Sudan Bookshop :HOME IS BEST

Dear friends
Home is best is an experiment of human being finds himself live at nowhere. Under the terrible world of UNHCR.In the small village which is the earth globe.
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Life Boat


My thoughts
Is my life boat
That I sail with
Where there are
Singing birds, adored roses and butterflies
Away from standing pools
Of mask of disguise
And shameful lies
My thoughts
Is my life boat
To imagination and creation
and beauty I can live with truth
With my transcendental meditation
Not as a silly robot
With no rights of election and vote
My thoughts is my life boat
I will never
Live any more
Under their
Military boots.

My X Country


Oh that land and place
Of blue, yellow and green
Flag and belt
I can't live in with disgrace
I leave it with guilt
Oh that green tree
Of Kush* ancestor
What is happened??
From where do they come?
Those false traders
Of venom tree
Lock the sun and moon
Of truth and beauty
Those sickle sons
Do they come from beyond the space?
Enslave the soul of a man
Turn a woman into robot
Put the beautiful minds
Under their boots
Sooner or later
they will face their fate
what they seed
They will harvest.
Note: Kush* is an ancient Sudanese state

THAT DAY OF 11/9

Fallen of masks
Of mimicry and disguise
Is it a war of cross and crescent?
Or the old world system
Dead and demise
The cold war tools
Predate their creator
Come from a huge junk
Called and named Middle East
At the time of beauty and beast
A new era rise from
The ashes of big leis
Look forward not behind
Websites uncover shames
And games of all kinds
No place for hatred and disgrace
As the old eastern wisdom said
"An eye with an eye
Makes the world blind".

The Blind Dog

The master
Had trained his faithful
Doberman dog
To bark and bite
Every thing red
And to follow
bubbles of air
Over the snow bed
But after rise and fall
Of disgusting cold war
The blind dog does not
Find his way at all
It jump over the swimming pool
Unfortunately the blind dog
Cut his master red balls.

My American neighbor

It is a morning talk
With my kind American neighbor
While we are walk
Where are you from?
Do you know Africa?
No love
Do you know Sudan?
No dear
Do you know Darfur?
Yes I am. He smiles
My home is countless miles
Far East
Be good my baby
Do not join Arab terrorist
And don’t worry
You are in America
It is better
To be safe than to be sorry
You behave good I see
Yes I will
Are you Muslim?
Yes love. I tell
Ah..I hope Almighty
Will put you
In the coolest
Part of hell.

Fallen Of Mask
Those who act like
Pavlov * hunting dogs
Bark and bite
Their relatives in margin
Those curse sons
Of victims and mortals
Bones in mass graves
Will damn them
Upon all their disgraceful life span
Consider it as a fact
Those who follow
The bad fellow
Figures of disguise
In the junk of big lies
The Triangular capital and Republic
And still act so
At the time of multimedia
Do they have any idea?
That when ever they done wrong
Souring hearten and deceit
For Masters of chair and seat
Thinking no one know
But, every one know
May face their shameful fate
Then they will
Understand one day
There will be
No game to play.
NOTE: Russian Psychiatrist

Golden Gate
During hard times
Of no hope
When life current
Drag your soul
By a stiff rope
Can you imagine?
The sun of expectation
Will again shine
Do you believe that?
You will be fine
Don't look back
In anger, desperate and hate
Lively up your creative sprits
Believe in destiny and fate
Sure around the valley of memories
Walk in fancy cities and towns
Looking for smiley days
Do not let your feelings
And auto-destructive modes
Pull you down
Follow this wise talk
It will pass you
Through a beautiful
Golden gate.

Poison Tree
Stand without shame and rest
Faded green leaves close to chest
Single barren spot
Greener simulates vomiting homeless child
Suffering tropical diseases
Or false hair of a gay
Wandering around at night
In the back streets of the city of L.A
Borrowed from the scorpions
Had lived in the neighborhood
Their stun thorn.
When they decided to abandon
Their role of mortal games
Inject toxins
They traveled to the Holy Land
No longer return
It's Raw fruit
Chewed by sheep to no avail
Agitate it year after year
It's Fragile bones
Not suitable roof
For kitchen of Grand mom Alharam*
Or burning oven in the bitter cold winter
Suffer from lack of calcium
That do not come
With the American Aids
In the curriculum C.V of things
Was extended her octopus roots
Under the soil
Sowing poison and ruin
North and south with east and west
Killing all trees of shade, the fruit
And herbs
Butterflies, bees and birds
Parody of the ceremony
It remains Buzz flies
Stand alone
The damn Tree of danger
Queen of the desert
And The Waste Land
Cheered by Ravens, owls, locusts , mob
And strangers.

A Lonely Palm Tree In Sana'a
Oh you palm tree
Are you like me
Where is your
fruit and date
A nice true mate
Oh lark
It is destiny and fate
Of love and hate
Why you is you
And me is me
The breeze
And moon
Tell me that
Oh lark
I am a tree
Strange and pity
Stuck until die
But you lark
Of a powerful wings
Can leave one day
And be free
Narrate to all
My sad full story.

Box of Jewels
Enjoying my sense
Of beauty and creativity
With free soul and mind
Here I am in a jar of jewels
Of all kinds
I awake walk
Among the night
Where every thing
Is beautiful and bright
Like a pendulum
Of an old Turkish clock
From Hasba to Shaub to Bab Al-Yemen
Shrouded with Solomon silence
Of city of Sana'a and Sam
My foot taps and smashes
The street old stones
I play with my feet
A nice pentatonic tones
The humble breeze
Whisper in my sensitive ears
An old folk tale
About mountain of Nugum
That stand behind a misty vial
Like I charming mermaid
I had passing by once at Hada street
A bright glitter moon
Gassed at me and I
With laughing stars
High in the sky
Like children I see
Smiling at me
Behind windows of speeding cars
And Old Town balcony
It is a rare moment
That shows me alone
The wonderful dream and world
I possess and own.

Game Is Over
In land of braves
At time of cowered
Lie a big lie
Of false mortal religious state
Of aggression and hate
Destroying people, animals and plants
Souls are enslaved
Under mass graves
In south and north
With east and west
So try your best
And understand
Who deserve your vote and election
Where ever you at exile
Or in sickle home land and nest
Because your registration and election
Will put an end
For this terrible hell
Of hunting dogs and well
Then lively up
One powerful nation
Of thoughts and creation.

Strange Feelings
Oh Almighty God
What you have created?!
Dead or alive
Alive or dead
Bed and eat
Eat and bed
Weep or laugh
Laugh or weep
My head is my foot
My foot is my head
Lie is a truth
Truth is a lie
Precious is cheap
Cheep is precious
Deep is shallow
Shallow is deep
My boat is sailing
Day and night
Night and day
In this magic sea
No way!!
It is all the same
When I want to feel deep
I go and sleep
Dreams liberating
The diminished aim.

* Abu Hamour

Hive of bees
in the morning
with humble breeze
dressed in
Yellow, green, blue and orange
Neapolitan, Indian, Pakistani
And Sudanese
Maker of beauty
All over Doha city
Their faithful duty
like palm trees
life is give and take
Take and give
Not only fees
Even though
No longer at ease.

....
. Abu Hamour: Is the quarter of Labors from different countries in Doha/Qatar..

* Shell and Pearl

I See your
Soul shining
Across the shell
Like a drop of water
In rain bow
Like a pearl
Coloring and ornamenting
Your muddy mantle
Never gives truth
And beauty
That you can't tell.
Pearl is soul
Shell is body
Two are your
Either paradise
Or hell.



. Statue located on the coast of Doha town.

Shadows of defame


Getting from hell to hell
The Whisper of shell
Can tell
Tide has drag
Many corpses
Of men, women and children
Of that demised Nation
And state*
The Red land of anger, retardation and hate
Who can tell the truth?
Of UN – united nations
Of disguise behind the mask
Rubbing and ng
Mama Africa treasure and wealth
Not leaving any thing else
For Her Sons
Who dies at coasts and sands
A story of a sinking old boat
Scuttle enough to vomit
Those misfortune black worms
In the era of globalization
Of shameful games
Nations predate on nations
Is it conflict of civilization?
Or destiny and fate.
…………….

*Somalia

RISE OF PHEONIX
Two knights
At lands of brave have fight
Against odds and disguise
They sure so high
Above the sky
With two falcon wings
Of wisdom and intellectual
At that land
Of forest and sands
With divine
Blue and white Niles
A country like a carpet
Rich in color and design
They like painters
Of fine arts
With a noble heart
Have drawn a beautiful picture
That extend
From Kush** to new era
Oh Mahmmoud and Garang*
Is it a silly dream and illusion?
Or truth, that we can
Rebuild a new explicit nation
Out of the ashes
Of sickle and demised Sudan.
.....
NOTE: Kush: is an old Sudanese state.
Two Sudanese best intellectuals

The Reflections
During those days
At that land of Kush
Of palm trees and sand
I see her wondering
A among the ghosts
a women and fairy
With bald head
Dressed in green
And plastic "Alqmer Boba" shoe
Live alone, walk alone and dead
She plays her drama
Of this mysterious live
Not as every one do
She was a miserable actress
Out of the show
Oh childhood reminiscence
Can you create Eyn Shams?
As a hero woman
In a book of story
That no one knows.
...
NOTE:Eyn shams is a mad women lived in my town Mora at north of Sudan. I recreate her strange character in my novel"alsaggia"

HOME IS BEST

Every morning
When I awaken
By "three little birds
Singing sweet songs"
On the tree
By the window
Of class room
In Tehama school
That my nest
I fall under a total recall
My soul and true sensitive-self
That never calm and rest
Ask me and I
Why you are here?!
Oh you lark and falcon
Is it destiny and fate?
Of love and hate
Or conflict of chair and seat
Of cross and crescent
Whether it right or wrong
Living here in Solomon silence
Like a wizard and monk
Can you make a request?
Life is a precious trade
That you should invest
Do you memories
Beautiful Nile, palms trees, burning sand
And golden corn harvest
Summoned your sprits
Before sun –set
Follow the old wisdom that said
"East or west, home is best".

King Jock
His name is Jock
Dressed in military uniform
And heavy shoes
You never know
From where he came
To where he go
At evenings in the play yard
Supporting Alrabita team
His only life game
In Eldammar city and town
He always awake walk
A king of square No. eight
Without a crown
Drinking wine at
Bit Humri house of downs
I remember now
His wise talk
"Oh you son. Life is just a joke"
But, in Atbara River
He sink and drowned
And remain as a snap shot
In tunnels of memories
Of that guy and son
Of Kush ancient state.

NOTE: A man from south of Sudan .was lived in Eldammar at north of Sudan.Drown in Atbara River.

Great Mr.Adil .. I'm wondering how I didn't see your post before .. really great work!

Keep up ..

Will be right back to discuss with u ..

Quote: Will be right back to discuss with u ..

Good done Mr. Abd Alautiv
try your best to correct and cretsize evry poem, because I am going to publish it later. As an addition to the sudanese poor English library.

Moon Night Wind


I heard the voice

Of a man

I couldn’t see

Who spoke a language

I couldn’t understand

Who dreams a dream

Of a life

Returned or free

Just a man

Nation-less

With somewhere to be



I found a mirror lost

In a desert sand

Time falling from my hands



I heard a man

Who dares to speak

Finger drawn words

And dirty window seasons



Moon night wind

In a poet’s words

I heard in language free

Reasons to bleed

Reasons to believe



I heard the voice

Of a man i could see

Whispering tree

In a language

A man could understand

A cross a tree

Of life, growing in a deep sand.

Jude Aher*

and thanks for the beautiful words.
i heard his refrain when the signal changed he was playing real good, for free. joni mitchell
http://www.judeaher.com/

NOTE:An American poet and soul mate who catch the sound of the men walking in a chain.He host my articles in his web site.he send this poem for me and it is about me.

FALCON IN A CAGE
It is not my period
Of era and age
It is the time
Of scuttled salvation ship
The crew and their foolish pirate
And their miserable crimes
In pathetic land of Sudan
I am a Pass Finder and patriot
Holding the key of wisdom
Of old great nation
Of Napata and Kush
My soul is a falcon
In a muddy cage
It travels upon age and time
My soul is free
It sur-mounted with green loans
Of creative and glee
To mountain of Alburkal
Where prince Kaliot
The wise son of king Pia
His whispering on the antic stones
Sound in my ears
"this my massage to all
Grandsons and ancestors
That come after me
From done to dusk
With beginning and end
My words are gems and jewels
They never gone
With the wind".

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

When I was sitting on an antic rock at the bank of river Nile ,near the temple and mountain of Alburkal, among the night, under the moon light ,at far north of Sudan ,beyond the palm trees , golding sand and the ashes of an ancient nation and state of Kush and Napata ,where there was hidden a great wisdom of titanic kings and queens .King Piye and his brave sons and daughters.
I heard the whispers of my ancestors. They advise me that "Oh you patriotic and faithful grandson .It is your own task and duty to bring the wise grandsons from Diaspora over the whole world back to home land. For the sake of your people and clan .We are your treasure and gold. Tell them our stories of wise rule, equality and justice ,use your poetic eye, pen and papers".
They gave me the key of truth and beauty. Hence the book of poetry and divan "Home Is Best."
https://www.createspace.com/Preview/1088419