My Mother Tongue, and: Untitled, and: Home Far From Home

My Mother Tongue

From my birth to this age I have grownWith a language I call my mother tongue.A language that describes things in depthAnd detailEach sentence with a sense of belonging.

My mother tongue has guided my lifeTeaching me words likeWalaltinimo. Brotherhood.In my mother tongue we call people of all kinds walalo

And the word that is strange, that is really hard to find isXurnimo. Freedom.Freedom has been the key word of my people's speechEven though you will be told that they found their freedom sixty years agoStill mentally they are captStill mentally they are captivesives of others.

Biladanimo. Humanity.In our poetry humanity is discussed andJuged by many great poets, but it is yet to be extinguishedBecause my mother tongue taught me to see humanity, notBureaucracy built by those who hate unity.

With my tongue I say these words with passion.With these three words I communicate with the universeAnd the salve beneath my tongue tastes of love.I am not just pretending, but here I really speak a language of love,Kindness and generosity.

My tongue is good at composing songs.This feature echoes old knowledges.My language is an oral history,The only thing I can call mine—Part of my soul.

I want to share with you all my language,Because I understand the privilege of words.At some point it is the language of godAnd the foundation of ancient wisdom.Each day I will learn more about it,Understand more of it,And paint my dreams with words likeIxtraam. Respect.Real respect for writers and readers and listeners.For all.

My mother tongue speaks through the moon.My mother tongue contacted me with the moon.Let her know I appreciate her existence.

This might sound weird but she is my true friend.Through my mother tongue I have developedSkills that unite my circle around this worldAnd many roads that have led many writers to one moon.

Late at night when my sleep has faded awayAnd cobwebs of anxiety cover my brainWhen everything is wrongWhen I question the purpose of lifeWhen most of my family and close friends are asleepWhen my major supporters are dreamingMy world crumbles with the fear of who I am.

When unfamiliar voices surround my earsWhen depression leaves me in painWhen I am tired and tears have drained in vainI look into the sky so blueI see a circular moon wavingIt is sending me a breeze that lightens the heaviness of my heart.She says I am here for you when hope fades away—How can one take your freedom away?How can one destroy the hope of others?How can you detain the growth of the young life of writers?My moon wonders and tries to understandThe illegal business we up to as humansAnd how cruel we are to each other.Her patterns bring my sense back to existenceWhen life beats me down she smiles and saysThose too I suppose will pass, which makes me

Feel alive again.I try to write happier,Creative pieces of fictionMy world has become soWide and beautifulI get to know the power of humanityCan take anything from me but not the moon.

Untitled

They have imposed lawsAnd rules that have damaged dignitiesJustice has betrayed an innocent manDays and nights loved ones mournThe island is sinking with bloodBorder protectors have won the inhumane awardYou have left behind footprints of freedom.Unsolved caseUnjust worldShattered dreamsUnhappy moonCrumbled starsTonight your loved one is sadYour story has been toldThe reflection of your lifeIs featuring the news.I hope you're in peaceful placeFlying above the road of loveWith fearless wingsBeautiful viewAnd no one can destroy your vision.An apology can't bring life.As writers we are thinking of you...