Friday, March 7, 2008

Echoes in my mind_ ( The other part of me)

I fear that within all my interconnected lines – a deep dark soul finds its roads to continue – of the beaten track – where I’ve lost the evidence to convict its black – memories against me - pressing argumentative treason and all the wrong reasons to commit unmistakable mistakes through the drama of my life and fractioned dreams. I am (in – contactable) with myself, asking my eyes why they cry glass tears killing me, asking my breath why it gives in to contaminated air , suffocating me– falling and falling through the cracks that open wider as my damp hearted feelings dry - as my emotions fry – under a ruthless sun baking my fantasies into a bitter trauma – I am tasting of hurt – cooking madness – eating it all nonstop – as if hypnotised by an evil explosion of no control - and silent awakening of a confused master – within a surface glaze – seemingly undisturbed by any saga of this peeling mind - my desires weaken me as my faith abandons me – embarrassed from my betrayal – moments of a fool – seconds meaning nothing but calculable giving ins - I have so many unmanageable wants – all asking the same thing – to be heard loudly – but I cannot listen to all without straining myself beyond un repairable stretch – tampered with smile – torn from the stress – fingertip mess – splodging too many flaws on my no longer fit paper that once had the meaning of me spelled correctly – now it’s a failing exam- none of it is up to the standard of what I’ve become – a forgettable hum – even to myself – even though that’s never how I intended it to be – I desired to reach all the goals I wished upon –under the sun – but now I’m over the dark- thinking about my broken mark – where I no longer have a point to conquer – and I wander – somewhere in the depths of a misunderstood capturing galaxy – twisted in its laws – bursting with flaws - adapting me in its shape – an alienated escape – questioning my foreign, very foreign, foreign home – built in the undiscovered shadows off the motorways of my veins after the bypass of my heart – turning after my mind and driving into my soul but just after my dreams and finding a space of a place in the wilderness of that area that lies disturbed – and curbed – with frustration -

ا لبرج الفاتح من الداخل





























Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Sunday, March 2, 2008

Nice Prayer


God -
I ask you to take away worry, sadness, laziness, selfishness, cowardness
Forgetting Islam and being weakened by men -

Traditional Sudanese Food

This tray shows the ta3miya, meat (fried and in sauce), white cheese, the spice and for dessert the shi3ariya or sweet noodles


A typical image of how Sudanese food is presented - the round metal tray has been in the sudanese kitchen as a basis for every presentation - The 'foul' or brown beans is of course the traditional staple food in sudan along with ta3miya - ''falafel' and Tahina salads garnished with olive oil and olives and a simple green salad with roquet, tomato and onions.

There are a lot of traditional drinks the one shown being - '3aradeeb' -

There is hilu mur - or 'abra'

Karkada - Hibiscus

Gongolaz

Saturday, March 1, 2008

Khartoum Heartbreak 4


'She clicks her mp3 tune - Complicated by Robin Thicke'

I wish I could change - I wish I could change - I wish I could stop saying the same old things - I wish I could be - Who you want me to be - I wish I could stop being the same old me - I wish I could lose - All of my blues - I wish I could stop putting my blues on you - I wish I could love - Like nobody loves - I wish that my goods outweigh my bad......

'The song of her reality'

I wish I could stop dreaming of you
Skies bruised from my hurt
You are too out of my league
Like a champion I can never race with
Pain drawing my insides
With a colour that weakens my soul

Words that only tear me
Words that never spare me

'Cage the stars'

The sky glitters with tropical stars twinkling upon the hushing african city. Flavors of young mother's poverty outweigh in bitterness as they tremble on the vast mudded streets collecting darkness, struggles of defeated men driving their battered cabs from the dawn of the day, sorrows of closing stalls where sales were exctinct once again.

'The night has a million stories to tell, more than a million shadows to hide.'

Over the silently stricken River Nile of magical fairytales there is a dream of living, surviving and offering the hand to continue the journey to a purpose for tomorrows determined generations to find success in whatever they desire. The waters ripple with existence, emotion, devotion for its country and the waves over rided by prosperous traffic become the basis for this never giving up population.

'Yet she is locked '

Over my heart as I watch the eyes of the city watch into a new day, as I hear the Lungs of Khartoum breathe, as I take in its memories and feel it yearning to make new ones Tomorrow - There is a sheet of memories from deep within me

'Trying to break free.'

Dream Faither... Love the one above


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' -