The Somalidoggodafricanamericanstringblackdicktyingwomen.

The Beautiful Somali woman



My aunt: Hibo was in the air force

was in the police force

and her husband is from



"What's the happen"?

her son, suffers from

something like 

Narcissist, JLO

She is a Narcist

and her son Ahmed

homeless, in prison and

drinking in the the floor



I was watching television

and she called me: Hibo

I broke my back

my sister Fawsia

is a social worker


My son, the one married now to a Bosnian

and the other who has a good Job


Hinda and I talked when she in Beligium

and me in Holland, the Netherlands

and we talked about her chronic illness

Alocholism, and I told her, I will send her book

and I hung up the phone, by pressing the button

on the phone, Hinda called me back and I told 

her you have a chronic illness.


She is in England now and lives in a nice neighbourhood

and her sons are in the US, studying and working.

Their father " he's not a go getter" is in Ethopia


And Poole, is there now telling him what his

probelm is, and why Hindi did not love him

or any other man.


Poole told him many times that she does like

men who are Somali Christian

because they are not fun, do not drink, do not go to parties

and call women whores.


I told my spiritual partner that I am,

and I am, I am

and he was confused about my religion

and I told him I was Somali, and he was 



I told my husband now that, that he had to covert

and he didn't care


I have an aunt, she is funny, and nice

to talk to, my mom friend, she says she is illetrate

or my mom tells me that


She is Turkish and my mom does not know

and She is in Syria ans loves her friends


My aunt Hibo has her friends, Iraqis,

and she wants to have a beauty product Regina


Asha, my unlcle and her use to party together

and she use to go the beach with us

and she took us an illusionist


My aunt Hibo and her family are rich, are in the military and

they do not tell anyone.


My aunt, also wrote a book about circumcision

and my uncle is now looking into what is going on in the world

his brother, Case is also living in abundance and we are celebrating

a beautiful Eiid Al Adaha


Anaab, my aunt is really a nice person

and her sister is a spiritual person

and her son is my friend

and her daughters, 3

are really rich


My mom's sister, is broken

and only cares about money

and all these years has been in court

to take all the money from her husband

who died: his first etc. wife, she has been

in court with for over 30 years


My aunt, my Mother's sister, three

are in, in hell, and 1 of them victory

that what he is called, works

and maybe will win, and his mom

will give the money she has been fighting for all these



I just spoke to Saudi King, his Highness, Holiness

and I said to him, you will lose and the Wahaabi's will

win, have won. Eiid Muburaak!!!


Author's Notes/Comments: 

Please go to, for "fair use" rules. This poem is copy righted. 

Brother Come Back

Won’t you come back brother, won’t you come back?

To be here, to share, to laugh, to mock!

Living expands the minutiae,

Your gift of perspective to apply

Brands and flavours of love, challenged

Shock, upset, designed to be “different”?

Barriers created then dissolved

Clinches, partners and acts untold

Passions twisted within cultural sterility

Gasping, choking under ecclesiastic decree

Emerged to uncover your own reality

Become whole, unified, male, happy?

god plays dice?

You rolled and lost

Your right to change foremost

No entity should demand that price

Don’t come back brother, don’t come back

To be drugged, to suffer, to cry, to be mocked!

Reach contentment, know love for all,


Be memories, be ashes, be a plaque on your wall.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

18 years ago today I lost my Brother, he died in a very painful manner but discovered a contentment he had not had

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Born with death holding your hand

A child born a victim of aids his life number by days.
He was born with the reaper holding his hand.
There is nothing but pain and darkness ahead for a short life.
No mother to hold him or sing him a lullaby.
No father to protect him from the bogyman at night.
This short taste of life is no more than bitter sweet.
I'm now looking into your eyes seeing you taking your last breath.
Doing all I can so you don't go just yet.
The only one to prove you were here in this world if only for a short time.
Why do I come to a stranger bed side just to watch and hold your hand until you die.
Here you lay in my arms, another abandon child thrown out in the wild.
Why have I decided to come and hold your hand?
What was I seeking in this journey?
Maybe faith and God, but with the suffering I've seen I’m not sure what I have found.
Now my little friend it is time for you to finally rest; I whisper as I watch you take your last breath.

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