Sunday, February 21, 2016

I am primitive

I want to say , I am not the indent of love or the broken of smiles
I am not the voice of loudness or the words of anger
I am not the sense of senseless or the parts of fury
I am not the one they think or the one they know

I am hope, i will always be hope
whether it is maddening or frightening
whether it is controllable or not controllable
I am hope , the good one, the fighter, the believer

the one that makes mistakes, the one that cries after
the one that prays for good and when torn prays for bad
the one that doesnt mean but does mean,
the one whose feelings are raw and sharp

like a blade, like a fist, like a million fists
and the temptation turns into a broken family

considering hellos turn into shouts
and smiles turn into tears
and people turn against me
I fight
i dont give up
for these are my primitive feelings
my sore points
that they touch

with understanding or none
I am here
like an eater, looking for heat from the cold, and comfort from the wind

I make cinnamon rolls
I make red velvet cake
I make lemon drizzle

I am an elegant woman
I dont show it
for I am the primitive one
with the kindest other half

I am the mean half
the tormented half
the stolen half
the mixed in mind half
the one that is lost half

and now i am losing and will lose
whether it s time, patience, love, respect

I have lost and will lose

but i am here
a woman

I am a primitive being
like all my ancerstors
drawing on walls their words
I draw my words with screams

like all my ancestors
holding ornaments they treasure
i treasure my family
my only family
and hold it deep in my heart and soul
deep down

and now here I am
lost and losing
sore and torn
bruised and used

like schoolground children
red eyes they look at me and fingers they hold at me
and throws they blow to my nurture
for i grew up with .... suits and going to work everyday
and money like every penny

not from trees
not from anything but sweat

i grew up knowing and believing in the best
and so i will always know and believe the best

in kindness
in strength
in happiness
in knowledge

and in improvement
and if i regret

it is only that i regret being primitive
but not being me


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' -