Sometimes my chest gets smaller and heartbeats rejects to stay anymore in cage of ribs. I have to set them free, there is no other choice. I go for walk and keep thinking about them. Finally I write, and my friends read them. This is the way I get relaxed and ceasefire between my chest and heart. The articles are my own personal experiences of life.
A refugee has the life like a tree. It grows up, and loses all after the winter falls. A refugee makes home, network and feelings to a place. A refugee loses all after moving to another place. I have experienced the same. A tree gets all back, i hope so does a refugee. I was looking through the window of my home. I saw this poor tree leaf less and ugly. i wrote this feeling in some words.
The morning breeze of November
Kisses my leafs and make them shiver
Slowly from the top of my branches
Dances down, and rolls a way
The early dawn through the jungle
Yellowish raise and reddish leaves
Sing the cores song of separation
Bye bye sun raise, bye bye the leaves
I am cloth less, I am embarrassed
No bird hides on me, no mouse climbs
I will be again bride, you will again love
The white snow, the hanging diamonds
Marble balls of the shiny ice
My necklace, my bracelet
You will be again jealous
You will make me again cry
The dropping tears open my necklace,
My white gown will depart
You shine more you kiss me hard
I am again sexy, you are again hot
Your lips are green this time
I am all green, all body hidden
You make me take off you make me on
You are very naughty, but honey
Arendal, 7.11.08
Sometimes when i look back to the childhod of Afghanistan`s children and compare it to the childhod of the rest of the children in peacefull countries, I feel as if we were not born baby at all. From the first day we have been a mature person indulged in all problems of life. On this topic i have tried to write a short poem which i have sent to www.poetry.com and it has qualified some rounds. It is now on public rating.
A blessed baby In the warm lap of mom
Away from sorrow Lives in no perils
Rich in love of mom Smile of papa
Wishes of all Welcome of life
Sleeps in spongy bed Away from ugly shade
Crawls toward mama Papa opens hand
Tries to stand Hold parents hands
Puts every steep Followed by cheering claps
I have never heard them Just escape, my child escape!
I played with bullets Crawled to survive
When took the first steep Struggled for the life
I was never born a baby, Since I have grown in the war
On the occasion of UN day the district council had a celebration. I was asked to write my feelings on this day. I wrote them as below (which were highly appreciated by local newspaper).
Life is honey
So sweet, so sugary
With smile of a baby
Its red spongy cheeks like cherry
Mouth toothless
Tongue runs out every moment
Bubbled water dancing through chin
How cute looks this baby
The wrinkle of mama
Wet with the tear of HA HA
Silky white beard of papa
Blows with the wind of HURRAH
This is the moment worth living
Every second to pass cheering
Suddenly a jackal of human greed
Falls on the roof
Turns the home in to ashes
Life runs away with flames
Smoke soars to sky
Mama is found lifeless
Father spread into pieces
The baby is alive
But, one leg!
The other cut aside
Through out the journey of life
A wooden leg hangs in his cloth
Can never run after a ball
A cycle never ride
HEY WAR LORDS!!
How dare you to be proud!!!
This tear of the baby
Will Mare in your nights
HEY WAR LORDS!!
Life comes once
Please, let it be lived
The way it is desired