Wednesday, October 17, 2012

butterflies on the roof

Today , I made a beautiful memory
on the final floor the roof of a house in the busiest part of omdurman with traffic horns and tired lorries overloaded everywhere I stood hanging my washing like....... like old times? I had never experienced old fashioned laundry for a long time
the smell of the powder, the coolness of the wet clothes against my wrinkled hands, the freshness of the sun as I was borrowing its heat to dry my clothes or was it being friendly by helping me?

ahead of me

was life
behind me
was a person I wanted to forget a little bit more each and everyday

but the real beautfiul memory was
white butterflies dancing nearby on top of pink flowers that were wrapped around the railing of the roof
how beatiful
undisturbed by badness by sadness
jsut miracles dancing and waving higher tot he sky to help them be together
forever
landing on pink soil when tired to chat rest and have fun
 I watched them
I watched the street
I wish life could be as beautiful as those butterflies rythyms
so I asked myself
can my life be as beautfiul as those butterlfies rythyms?

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Pickles & Ginger Biscuits

The coolness of the external alone fills my heart
I feel safe , unwanted ...but safe

wishing that they open their door i search for remedies, memories as I am greeted with a warm but a cold welcome or was it a goodbye, I dont know - I was looking at what I wished my future would be like i was looking at the beautfiul sudanese yard clean and dribbled with water smelling like aftershave of rain and sweet flowers, the lemon tree sitting on the side like a glazed queen, I was looking at the way the lights fall and the entrance to the inside of the house tempts you to run inside - we went at that time when all the hard work was done cleaning and cooking and sleeping = their children greet us beautifully clean and queit plaits controlled and voices unheard - come say hello and then they run to where they came from - I admire everything insdie the furniture the carpet the curtains the ornaments the kitchen although i didnt enter it today the fans the freshness the love the faith I admire everything and I start to remember all the good things I know I want to know I thought i knew - we ask for tea only they give us tea only and three tyoes of biscuits two homemade
one ginger biscuits with sugar sprinkled on top the ginger comes to me like a waft of life inside turmoil soft but surrounded with a bit of brittle like me? i love them
I am queit today i was never queit when i went to visit them but today i was queit thinking they really dont care they really dont know how much I love them and wnat to be like them I never want to leave even though I know their home doenst really want me as i leave i imagine their in progress garden how beautfiul lights flowers in a certain way tea and juice or maybe dinner outside

oh and pickles .....aubergine cucumber and cucumber carrots onions>? dont let them boil , salt sugar vinegar water i try and remmebr i desperately try and save it in my memory pretend ive done it a million times pretty young woman doing a grandmothers job perfect sexy cool

i hate leaving but i hate going

I always feel unbehaved and lifeless when I leave them
and dirty and unsudanese
I feel all those things when I visit the best people inthe world

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

neither here nor there

in the subset of tranquil madness I categorise my future memories into turmoil or ....watermelons
broken existence I share the heaviness of the metal dust in the sotlen streets, lost from frozen money thawed in a beautiful girls room somewjere downtown ...in the high places around like here - the condiotioner conditions my anger and cools my heartbreak - the fan rythyms my soul in to believing I am here ...I am here in the place where i am  either here nor there where i neiether belong or am a stranger no i am not a stranger but I am not adjust to this zoo either - like a desert filled with stories filled with smiles and tears and water but also oil, sugar, and sesame ground into a sweet - I have been writing about the moment I reach the deafening sounds of truck traffic and rich versus poor sudanese I have been waiting to write about the times the street lamps shine onto my heart at midnight and how the sounds of sleeping people beat and how the trees sway with pink and white and how the sound of the refrigerator hums in the background and how I am here so happy but so sad because there is a part of me that i just want to kill and deploy so very far away to do its dirty business of crashing dreams elsewhere - and there is a part of me I do not understand - its like the girl who said I dont need crushed biscuits of solid flavoud...vanilla or like the eyes that stare at me and think what is that girl t hinking its the same girl thinking WHAT IS THAT GIRL THINKING
that girl I wish I was a new woman I have been dreaming about being a better woman i didnt want to cry at all but I am sad because I do not feel light instead i have a million worries and I do not feel beautiful because I the connection is lost and I do not feel in touch with myself because I am neither here nor there neither hapy nor sad neither good nor bad neither alive nor dead neither strong nor weak neither able or unable - they said to me you cant do this alone I said i wont even listen - now I say are they right are they really right?

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

this is not my plan

 this is not who I am
lost
bored
boring
queit
unhappy
tired
ignorant
weak
selfish
lacking
and
willing to sacrifice heaVen for a few hours of extra sleep

this is not what I want
late starts
unhealthy body
functionless mind
concentrating on the hot weather .....and food

this is noT how I want it to be
 a mistake
a chance closed
a time wasted
like all other times

this is not how I want God to see me
lifeless
useless
unworthy to be protected and loved
to be give n
memories and a future


this is all wrong
I am all wrong
I feel so unhappy
not becasue I am in the wrong place
but becasue I am doing all the wrong things

I feel so weak
because its like somewhere as I  was flying my strength fell from the sky
and my dreams vaporised
leaving this

an empty woman unsure where to begin
and what she must do

this is not what I promised my self
a new me
expanded only in beauty

if i continue like this
it will be the loss of all times
and the sadness that costs me all my age
and goodness

i have been here a week
so whats is going to be
sink or sswim?

Monday, October 1, 2012

Be.....be natural,,,,be beautiful

I dream
I live
I aspire
I collect strength
I fly



I will be a new hope
with a new scent
and that works hard and tries her real best
love for faith - even if at 3 am at 4 am
I used to think before there are always more faithful ones than me
it made me never really believe in myself
but now now i think
yes there are very good people too
but I am my own goodness and it is what I do and all else doesnt matter
have good strong opinion be wise be strong but be sweet be mature be hopeful be natural
caring  honestly to others and then to yourself
if you really cared for your self it
would show
and you would know
how pretty and happy you really can be
be loving but be daring be promising be magnetic be attractive
be natural - simply be kind be easy
energetic - oh live live for moving your body and twisting into activity
fun to be with to see to hear to talk to be around
entertaining to life - live your life and nobody elses and not for anybody else
except God 

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' -