(to Amal)
Musical Child of May, spirit fierce  and
                   fair!
  Born to Spring when the cricket cheers,
                   or
Drowsy nightingale weeps in melody, to
                  beget
  A new breed that in future glory may
                  rhyme--
Here to the twenty, and a thousand to
                  come,
  Of all your soft and moon-lit mid-May
                  eves.
Strange how much change the passing
                  day reveals,
  Stranger yet how your heart, sweet
                  child, stays  in love; ever-truer,
Blind to what was or will be said. Glow!
   MayChild of that immortal season,  
                  ancient friend
To Hyades that forever mourn and weep
                  for their slain.
  Pray, MayChild, to lift a lowered world
                 up to a higher ground:
Pray for Mulki, avid, able, so full of life,
  And for him who from womb to tomb
                 trod his way too soon;
Pray for Leyla, hostage to a future
                 brighter than can be said,
  And for this one, humbled and defiant if
                 broken they say;
Pray for Ilham, a beauty that will burn
                another Troy,
  And for Kamal, princely and tall and to
                reign;
Pray for Fatah, to whom Allah left
               enlightening common minds,
  And for Sahardid, gifted with what for
               so many in envy crave;
Pray for Guled, made of the rare,  born
               for the  best;
Pray, MayChild, for mean and  hateful
               were not  said of you--
   Pray for us now and at the hour of our
               birth!
Tender  Star of May, beauty  blessed
               before her birth!
  Rich and loyal in  love, as  some are not,
Forget not: the ways of the world are not
               those  of  love:
  In a rugged world where  brutes tread
               their  petty ways of hate,
They break the heart that  shows love in
               full faith;
Venus, who versed you well in perfumed
             gardens of Spring,
  Knew that men's promise and trust
             vanish with the fleeting hour:
Consider Echo who, for love sincere,
             became  but a faint voice--
  Consider one might not be so loved by
             whom one loves so deep!
                                                           ­           
                                -by Hakim H. Kassim.
                                 (d. May 15, 1993)

No, I do not, cannot hope to bear,
 I would not summon my soul once again,
To be serious in love, and care and dare
To wear its colors and expect to remain
       sane;
For my heart, any heart! can be 'moved'
       only once!
Thus no more,  my dear,  I do not care to
       go that way--
To suffer woes in needless hope without
       excuse,
For how should I hope every night and
       day
To "own" another whom I met by
        mere chance?
So you may thus remain 'in -love' or
       'indifferent,'  as you please!
                      
                                  ­       -by
                               Hakim H. Kassim.
                             (d. January 30, 2024)

(for Khadija Abukar)

already you're in my my mind, more than
         a friend,

i met you hustled  and felt tender call of
        soul, yet find myself in wonder,

my heart leaps up at the sound of your
         voice, as if  i'm abound;

though far away apart by oceans,  my
          soul mingles,  high emotions,

and from day's toil comes to seem
          relaxed, at home in my dream
             where every night i meet you,
with the Light that'll save, too--

for it's been as we met, and is, true in
     stars that you may as well are
        the Promise;

you easily sit by me and soften
this poor soul of mine, which often

finds himself too much lost in your eyes,
and thinking of you, all the 'whys'

in my mind of this cold, cold world,
simply disappear,  leaving me bold

enough in my heart to dare cope
with whatever--for there's with you hope:

everything is happily open in the future,
only if you and I will act mature!

                                               -by
                                     Hakim H.  Kassim.

fatigued hope
weary steps.
ultimates--
   in surplus
" . . .do what's right."
dreams discarded.
times tried.
keys found.
years lost.
casts made,
casts kept:
hearts broken.
lengths paced.
parts on a limb.
"do as good men would!"
omens and murky sighs.
time will draw-in soon--
future becomes yesterday
where are you?
where, the dreams . . .?
what's in your paved face?

                                            -by
          ­                      Hakim H. Kassim.
                               (d. November 07, 2017)

Gorgeous eyes to soothe,
I see in you a heart of  truth;
TENA, you're already more than a friend-
For all day today, you were on my mind!
A fresh face, touched with rare grace;
From deep within your eyes and face,
Sweet girl, answer for me all possible  
     whys:
Why should I seek  another--
Yes, I just want us together!
              
                                       -by
                             Hakim H. Kassim.
                            (d. January 12, 2019)
                            /Jigjjiga.

THE PROPOSAL- (1).

just lost in your eyes,
for they are the answer to my whys!;
day and night, it's for you my soul weeps,
and  my poor heart for yours pleads,
for I love you so, by the exreme,
seeing well we belong to the same
       stream:
so between your ******* let me thrive,
there to rejoice in all love and life!
i do not mean less than for keeps
for my heart numbs at the mention of
       your  name,
O Love true & deep.

                                          -by
            ­                  Hakim H. Kassim.
                              (d..September 23, 2018)

the future,
an open voucher.
"son, it'll all be well:"
something wise to tell!
borrowings from the dark--
unexpected emotions to embark.
hefty hopes,
but only present moment copes.
foresight in eyes
means mind in sighs.
his son's point opposes,
trust in dad crosses.
in sound judgement?
not positive in movement!
felt brokenness,
betrayed and bitterness.
hate gave way to anger.
a loose hanger.
quite a weight to borrow,
so much in needless sorrow.
get a gun on the street--
"get to go on that beat!"
all's been the seeds
of murderous deeds.
counsel of possibility?
his was only blood in actuality.
a late fall evening,
and a clear sky with no meaning:
'tabula rasa of my own--
sailing to the unknown:
the morrow as a by-gone,
why, ride the bull by the horn!'
feverish turn.
partying with her you burn.
armies on the go.
none but their own to bow.
the goal straight--crowned,
what can go wrong?
dissipated dreams.
blood in streams.
foggy night grab the gun.
shot dad in the head and ran.
'unreal city!'
thought he's good and witty.
familiarity is a creed.
murdering your dad is not a treat.
in the mind lingers the stain.
hate'll deface your brain.
denial would be lonely grief.
regret will tarnish you like a falling leaf.
treasury to inherit now becomes but a
        waif:
how does a sweet past vouchsafe?


                                          -by
                             Hakim H. Kassim.