Month: April 2018

Harder to describe yet easier to feel
Painful to endure yet beautiful to say
Of old saint memories locked deep in a sorrowful heart
Turned away from the light of positivity it sinks slowly into obscurity

Soul calling for help
Yet body refusing to heed
Mind and heart at war for who follows who
A disunity from within makes one a slave to every master from the outside

Shuttered thoughts
Sleeping heart
Eyes wide opened
In a busy-idled body
Sees so well to that which adds no value
For he that wishes to secure a good spot in the market
Divorces sleep while the bed is so gentle and sweet

When a man’s happiness finds itself in the hands of others
Freedom is but a price that comes when one bows to whatever is lord on thee
Hating others for what he has but yet have no eyes to see
And so often we become the people we hate in different situations

©Hamza Hajj Ayub

A wanderer in search for a home
Passing through the beautiful shades of the lonely woods he sees only trees
Could he opened his heart to the beauty of his path
Home is right where he is if only he finds the beauty in building one

A traveler in search for peace
From dusk till dawn he knows no rest
Craving for an utopia that only lives in dreams
Should he wake up to live his dream his peace would have manifest in ease

A lonely soul searching for company
From mr right to mr wrong none seem to give a perfect chemistry
The beautiful white lies could only stay for a while, but soon a dreadful reality is what unearths
For until one attaches to its soul no external soul can offer it comfort

Sometimes we close ours eyes to the pain
Hoping that by the time we open them back it will all be a dream.
Sometimes we kneel down and pray
For when all is done by our human effort our resort is but divine intervention.
Sometimes we think beyond the solutions that we enhance the problem instead of curbing the menace.
Sometimes we chase fleeting dreams when we could have stopped and enjoy the perfect reality that lies at our feet
And while we seek for manna from above
We could have built heaven beneath

©Hamza Hajj Ayub

A minute before the eleventh hour
Where the ambience of the peaceful night and the company of the bed gives one a peaceful sleep
Mama was called to duty by the screams of little Ayittey
Bereft of the warm embrace of her bed she dance to the tune of motherhood duties

Of the little coins from the toils and sweat of the hullabaloo in a frenzy market
Caught between two gravities from the load behind her back and the front pull for their daily bread
She smiles at the insult so as to put fire when the night embraces the morning sun
Only to comeback home for another episode of daddy’s bed meal

Ameley opens a new chapter in the miseries of her home
Warming every bed that calls for her service she brings to her home a protruded belly
Of what could a mum do than cry but turn back to embrace the thorn that Ameley has brought
On a bending knees she fell as she raised her hands above her shoulders
I don’t know how to pray she said
But I sure know I need your help Lord

So it is with our everyday lives
Of the little mothers give maybe all they could afford
Of how we appreciate could be all the reward they need to keep going
And of the miseries we make them go through they endure with smile

Let’s drop the smoke and make tall the mini skirts
Serve the home and not bring chaos to a desperate mum
For the beauty of a home lies in how well we exercise our duties

©Hamza Hajj Ayub