Wednesday, October 31, 2007


Expelled with a covering pad of sorrow into blacked out happiness
I’m torn with misconceptions and arrogance
The world is fed with starvation in love
The satiety is from forgiveness with emptiness
The cavity in the core of our nations is of infecting policies
The wounds in our realities skin are impinged by our unkind authorities
All they manage to do is drive punishing salt in our exposed bleeding truth to graduate it to pain
Debt is the new water drunk to sail through our veins, blood freezes
To a consistency of solidified agony but claws of laws still operate
Trying to figure out what I’m going to be
Picking up pieces of lost hope debris
If I could collect my dreams on a clear day
Safe from night rain tears my eyes will later say
If I could have eyes to not devastate the parcel of good luck bound in me
If I could have a soul that doesn’t try to untie, unravel, a mystery, a documentary of vast fearful time ahead of me
If I could own a mind that I bought with peace
If I could contact my heart to send a phone call of reassurance – a dial tone of serenity
If I could hear the sound of tranquility through the message beep of a comforting mobile
To mobile my concreted exile
When I hear the wails of concreted skyscraper cries
Of mothers and little sisters losing their loved ones in a war of why’s
The news opens a department in my heart named ‘suffering despair’
Watching sons and husbands coffined because peace is in ripped tear
A stapler to firm papers of misery in my age
Young strong men locked and flocked to a cage
Tender sweet girls bearing no pink dresses, their skin only wears rage
To her father who kissed her good morning before his work he would engage
Now standing in front of him with his eyes closed, his cuddling body she knew just this morning, now rigid, black from burns
She is the one to kiss him goodbye because her father will never return
Trying to figure out what I’m going to be
My vicinity is an opera show that I can never be free
From torment and loss – I hang a note of plea
I want to be saved from this drowning world sea
A note saying rescue us – rescue me
But all I own is a breaking shattering key
To open the door to what it is
I will constantly see

No comments:

What it is...

I see Life like a rose in the ice... beautiful but with cold settings - There are so many incredible things out there - but we always need to fight and perservere against the hardships too... otherwise the cold will win ... and we will wither away.

My imagination has led me to believe in something called 'Sudan Fairytale' -
The fantasy that My country will one day be independant and proud, never selfsish to provide its people with its needs, give freedom and success to all, be forever committed to achieve a prosperous inhabitance to every Sudanese in their own country-

My eyes fail me and I see the truth which I call - 'Khartoum Heartbreak' - This is a theme running through the blog under the 'Khartoum Heartbreak' Poems and whatever else about Sudan conveying broken down love, poor streets and cut off electricity along with a lot of other decays and problems in Khartoum city Life.

But I love my country and so I have no choice but to merge the Pain and the Love as one.

Faith is my heart and I could never do without it hoping in my prayers that I can be someone better always and that God forgives me as I fall in Mistakes through that frozen path of Life...

Sometimes I feel under control with all the too many emotions that run to colour my days and nights - Books, movies, music, dreams, friends, family, strangers, travel, - reality - the 10 O' Clock news -Most of the time I'm very Lost in trying to understand - whatever happens becomes tangled into writing this confusing memoir -

It's a really odd combination of air - not sure whether it is refreshing or suffocating - stabilising or maddening - But I breathe and
so it is
'Memoirs of a Sudanese breath' as I am 'Lost but under control' -