Poetic Verses

Poetic verses (different genres)

Wailing war

Pungant sentiments
Sentiments that sense the revolting realms of war
Of wayfaring natives amidst a non-native land crossing the shores
Experiencing  a repulsive and bitter taste of killing for leisure , for upside down psychopathic fed pleasure
‘Pull  the trigger’ is the order
Drop the drone is that tacit intiative
Badge of honour makes them ‘appreciative’ by not giving others the right to live
I’ve swam the ocean just to meet icebergs at the atlantic ,
To encounter  whales that swallow a live anthrop mammal
Ive ran across the equitor just to feel the weight
The wait of making mother earth safe
Safety was at stake , when mankind was first made

Rukia Mohamoud Copyright © 2014

Haunted Fate

I prostrated so many times but I’m still frustrated 
I stagnated many a times but still fainted 
I done sacred matters but still my pasts tainted 
I invoked God but still my future is bleakely painted 
I done good shit but that wrong shit keeps it stained, my life is a mix up and bullshit remains 
Profanely insane 
Inanely invain 
Merely disdained 
Mainly in shame
Im done with this metre 
Its exhausted my brain

Rukia Mohamoud Copyright © 2014

The ugly in you

The demon’s overhearing the evil you’re adhering from your nafs (inner-self)  ,

clearly you are mean and don’t want the best for your brethren .

So ENTERS Ugly in the jealous face of yours , can’t come to terms with why evil you applause ,wretched souls you accompany and implore .It is war on your sole soul , that you wish to ignore , as your opponent is living it up and is not giving it up ,

singing their favorite ballad ‘in God I trust’ ..

Jealousy still lurks in that grotesque facade of yours ,

confused you wish you followed your opponents mottos and laws ,

then you reflect upon your growing greed and mental disease,lest that some deem it an emotion and some the former aforementioned. 

You reflect upon your growing greed wanting to bring a soul down because God’s words you never heed …so a rhetorical question in question is trouble to your flinching tiresome mind , are you a grown woman or a haggard that’s merely blind?

thus the former you wish to believe and achieve ,

but your own soul; in opposition got you shattered and deceived

Rukia Mohamoud Copyright © 2014

Forgetting In Progress ……

‘urm yeah so where was I ?’

I say after a long conversation and someone distracts me, 

as soon as the conversation is about to become interesting

I grit my teeth with irritation and pure annoyance ticking in my brain, I depend on my friend to ”remind me” as I look at her sharply

making my eyes look like lines more than anything

I try to recall it … unfortunately my poor memory can not find the missing puzzle of my dialogue,

”urm …yeah so where was I ?’ 

Rukia Mohamoud Copyright © 2014

Seneca

‘Prosperity fosters bad temper’- Lucius Annaeus Seneca

Natures Acapella

I want to sing him the blues , maybe even midnight and you ,

change an instrumental in to purely vocal , hum it and steal natures exquisite music,

thunder-claps watch as I separate my tongue from my palate .. I claim the sounds of nature as mine ,

make tides look as though they were pearls intertwining amidst the acoustics of the air , I catch it compulsively ,form the letters of his name against condensed vapour ,

Press the carvings of his hands into my soul so he can clutch and claim it,

Requiring the need of entertaining his aura, as it strikes me, I dance with his shadows like how willows wave during monsoon season.
Inter-knitting our knot knit into one cloth sewn from the same thread then bonded with an embroiders incision leaning against eternal promises, with great care and precision I notice his scolding gaze , find a fuse between our hearts with amps and volts as he triggers me with his persona

I want to sing , sing requiem as though it was never made for drama , find solitary peace in hearing his voice as I echo back with the sounds of nature as mine , vivid circles circumference us , as life solves our ratio as 1:1

Rukia Mohamoud Copyright © 2014

Literary Habits Of Alliteration

Mimicking the mimesis . meddling with metaphors . momentarily creating moments of suspense

Spiking a shock wave through your spinal , speaking of soliloquising your psyche , assonance assisting a sentence ,

Cacophonous consonants confidently causing cuts like a carcass on a coral reef,

Euphonies looking for empathy ,etymology enhancing the experience of eloquence ,

Fiction fixing the facts in to falsehood ,

Mythology making mysteries blend with history , mixing the minds of the masses as though on morphine , magically merging in to modernity

Rukia Mohamoud Copyright © 2014

Is it true ?

is it true that the world is getting deeper and deeper into economic depression ?

is it true that the world is polarizing ? 

that so many forgot about the beauty of cohesion
that so many forgot the value of financial stability

is it true that the world is blinded by materialism

that we forget the very importance of attachment , like John Bowlby’s theory
that we regress instead of progress in-to a world of gluttony

is it true the laws are flawed like Freud’s false theory ?

is it true that justice died long ago from MPD ?

that many forgot the true definition of right
that many love to act wrong

is it true that the oppressed are seen as meek and the oppressor is seen as strong?

that we forgot enduring pain , is part of firm resilience of a force that we conceive as ‘powerful’ but deems to be its oxymoron

is it all a lie, a deception we are living ?
or do we love the truth enough to accommodate it in our souls uphold it in our actions and speak it on our tongues , grasp it on our phalanges, embrace it with our captivating hearts
that no,
we will not cease to seek the truth

is it true that we live in the era of ignorance?
that the lands in-scripted , engraved with pensive knowledge have been dismantled ,man-handled , distorted
made as cemeteries where in graves , the dead morn
scholars and men of knowledge decapitated

the masses irate

or did I mis-state it ?
mis-taken for the many observations
I was nothing , but taken by my teeming conception
misplacing the knots of misconception

Rukia Mohamoud Copyright © 2014

 

I want to write

I want to write a poem

a poem so intense , that letters convert into lenses to help us travel through history

I want to write about untold tales and mysteries

a poem that causes nothing but misery

I want to write a piece about possible peace that makes those who read shudder from their crown to their feet

a poem that causes nothing but silence, halting the violent winds of war

I want to move similes so much as if it were emotions , frowning , smiling and crying

a poem that adds verbs to adverbs

I want to shift shapes like shape shifters

a poem that causes damage like aches and splinters

I want to write a poem as irritating as split ends and as heart breaking as split ends of the earth’s hemisphere

a poem that awakens unity and fears separation

I want to write a poem that sees , feels , smells and hears

a poem with less deprivation of expression

I want to never end this poem unendingly

a poem that adds new words to the dictionary

I want to write a poem that’s as perfect as symmetry

a poem that reconstructs and redefines geometry

I want to write a poem with acoustics and melody

a poem that I can dance to , one that reminds me of sun is shining by Bob Marley

I want to write a poem that’s as revolutionary as Marcus Garvey

a poem that stings like a bee and that’s as fly as Muhammad Ali

I want to write a poem that makes abridged poems look elongated

a poem that makes vertical lines look like your only horizon

I want to write a poem with side effects

a poem that creates remedies through ancient antidotes

I want to write a poem with musical sound waves

a poem that hits every note

Rukia Mohamoud Copyright © 2013

The King of Society

This is to the lion, the king of not the jungle, but society

Father, colloquially known as Dad

The mothers are the needles and the fathers are the medicine

Mother keeps you going with care

And father shapes your condition with wisdom and discipline

Although strong and firm with his scolding look of a hero

His smile is brighter than the sun’s rays and the moon intertwined

Without him life wouldn’t function, like the number ten without a zero

Life is Nil without him                                

Except that my first provider is Allah

Second I put my father

The weight on his back was for him as easy as one, two, and three

Though in all honesty it was a burden which even the earth failed to carry

The qax (War) does not come to memory, my mind and thoughts were too fragile then

But my evidence is with in the settlement I’m currently in,

Without him I would have been the child in which upon his head was a pistol

How evil killing unjustly, even an infant that is oblivious is under tension 

Tell the first lines of your name, and if you’re not one of us

Then BANG!  With in a split of a second you behold the blood and bones splattered on the surface of the ground or soil in which it bears a plant called qabil(clanism), killed because of division, because of disorderly thinking war mongers 

Alhamdulilah we escaped it, and I’m not left without my hero

Knowing papa’s struggles makes me produce tears from the glands of my eyes, although still in his presence

Even one thousand gallons of tears would not be enough to describe his strife

And yes this is to the lion the king of not the jungle, but society.

Rukia Mohamoud Copyright © 2013

 

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