mixed media + acrylic paint on Somali traditional fabrics, 2012
My Sleeping Queen
Khadijah
Follow my deepest thoughts
Follow my journey back to the rivers of my precious, blessings
Back to the rich essence of truth
My lovely heart
I call
Heal my scars
Pure soul
You
My queen, so blessed, I see you, sleeping inside the silent darkness I honour you regardless!
Wake me up with your summer-time-wishes
I miss your love
My heart is drowning in a thick mist, way up to the sky
Peace is promised in my fist
I keep it consisted
I’m twisted by different cultures, evicted by mine own shadow
– Rainbow twisters!
The west calls for my soul to gain riches
While I call for my culture, it is within you but I feel that no one listens!
Is it dying?
Where I’m I going?
Heal my blisters
My grandmother
My queen
Khadijah, Africa is you, you are more than my Africa
The mother of my mother
The guardian of my hido iyo dhaqan (heritage and culture)
Dusty sandals of my sunshine
I paint my pain in a dark basement
Bright colour lights for every word I say
Let the pain age in time
Let the pain age in time
For experience is beauty, wrinkled in my grandmothers face
I pray for your dedication
Admire all your strength
Your history is in the name of my future
You’re welcome
I always keep a smile on my side, safely by you
My queen, I see you sleeping
You’re dreaming about my ambitions
Look at the way I drawn you in my pictures
I wish you could see
You far away, on the other side of the world
Please tap on my back if you hear me
I hear you
My culture is on hold, slowly fading, sleeping right beside you
Forgotten is more than a loss, forgiveness is a must!
My queen I wish you could see, I am way up – I feel so alive with your trust, protected by love
I wish you could see
Help me!
When I can’t save myself
I am falling, holding on the edge – scratching on the skin of my bed
Oh, how I miss your truthful words
Never ending nomadic traditions, folk stories and mythical visions You kept it sacred
You kept it sacred
My heart is favoured by these thoughts
Little bubbles fill up my memories
My past, born as a traveller
The sweet scent of decaying trees, keep it strong, this will lead us to peace
Please believe my tears, you forever true!
I thank you greatly!
I remember when you used to look after me
From a baby to a crawling monkey, running through the sand
You held my hand and you hugged me
And sometimes in your right hand you would keep your spiritual beads
Preciously perfect
Patience plunders her pearls in a cold evening
Struggle and she breathes…
Struggle with some ease…
Struggle with some ease…
So let the scent of our culture rise
And let the pain age in time
Let the pain age in time
And let pain age in time
For experience is beauty, wrinkled in my grandmothers face
This is my letter to you, before you leave this earth
Sleep and rest on your throne
For you reached a humble age
My queen
My queen
I promise you I believe
Sweet dreams…
-Ahmed Magare
©Copyright 2012
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