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A Sep 2015
The letters coiled beneath her pleading tongue
Griped between the veins with cotton strings like a marionette
Hanging in mid air
Only settling in her nightly thoughts
Still
And
Frozen
Motionless like the silhouette
Concealing a montage of words
That one lived
She was silenced as they haunted her
A Dec 2014
It settles in my skin
refusing to leave
Not wanting to hurt
but it hurts so deep
its sharply edged wooden point placed inside of me
I'm suddenly apprehensive,
Not wanting to scream

....I want to scream....


scream so loud but I'm silenced
By my agony
My lips are tied and zipped
I try to untie and unzip
Its agenda to destroy me is so formidable,
that it only neglects me with no other sensation
But serenity.

                                    © S Y A
Lol,Trying to get a splinter out of  my finger as we speak. Yes its pretty sharp. I think ripping my skin off may work?
A May 2015
.....A thousand snapshots taken at once.....
An eye lies before the lens
A pupil of oval shaped shames and sorrows
fiery eyes glowing at the horrors
then extinguishing,
blurring every single memory
until sweet is the taste like a juice-filled berry

A thousand snapshots taken at once
Where the shutter speed is slower than the clock ticking
But faster than the hearts that race in the silhouette of carelessness
Each shot resembling the memories
When darkest station burns the brightest fire
The wretched hearts forsakes the liar

A thousand snapshots taken at once,
The unforgotten are forgotten
Merely pricked on the brims of the skin
uttered in a crowd
softening the aching chests
Of cold hearts and propagandists

A thousand snapshots taken at once
Yet only one will be able to ****** the heart of humanity
For a day

The nine hundred and ninety-nine will be buried beneath the gravestones
while a vestige of echoes trail behind the innocents' sorrows

And the lives that were owned
are now read on a chipped grave stone

Their epitaph states, 'Unremembered'


                                                ­            © S Y A
#Poem #Poetry #Modification #Symbolism
A Jul 2015
Seize this day as if tomorrow may not arrive

But  tomorrow may never exist if it always turns out to be another today.
A Apr 2015
A spark of joy lays between the fingertips
And a spark of grief lays between your heart

As you place your frail fingers upon your chest
A sensation, a feeling that no other can endure
Pleading you stop, remove the enemy and rest

Whilst the chemistry works in the middle of your sorrows
Just stare back at the wonderful horrors

The pulsation of your heart interpolates your breath
Whilst your multiple senses  desensitize your wrath
Blinding your eyes, damaging your retina
Your love was merely the reaction between Mg and O

A spark of joy lays between the fingertips
And a spark of grief lays between your heart

© S Y A
Another random piece
A Aug 2016
As if we passed by the same trail out of spontaneity
I figure that we each carry pieces that fit into each others
But not our own
We are so selfish
So frightened in thinking that this is the end of the road
We won't give each other what we need in case we never find the pieces we will ever need
The cruelty that masks the inhabitants on this bit of soil
Recoiled and manifested their unholy native traits into our blood
Made us believe that selflessness was a weak act and empowerment lies upon scriptures of revenge; the book
"Its time for you to play by its rules so that you can live"
Rejection between blood, its survival of the fittest
In response to confession (VII)
A May 2015
That heaviness that sits on your mind for days
Trying to figure out what's causing the pain
Then realizing its a pile of mistakes....
I hate that.

© S Y A
In my thoughts.
A Mar 2015
She told me she would take a bullet for me
I was left stunned only recalling my hereditary
The horrendous guilt emerging all at once before me
Until I recognized her inactivity and realized she want listening to me
I dropped down on the floor almost instantly
Kneeling on one knee hoping her approval of me
Pledging allegiance so she knew she has the chance to consult me
Every time she recalled her children that neglected her for another woman they didn't know
Or the times she felt enigmatic to disown you
As she calls out your name begging to return home
Hearing your voice and having that bit of hope that one day
You mention her, get back to her and abide in her
playing with the golden precious sand
that make up the land which your ancestors once lived in.

I stare at the ruins that lay before me
A familiar face I stumble across
As I lift the grains of sand hoping its a person I know
Unidentified

I stand beneath the bridge hoping it will echo my freedom just like it did back home
I want to scream a thunder
but knowing its too late I'm pelted with stones
being told to go home
as I sit in font of the TV screen hoping I see a  familiar face before me
My country.

Hergeysa burco barebera ceerigaabo
Our cities names was never meant to be pronounced by you
The syllabols were never meant to pass your diseased lips
And the delicacy not meant to struggle through your rough throat
But they did anyway.
Every night I see the elan in her face
Whilst providing me with the decree of a fast spree from our relationship
The visions we incarcerate together
And the identical marks and scars we endeavor
With out any confession of our pleasure we seek forever
Our heart beat beats twice as fast
Forming a rhythmic percussion

simultaneously taking a breath of Africa
I lay beneath the golden sun as the rays shine through my eyes
Proudly defining the color of my skin
Showing that none other can be akin
As I am the uniqueness of this historical country

Mogadishu, bosaaso, Los anod, barberra
Our cities names were never meant to be pronounced by you
But when we look at our stars one last time
I realized that it has been colonized too


© S Y A
This is an inspired piece from one of my favorite poets. Just kinda tweaked it a little.
A Jun 2015
Such innocence hides
Such innocence exposed
Such regret shown
Through the grave stones

What pity you sailed across the sea
To the foreign lands that were sought to see
Through the baffled expressions
And nightly figures
swaying in the dark with opague aggression
Sealed windows blocking the sins
That fall into the hands of those akin
Yet the air that was filled in the heart
Was bursted with a thousand darts

Such innocence hides
Such innocence exposed
Such regret shown
Through the grave stones

© SYAliWrites
A Aug 2015
Not everyone has the same opinions or perceptions as you. The word 'normal' is what you make it, individually or communally.We are different people with different minds. What may seem normal to one person may seem idiosyncratic to another, but that's the nature of things.
A Jan 2018
as a matter of fact,
I am alive and breathing
conscious calls from my heart beats to
reprimand me,
'continue being a dead beat citizen of my street'
but i'm alive and that's all that is of me at least,
i guess its best to keep it discreet
lest I fall back into the trap of deceit
i see it from afar covered in cobwebs , ancient remains
it feels like its been abandoned for a while
i sit and contemplate about all the times i lived in there denial
an abyss of pure resilience to my foolery
i'm the joker at times and the bait other times
a bait to my own traps
i remain content but whither over time
A Jun 2016
Sometimes I would purposely never ask you about your well being,
Because I did it so often that I felt the sentences in my mouth poison my tongue as they readily align with my saliva ready for deliverance-ready to tightly grip onto my throat, burn to ***** the last bit of air that remained..
It's still far to much of a dangerous question;
"how are you?"
I'll never know what next to expect perhaps I'll start to retrieve my answers more from the way you speak or the way in which to sit or the way on which your mind runs it's thoughts. I guess it's a lot less painful than to hear your stories. I never really wanted to be in the same box; questioned and secreted. My job was to aid you, place a safety banner around you to secure your remaining fragments. But I held my emotions so closely to the fire and let the affection between us spark large enough to cause my skin to burn. And soon,  I learned that I am unable and unfit to carry your burdens with mine. So I threw my memories in the sea and carried yours in my sack.
Though you would never know because I will never ask,
''how are you?''
A Sep 2016
They say a person can’t hide from themselves but what if they hide in polluted air? Surely only then, the obscurities of their souls are hidden and faded away from the naked eye. The spirit lies in pure discernment in times, or at time were the poignant ending of their lives are none but self acknowledged forthcomings. I understand why some may not play by the book; they find loop holes or visual breakthroughs to get by their days. They say that man was never born for society and as greatly as they venture, a cloud of thoughts trail into memories, little can be done to forget and little can be done to be forgotten by it.
Perhaps the air isn’t dense enough to stop a person from breathing  but it certainly is enough to clog a thousand memories

Silhouettes harnessed to a scope only far enough to narrate that this world is like a rain storm except the thunder rumbles and it accepts its few seconds in the spot light but I, carry a surplus and let my rule in empty delight.
A Oct 2016
Parched are my lips
saddened from every emotion you feel
my voice apologizes
for my cowardice
I'm too afarid to ask
for every hardship you face
my silence is an assailant
kills every moment of bliss

Dried up thoughts and helpless gestures
It's as though I'm watching your body suspended
on to a cliff
My hands urge me to save you but my mind makes me wait
I'm not sure what is the right option
I'm a marionette

..controlled..

My mind
jammed
too afraid of what
May escape your tired tongue
tongue tied
bushwhacked
I remain broken
from selfdestruction
I remain at peace unaware of your destruction
A Aug 2015
My soul mourns and venom pours
Deadly
fascination as it begins to envy
Imperfections made through stitches  
Broken parts left in a ditch
Fashions a spark of glitches    
dreams weaved true Perfection
Interlinked like a paperclip Chain
No seal can brake its veins
And no heart can overtake
But the One who can remove the mistakes mistaken
And hours it takes
For it to await
Thus good things come to those
Who do wait.
A Feb 2016
Lies at the brim of your palms and through the roots of your hairs
Gentle; a forceful kiss settling on the surface of your cheek, containing a hopeful spring of acknowledgement
Yet you forget that the world is your home when you shed blood
and nature cries for us all to stop.

syaliwrites
A Aug 2015
She was so little
Yet so much as oppression could be
Discovered in her ribs
Pressing ******* the heart
Revealing spark of distress
captured in the beams that cause happiness yet discontent.
Mentoring her own soul
The deep thoughts she wasn't able to bowl
The words that would neither roll
The body kept inside of 4 walls
Angry Phone calls
that came crawling in through her veins
Pleading dismissal
Knocking on the bruises that remain
It still rains
Thundering tears that remain
Unseen.....Unspoken
yet  sensored through damaged parades
She grew up hating herself better than anyone else
Connecting each thought with an elixir
Of confusion
Haunted her own mind better than the demons that lifted off the shelves
Reaching deep into her body
Fracturing the foundations
Remaining each fragment
Shattering the blizzard of joy and
Draining all its impetus
Only as figments of its magination
Her actions that coincide with the alchemist's heartless box of incarceration
but a souless body is one with no purpose

What was her life if she had no control?
A Feb 2016
Earth has its very unique way of sharing its story. Be it through the depth of the sea or the marks in every leaf. Its a sensational feeling elevating itself and spilling the residue in a transparent pathway.
As clear as crystal.
From dawn to dusk.

syaliwrites
A Jan 2017
And within lies a pile; a morsel of threats
Designed to aquire the last savoury taste
Of her bones and flesh
recoiled with a salty flavour
swallowed with bitter bravery
Her After taste
Half smoked and medium rare anguish
Its can't take its hands of her temples she's designed to be the flesh that fashions Pain's skin
Her eyes become the fire that cooks its food  

Until death does well
It motions
And thrusts its hands adjacently
Gripping its nails into her pulse
A burn in chemistry
Ignition
With a spark of empathy

Until death does well
Shes is impaired with hope
Of solemn spoken prose
Designed to fit in between the gaps of its desires and her dissolved oesophagus
It laughs at the sight of joy that diffuses from her breath
The only energy it needs lies between her plead and its aggression  
Between defects and bruises
Misconstrued sentences
Explanations with default answers

Until death does well
The heart lies sunken
In a slideshow of mistrust and agony
In part heat and part pain and part of her will no longer feel the need to abstain

Until death does well
Hope has lost its place in her life
Pain has become her only true friend
Loyalty; everynight and day its with her
Its her lover, her protector
until death shes dead and burried in Hope

-SYAli
A Dec 2015
There’s a place printed in the horizon construed with profound love concealed inside of your heart
A place where you have never settled your pupils upon
A Place where your ears have never discerned the sounds of
Your fingers have never felt the silk, the delicacy of every breath taken from the erring lips of humanity
A place brighter than the coruscation of stars
Shinier than the shimmers reflected from the depth of the soul

Symmetrical

It feels like I'm in a zombie apocalypse; find myself captured and incarcerated in a tempest.
As the color of the sky changes I hear of deaths and rages
From all people of different ages scared of what the world will bring to them
So they forget that the world is their home when they shed blood, like rusty leaves dragged across the streets by the wind
I forget that I am a dark room
Consumed in silence, devoured by renaissance of hate

Salutes and whistling hoots
Upon those calling for destruction
The world that our souls abide in isn't one with sound security
The large books of recovery sit closely
Protected by clowns with crowns on straight hair or conrows
I wonder what's its like to be liberty's foe
Freedom is woman everyone is dying to have in their lives
If it was so much as an illusion then i guess its best that we sustain our "rights"  in these times
It's hard to find a voice when they've stripped us of our identity from the day we were born
Built the best nests of the finest twigs
With coatings of racist remarks and destruction's darks

At school we were always told to add  white paint to the black
Never the black to the white
See the notion of white savior pigmented minds, polluted hearts tracing hues of  charcoal
Now the kids have gone wild color blind and left trapped to choose between black or white then  red and blue
Gang signs and colored shoes
As if the bloods infuse
transfusion of life
and the crips buy you a pack of chips
these kids dont realize that the very pigments are of the same shade, the blood that runs in their arteries
Dripping like raindrops suspended from the deepest cut found scarred in their lips
Blue, the hue of the sky
They wished they knew their own mothers just as well as they knew *******


This is the place you live. It’s a place of recognition
A place where your heart never loved
A place where pointing fingers never pointed back at yourself
A place where you wake up every day smelling the burning of organic coal
A place where the drums of your ears scream damaged
A place where every print carved into your fingers cry for freedom
A place darker than obsidian
Darker than the grains of asphalt making up the patterned flesh

Fashioned

The sun wears its mask pretty well
As though every day is a masquerade it chooses not to lose the praise it stains in the t – shirts we wear everyday
Hear it in the thoughts of our prayers
It was always the mind that played in its forceful nature, a couple of shots to make your skin thicker, hands tougher, the teeth of your comb harder to brush of the falling debris in your roots and you still stutter.
The relapse of your words,silent screams contained to endevour all its pleasures
A heart yet pure in its majesty forever...skin smooth enough to pile a 1000 sins in the gutter
T shirt stains, pockets of memories to remember...
"Its so hard for anyone to show us how we look and its so hard for us to show anyone how we feel"
But its only when we directly stare at the sun, do we see the silhouettes of carelessness
A May 2015
"Indeed you were built strong and brave
Like a warrior bashing through a cave
Of sorrow and of emptiness
Crying when the world is bright to believe theres no such thing as darkness
Dealing with the challenges and mistakes that life throws at us
But learn from every single mistake anger-less
Stop giving into your weaknesses
Stop thinking about those who forgotten you and treated you effortlessly
Senseless  and affectionless
Let no wasteful man put you down with meaness
Only because your personality fashions a spark of joyfullness
Consume every wisdom with aggressiveness
Shed a thousand years of tears in a state of loneliness
Only so you can feel you inner self with consciousness
Be ready at what ever life throws at you with eagerness
You never lose. You either win or reflect with perceptive-ness
And just know to trust your lord with wholeness
Keep grasping upon the hardships you dealt with in the darkness
So you can look back and recall the roughness
Recalling every memory buried in your heart from all the sadness
And stand proud with your toughness
Once you overcome your glumness and drown in a deluge of pure gladness
and give glad tiding to the strangers"

                               © S Y A
A Lil pep talk to oneself. By the way, is perceptiveness a word? Lol
A Dec 2015
Some are not as good as others yet some are better than others but nobody can't not be able to climb the stairs. Life is all about effort and our good work (s). The greater amount of work we put in, the higher up the stair case we will be. Don't compare yourself to others rather, look for ways of improvement.
A Feb 2016
Move
You are impeding
My journey
Of self perfection


@SYAliWrites
A Feb 2016
Perhaps what has left you was harmful to you and you weren't aware and perhaps what will come to you will be better for you and you may not be aware.
A Mar 2016
I got me,
I got my own back.
A Jun 2015
Discovering the  gateway to heaven
Requires a road trip through hell.

© S Y A
#Life #reminder #happiness #heaven #hell #hardship
A Jul 2015
Live a life that leaves a legacy,
profound histories
Resting beneath the ribs
Waiting to emerge to this world
For others to remember
And protect forever.
A Jul 2015
Sometimes We just have to understand that,
We will not always be understood.
A Aug 2015
It was only time until death taught you
That death wasn't your teacher.
A Dec 2015
Success lies at the focal plane of realization. Once we understand that the weights of negativity we encounter no longer should be in our best interest to take aggressive action, we are floating in a space filled with achievements and tranquility.
A May 2015
Saying something and then at that moment realizing,
Silence makes the loudest noise.

© S Y A
A Aug 2015
The letters coiled beneath her pleading tongue
Griped between the veins with cotton strings like a marionette
Hanging in mid air
Only settling in her nightly thoughts
Still and frozen.
Just as still as the silhouette of the painting
Concealing the montage of words
That one lived
She was silenced as they haunted her
A Apr 2018
In a forest, where bird songs are silencers to a pistol and their feathers are scattered hopes, like broken dreams are to fantasies, I sit.
I stretch my arms, wide enough to fit grief and happiness in my muddy hands that I use to bury unspoken apologies and eulogies for days I have not yet lived.

I begin to stare aimlessly at the sky trying to spot the night moon. Its silhouette, that I trace with my finger.
I've drawn
And in the folds of the night, I hold you close
like day does dawn.

I let your depression stain my cheeks and see it drip between the gaps in my teeth,
sting my gum,
and so your language interweaves itself upon wounded scars on my tongue, so when i return back home, i return with the same cuts identical to your tongue that you hung


I don't want to sound too much of a stranger to you when I talk thus tonight, I’ll choose to tie happiness to things that have asked for no such burden
and stictch my lips silent to silence our silent violence.

My eyes bounce back at the hazy sky as if it’ll tame your inner broken and mould it into a less wild creature
more civil, more mature
less aggressive, less of a spirit

Your spirit appears in the bezels of my mind
my trachea catches fire burning deep into my whines ,
my breath disappearing into a silent hymn in the dull light
and watch my tongue chameleonize into a trillion hues of white
until my tongue becomes a graveyard for all my white lies

Until pain becomes a part of my diet,
until I'm able to chew the residual images of a broken girl, until her sadness becomes the air I breathe
until her inner warrior becomes the battle field never fought in
until I'm able to swallow sadness when chugged down my throat,

until I'm able to befriend your wild.
A Feb 2017
I was born to love everyone but I loved so hard the insides of my lugs tore apart. Sometimes I love too deep. In a city too dark to love in, we overlook the mountain and hedges that have pricked the life of us with thorns, banished us in places that see silence through congested thoughts. We sing Like a humming birds. Singing in attempt to abolish the very existence of our stars and the stars we shared yet, we lay quilted in stardust and the silhouettes of our shadows. They burst into flames or kaleidoscopes, a beauty, complimented by the prophecy of life itself. Sometimes we hope to speak like our words have lost themselves in the coils of our tongues but we hope to live with strength not habituated in settings of frost and snow. Our worlds don't intertwine but our hopes do. We seek refuge in prayer during the midst of our foggy minds and the very cosmos of our thoughts. We recite the soft speech of the holy book to excuse us from the blackness of the universe. Our souls wonder naked from emotions and exposed to our own destinies created with incompatibility and dissection.
A May 2015
Come on, let's be real
We are all trying to "help" each other
But in reality, its survival of the fittest.

© S Y A
This is life
A Aug 2015
It is all there in an envelope
The ****** ink
That defeated the acting demons
Or conserved the acting angels
A play in a theatre that lit up the night sky
Performed by the stars
That form constructional figures
of my future
I ponder
And ask myself the same questions
That now outstretch the oceans
Yet burry themselves beneath
Like anchors
I need answers
To keep me sain.
When you realize it's almost results day
A Oct 2016
Anyone who's trying to drag you down, is already down
A Apr 2016
I cast a shadow behind silhouettes that have reached their point of endless fears,
bricked and cemented with lifeless cheers
A small figure of honesty of what my hope brings
but its taken away through the mark of each casualty

the sea is beyond a place of confinements
precious souls waiting for their signs and
precious hearts waiting for their rides back home...

homes stripped through straws and eyes of populations
views which carry worthless words of indications
all the spit and nasty stares that compile,
nothing will accompany them but the ignorant's wails
Migrant crisis 2016
A Dec 2016
Lone wolves are the essence
Of warrior marks
Tatted in riddles with signatures and line imprints that age scars
It's sealed, with no cut or graze
neither of which can penetrate through
It's been protected
Created through burns and of black smoke
White washed heartaches
Living in a slideshow of paintings
Celebrations and chants
mistaken for a melody in a senerade
A confetti
A pretty painted canvas
With emotions of coloured paint
Splashes of ornaments
green hues
Bursts into kaleidoscopes
Strips of flower prints
Of a thousand splendid curses
Blinding to an eye
It leaves no traces of fear
But a mind in the magnificence
It leaves no traces of tear
But sealed inside hard rock skin
To protect the marks of the warrior

SYA
A May 2015
It is simply the way everyday words tediously used with no excitement,
are then transformed into:
A language for emotions
Song lyrics for the soul
Drinks to quench the thirst for our desires
Medicine for the wounds engraved
Oxygen for the dying heart
Beauty and excitement, needed in our lives

A breath of fresh air

For me, poetry is a way I can set myself free
Writing my deepest thoughts onto paper,
That is what inspires me.

© S Y A
Good Morning Awesome People!

— The End —