems and completely switched up an old one - I haven't quit the task for those wondering what happened. Just cant post them up to ruin it for those who are coming. I will post them all after the performance on Friday Insha'Allah.
Come to the show if you're free :)
So I had to write 2 new poems and completely switched up an old one - I haven't quit the task for those wondering what happened. Just cant post them up to ruin it for those who are coming. I will post them all after the performance on Friday Insha'Allah.
Come to the show if you're free :)
Labataan (twenty)-'Samater'
For the baby of the family, My 16 yr brother.
I remember it all as sharp and metallic as
The gold tip of Aabo's favourite fountain pen
Me; Maryan/Mimi/Mai
Aged 6 and two butterflies
3 brothers
No sister to share
Strawberry jam laughs and
Peanut butter tears with
I prayed each night to Allah
To not let Hooyo's bump be another brutish brother
You arrived early
3 months and a twig prematurely
Ambulance siren tried to reassure me you'd live
I didn't believe his shrill pleas
Because Hooyo left traces of your tears all over her bed
I prayed to Allah again
Like the key to a gramophone
I tried to rewind all notes and words said
A sister wasn't and never will be worth it
If you returned to Hooyo,Aabo and all of us dead
I remember it all as sharp and metallic as
The gold tip of Aabo's favourite fountain pen
Me; Maryan/Mimi/Mai
Aged 6 and two butterflies
3 brothers
No sister to share
Strawberry jam laughs and
Peanut butter tears with
I prayed each night to Allah
To not let Hooyo's bump be another brutish brother
You arrived early
3 months and a twig prematurely
Ambulance siren tried to reassure me you'd live
I didn't believe his shrill pleas
Because Hooyo left traces of your tears all over her bed
I prayed to Allah again
Like the key to a gramophone
I tried to rewind all notes and words said
A sister wasn't and never will be worth it
If you returned to Hooyo,Aabo and all of us dead
Sunday 19 April 2009
Sagaal iyo toban(Nineteen)-'Dwellings'
Aborted indian baby girls
No longer line wombs
But bottomless water wells
Bloody amniotic fluid for celebratory wine
Placenta for wedding veil
No longer line wombs
But bottomless water wells
Bloody amniotic fluid for celebratory wine
Placenta for wedding veil
Day 19 of the Poetry month challenge and...
.....it's all gone by so quick.
I'm halfway through Poem 19.
Will post later tonight Insha'Allah.
Hope everybody will join in for the remaining few days if you didn't manage to do all poems.
Blogs of amazing poets that I follow daily are Amir Sulaiman & Warsan Shire .
Both are in my link list & following list. Check them out.
I'm halfway through Poem 19.
Will post later tonight Insha'Allah.
Hope everybody will join in for the remaining few days if you didn't manage to do all poems.
Blogs of amazing poets that I follow daily are Amir Sulaiman & Warsan Shire .
Both are in my link list & following list. Check them out.
Blackthought for breakfast
Most of my family were asleep this morning so I watched one of my favourite films for the trillionth time- 'Brooklyn Babylon'.
Blackthought is a quietly amazing actor. I wish he would do more films.
Blackthought is a quietly amazing actor. I wish he would do more films.
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