"To part at last
      without kiss,
 Beside the haystack
       in the floods."
          -William Morris.

I cannot give you
   reasons enough,
I do not myself
   understand

The loud lover,
     praying in sin,
Or the pain of those
     who sin in prayer.

A good-bye hurts a
    hundred times
       more,
Emptying the soul,
    embittering the
       heart,

Much more than a
    fatal spear-wound
       would.
The happy love is
    flown, a by-gone
        glow;

Locked in memory's
    gloomy corridors;
A mere past, life
   imprisoned in grief;

Robbed of fulfillment,
    future condemned
       to tears,
Gazing sadly over the
   prey of previous
      existence.

A good-bye hurts.

You would not be,
You could not be,
Without drawing me
Into you 'mood,'
   on anything
        yours,
******* me around
     just for  the heck to
        see!

  And carry  me close--
     your 'loved' son
For whom you
     wanted to be the
         one
In charge and in your
     seat after you're
         gone;
And so I laid all else
     aside, faithful to
        your call,
So heard your word
     alone, and only at
        your nod had it
           done!

Then you were
     nightly fed evil
      misunderstanding,
As loving hearts too
     often are prone to
         slipping
On malicious dice cast
     by envious others,
        like 'echoes
           travelling
From the center like
     horses' wildly let
           loose--
Ah, and the brother
     who so wept to you
          over my
             sorrowing!

  I was mistaken---
As one of them days I
    had to awaken
Just to learn that you
    were taken
In death, and left a
     denial of my little
        rightful due:
'A will' contradicting
     the Qur'an, with
       father's love
          proven false and
             forsaken!

How night and day I
      stood by you and
          more, a willing
              sacrifise
At your fingertips, no
      question devoted
          without lies,
Deferential, tireless--
      surest among your
         ties,
I lived entire years
     suffering, accepting
Blame for anything
     that came to your
         mind without
           asking 'whys .'

They who put false
     love in token arms
Around your deluded
    dying head with
       seeming charms,
And falsely called
    whatever words
       you uttered
         'perfect
            and wise'--
Who led you to
     deviate from Allah's Holy Word
And thus corrupt your
     love as father, and
        so die in
          foresaken
             esteem--

Came around your
    coffin the day you
       died, perchance
To lift their heads up
    boldly, and with
       your 'will' in hand
          trace
Every bit of every
     thing that ever
        belonged to you--
           at once
A final heartbreak
     showing that
       together we didn't
          belong in spirit,
And that love, like me,
     was a mere
        pastime to you
          albeit parental
             disguise!
                                    
   (December 18, 2021)

Beauty of the
  world, don't we
    so belong?
Say--oh, say it to
  my beating
    heart!
Or, if in too much
  nerve you can't,
Just jump, jump
  onto me so fast!

Angel in spring,
  don't you see
    my heart torn
      wide open,
Unable with life's
  turmoil tocope--
A living
  testimony of the
      ways
By which one
  finger alone
   doesn't wash a
     face!

Come, O come!

Come and see
   how I cry
Forever without
   tears,
And the years
   wane and wax,
With me waiting
   for you;

Come and see
   this soul
That has yet to
   learn to laugh,
And how life
   wears
On a heart
   wandering
     meaningless
       in Time;

Without your
    sound and
      soul;
I am the heart
   that beats loud,
Waking up
   Bodari among
     the dead,
Waving for the
   ghost of Romeo;

I am the blood
   that runs fast,
Leaving the
   familiar and
     the known,
Believing in the
    uncertain to
      come as
        Reality:

I hope to see
    soon
The Light to my
    Life,
The tender tears
   to my thirsty
     eyes.

In a world of dying
Meant to hide its meaning,

There are no highs,  no heroes,
No sweets, baby, only woes--

Sufferings  you gently leave at once.
Death comes to you only by chance,

Never till  you feel complete and ready
      to go,
The Killing Angel stands sleepless and
      on the go;

High and twice  above the clouds by
      measure
Is his knee, collecting souls at pleasure;

Throwing this to speeding cars,
And that to stupid wars,

And, whatever the reason he gives,
He nonetheless just takes.

No use! all love is but a preparation
For something there's  got to be for a
       notion,

Yet you and I must be content with the
        end
Of Love as 'streaming eyes' and with
       nothing to amend!
                   -by Hakim Kassim.
                   (d. September 10,  2016)

hot.
humid.
dream in the dark.
wet thoughts.
drowsy nightingales.
hemingway's tight-tongued
     heroes.
summer shower.
july miracle:
do we mistake love for lust?    
     -by Hakim H. Kassim.

dust.
crowds.
rain.
'asc?' voice of a young
        girl--
belated recognition.
summer at end.
smile.
love-laden look.
silence of--
promises scribbled
       inside.
hope.
heart.
thought.
walking home!
'a world without end.'

      -by Hakim Kassim.
       (Sept.04.2016)

(for Khadija Abukar)
already you're in my
    my mind,
more than only 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,
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--
       there's with you
          hope:

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

                     -by
           Hakim Kassim.

MEMORIES.

where there's no one,
i rejoice a whole
      world!

with nothing on
      the ground,
i hear but love in
      sound;

with nothing to
     see in eyes,
i alone enjoy
     green fields;

when there's for
     me no beat
gabriel lends his
     hand to complete;

smiling faces by
     me stand,
eager to hold me
     in hand;

all i've is not
    today's world:
for i find new joy
    in the old.

for all my joy there's
    but one place
      where i run, time
         and again.
where i play in
    its blessed rain.

there i never feel
    alone--
but feel, know i
    am the one.

alot of me ftom today
    is left kept and hid,
so much of me
    there is lit!

not a thing for
    me is vain,
what a world of
    joy to gain:

for there i no
   more grieve.
there is but joy to
   weave--

not anymore for
    me to miss,
all joy is mine at
   will, this!

             -by
   Hakim Kassim.
  d. June 08, 2017.

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?
-NOTE: the words quoted in line 43 (" 'unreal city' ") are from T. S. Eliot's Wasteland.

(for Muhubo Ali-Nur)

LOVE.

morning breeze.
the world at ease.

cordial days--
onward, in blessed ways.

your future in another.
wanting to be together.

. . .wishing on a star?
oh, in love we are!

trusting the unknown future--
for with desire we act mature.

will there be a broken heart?
we'll never be apart!

for keeps, forever:
to fall out? never.

my idea of the pure?
well, she's my only lure.

eclipses in soul,
for time's no one's fool.

so much goedwith the  good--
so much good above mind and mood!

            
                                   -by  Hakim Kassim.
                                     (June 08, 2017).

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.
    -d.September 23, 2018.

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 TENA, answer
    for me all possible  
     whys:
Why should I seek
     another--
Yes, I just want us
     together!
                -by
     Hakim Kassim.
     (d. Jan 12, 2019
       /Jigjjiga)

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 . . .
.  . . your paved face?
   (d. November 07, 2017)

-YOU.

the morning-sun glows in a Promise so
      celestial,
over your tender face, a soul too dear, too
      adorable

for this world  (of envy and hate) itself to
       astound
over  you--a Beauty, never seen or heard
       around;

reflecting in seductive rays across your
      face, with me stricken with your
          gleam,
your heavenly charms which I only fancy
     in my best dream--

that lip that I'd not tire of kissing but in
     my wishful unrest,
and those ******* I long for beyond what
    can be expressed;

a willing prisoner, I'm lost in the mystery
    of your eyes,
and not with my hand, but with all my
    heart I  glimpse your thighs;

your quiet, indifferent airs, your smile
arresting me in heart for longer than a
     while---

remembering, like seeing, you easily
     drives me  most lonely--
of all women, for Beauty aren't you
     the one and only?

                              -by Hakim Kassim.
                             (d. September 03, 2024)

Jigjiga.

bygone pleasures.
outside,
looking in.
insistences.
cold January.
missing link.
battling shore.
windy evenings.
no point trying
    for it now.
summer is not close.
i nor love nor hate as
     such--
our love IS more than
     that:
i am used to Jigjiga!
           -by
Hakim Kassim.

flight,
light.
change. . .'plse!
plse understand!'
hindsight,
through the night.
no love lost,
'america' divorced.
'america' contorted
   me--glad it's deported.
the devil'll come out of
     "america, yes,
ask me, I'll attest.

autumn.
dreams, into ideas.
windy eves.
the far-away look.
tree-leaves.
dark eves.
wuthering heights.
firewoods.
a world in the yellow.
release.
warmth.
quiet.
intimacy.
looking.
time off.
promises anew.
'we'll see.'
          -by
  Hakim Kassim.

snow-windy.
ice in raindrops.
hefty ventures.
brookner, anita:
latecomers '89.
thomasses,
just too many.
mind-plays.
churning hopes.
wrestle.
some way out.
'i did love her then!'
mind-quake.
regroup.
by-gones.
grave-yard stuff.
'oh, now: you & i.'
     -by Hakim Kassim.

LOVE LOST-1.

alone you had for
   me the words to
       soothe,
you alone could
   touch my heart in
       truth--

you remember first
    you  kissed
       without a sigh,
and that answered
   for me any
       possible why;

you called-out to my
    soul for home,
and I then sought
    myself no longer
       to roam,

and ever since then I find you close and
    dear,
never too far away, you were always
       near:

no more! for you're on my lap no
       more! no more!
so much alone here's sickening and
      sore!

in the bleak December eve dark
   with wintry
       breeze,
in my only thought
   are but images
      of you grasping,
         to caress --

and over the fire of
    my , O! dream that
       never was, as I in
     my mind fall into
        unquiet pose:

a willing casualty in
    anticipated dream that, with me, has
          become but a soul in stream--

of tears, of pain and
    love, of you--
stark reality, an ever-
    flowing end
        too!
                 -by
    Hakim H. Kassim.

nods, gracious,
quiet harmonious.

reborn gleam?
recalling the  dream.

wanting . . .
feeling.

siezed in wonder,
left to ponder.

sound  in  melody:
some  sign--suddenly!

no, don't be too curious,
it'll leave you serious!

heart cries,
time flies---

mind tries,
the eye sighs--:

words over ocean---
hope in motion.

truly harmless,
not a license for
    happiness.

look deep down inside,
beyond bounds of pride:

'no more excuses,'
the poetic mind muses

my hand grabs  your
   thigh,
but you left without
    a 'bye,'

ah-and to where 'lost?'
when I  need you  most?
     -by Hakim H. Kassim.
      (d.Jan.25.2022)

slightly expectant--
loosely hopeful,
investing in process.
slow.
hopes indefinite.
inversions--in heart.
reflection--in motion.
the  core--in a
     passing smile.
future is had.
raindrops.
evening walk.
lone self.
imaginings.
her exact look?
... heavenly eyes?
a world in balance.
thoughtfulness.
patience.
waiting, but why?
open hand,
a palm in need!
on my own, what?
love, and thought.
                -by
        HakimKassim.

TO HER I BELONG.

silence on lips,
in heart it all kills!

real love calms and
   grows--
like a well-nurtured
   rose,

ever-blooming
  through the years,
never stained by
  doubt and fears.

here she loves and
   cannot give her
      hand,
I'm in deep need for
   someoneto
      understand:

you're always on my
   mind!'
I've nothing left to
  lose behind---

all and only to gain
  you is before me:
God, would that it
  were left as it
     would be!
                -by
      Hakim H. Kassim.
       (d.Sept.23.2018)

Eyes I saw full of me,
I search around, yet cannot  see;
  In the tumult and the dark,
I remain stuck with their mark;
  I have forfeited hope and  health,
I seek nor fame nor wealth--
  For I well know all only  fleets, nor
Care nor Love to meet!.
                    
                          -by Hakim H. Kassim.

Eyes I saw full of me,
Blue, or brown, these
   now pass by me,
The lore of Love thus
       defined
Remains unspoken,
   though refined:
To where is he gone,
    she in muttering
       tone asks;
We've left so much
    for the WASPS;
Now, retreated for
    Allah's sake,
Where can I, for her,
    make the bake?
For us, for Love,
    where to rest and
        reign?
To escape all of pain? 
Hello, God, hello
       Saints,
We're your guests,
    should we have to
       pay our lives
          with rents?

My love is as much
     as ocean,
  My vision as deep
     and true,
My intent in holy
     name of devotion;
  Mine for keeps cast
     on ocean's blue!
          
                    -by
          Hakim Kassim.
         -d. June 29, 2023
          /Jigjiga.

Come winds, from afar and and near,
Charge, waters of the  world,  to sweep
Tyrants out who use  humble fellows with
           no care
In corporate classes,  for profit to reap!

Oh, how false and  mad-lived is this!
Trading their human  nature for only
          dollar  in truth,
And despite what the  mind urges to
          enlist---
Love, and Care, fraternal hope for youth!

To where is wisdom  gone, does any one
          know?
Will Corporation  give care and love?
It's false for other than Allah to bow:
Will dollar keep them out of  the  grave
          and above?
              
                         -by Hakim Kassim.
                           (July 15, 2015)

"Leaves of Life" (1990)
      
But the bonds of birth,
   of life and its toils,
Planted by me
  Becoming, never Being,
To the bright hearts
  of those 'forever loves,'
Cherished by them,
  though glorified by me
     only,
Stand tall against my
  thought of  trip.
Many a time have I sunk
  in deep thought,
Wet and trapped like
   a caught fish, in doubt,
Many a time have I
   heard my heart aloud!
The riches and rages
   Nature endowed  upon
      us,
And the laughs by Fate
   at those who fail,
While hand in hand
   working together,
Reward each of us
   by  merits of known
     deeds:
Peace to him who
   persists in action,
To him poverty who
   rests in pestilent
      wealth--
For the world belongs to
   him who knows how!

i've not been  given a chance.
to speak out my  mind,
let alone pour  out my  soul at once;
i 'm still seeking a way  to bind
wound i suffered that remain tense,
on myself and on others i love,
forever vivid and true  in real sense--
a surreal weight over my soul
      unwilling to move.

                            -by Hakim Kassim.
                             (d. March 01, 2023)

I am he who  through
    that long November
       night
  Watched your eyes
       with untamed
         delight,
Earnestly travelling
    into the mystery of
      your mind;
 In the highnoon of
    Love we heard and
      spoke the same
        notes;
I am he who once
    held you in willing
      arms,
Unknitting wells  of
    passion beneath
       your heart;
I am he who wrote a
    Writ with you,
Sowing in your heart
    a Promise not to
      break the shared
        bond;
I am he who, in trust
   of  love, am a voice
     echoing in the
       skies;
 Faithed, in a leap for
     your love, and your
        hand, and that
          look in your
           eyes;        
The sea here sheds
   tears as it the earth
     crushes,
  The shore beside me
     pains as water race
       back to their
         depths,
And I am he who with
    confused past
      shares the anguish
        of the sea.
  Farewell!
And now I turnto be
    living with your
      memory, without
        blaming fate.

     -by Hakim Kassim.

(for Sulekha Amin
     Omar)
"Omnia vincit amor."
                    -Virgil.

I see vast seas asleep
     in your eyes;
And mere smiles
    that pour joy into
       my heart,
I see in you a blessed
    beauty unknown up
      till now!    

I see you as the sun
     treads westward,
And arrows spread as
     blind sky reflects
I see you alone among
     all who under the
       sky live!

I see the delight you
      bring to a troubled
        spirit
And see the dawn of
    New Spring as you
      in my thoughts
       come ,
I see you all the time,
   Darling, lest I Love
      You forevermore!
                
       -by Hakim Kassim.
        (d. Dec.12.1989)

It waves hard, like
  An ordeal of times
       past;
Irresistible, it wears
      down
 Wilfully mortal
    endurance;
It worries, like
     summer sky,
  Setting the soul
      breathless;
In woeful tone the
     moth
  Haplessly weeps to
       stars;
Longing, infinite and
       vain,
   Furnishes the mood
       inside;
Outside, nighingale
       still
  Sings through
     the vacant autumn
          sky.
                       -by
             Hakim Kassim.

-Lament.

           ".  . . without hope change  
            In sleep she seemed to  walk
                forlorn."
                           -(fro) Tennyson's   (poem)  
                            "Mariana" (1830).
     (for Diana, who inspired the poem
      in  visionary gleam)

And so you came  loaded with  lament
   Of  all the world  aflame in your  eyes,
           so calm and wide,
Grieving perhaps  over 'might-have-
           beens,'  yet with intent--
   Sorrow the kind   that had no home but
          with  restraint in  pride,
A kind that made  you not weak but
         aweary  by  adverse  tide;
  Then sat yourself  before me in  quiet
          unease,  sweet  mournful
 Letting go of all. you truly are,  all you
          could  really  do--
So much lost to  an unfair world  that
          neither  revered the beautiful,
  Nor shielded  its weak  from its
          cruel  cold! a world  that had no
               chance for  you--
An indifferent  world that never knew
          you for real,  for true.

                          -by Hakim Kassim.
                           (d. Dec. 14. 2021)

(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 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)

You coud cut the
  distance then
Between us, and now
   you come when
I have left the living
   years of times ago,
Together we had shared
   no tomorrow,
Only too many todays,
Oh, our ****** father
   and his ways!
So much lost in the rain,
We now shake over in
   pain!
A world of give, and no
   receive!
In silence we look, in
     sacrifise conceive--
Loved faces are gone,
Here, new ones in our
   ways!
  
-d. September 13, 2016.

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 Kassim.
   (d. January 30, 2024)

(for my wife, Huda
     Hassan Osman)

As on the wings of time
          I fly,
And pass over the years
         with no sigh,
Winning and losing
         with no cry,
This prayer I make in all try:

That I lose not your face
       night and day,
And find you by my side all
       the way,
Then come what come may,
I shall have kept all gloom
       at bay.
              -by Hakim Kassim.

"By foriegn hands thy dying
         eyes were closed,
By foriegn hands thy decent
         limbs composed,
By foriegn hands thy humble
          grave adorned,
BY STRANGERS HONORED,
          AND BY STRANGERS
              MOURNED."
   (emphasis supplied)
          -Alexander pope."Elegy
           to the Memory of an
           Unfortunate Lady;" at
           Line 51.

Lovers that apart
   might
Reclaim their
   mastery over

Their wry hearts
   again,
And with
   pretentious smile

Might mask their
    wounds.
But you, lovel who
     departed

To sleep under the
   quiet grass,
That you may in
    solitude find

The peace with earth
         divorced,
Left me alone, a
    
broken  heart:

Our promise of yore
   is now no more!
Nor can my
   weakened spirit
      peace attain,

Nor can
   remembered love
      bring me relief;
Nor can gloom offer
    me release,

Nor to any distraction give
         myself;
By divine chance we
    happily met,

And by divine plan
   we're now apart,
As this year's grief
   teaches me in
      truth:

Consider the death
    of one so loved,
Merely such love's
    polite recusal!
   -by Hakim Kassim.
  NOTE: This poem, "Requiem," was made in honor of my father, Dr. Hussein S. A. S. Kassim, written soon after his death in March of 1994.

We call each other by
      names,
In fact all just rolls on
     and on with no aims--

  Just the routine heat of
     our daily 'talk;'
If it then be that we in
     harmony no more
       'walk,'

  Nor with joy together
      quietly rejoice,
Then, though it troubles
      me inside, yet I've
         no choice

  But yo leave you,
     dearest, unattended
By the passion I've
     borne FOR YOU,
       alone uncontented:

  Let me to injustice be
      done,
Than do it myself--from
      which in heart I
         shun.
   -by Hakim Kassim.
  (d. November 25, 1991)

The library girl

Sits alone, absorbed
    in ghostly in
      ghostly ancient
         Greeks--
In the deathless
   thoughts of what
      once was
Passionate Sappho
   or truthful
      Sophocles;

Trying  tirelessly to
    chaunt their
       language,
To revive their
    gleam out of dry
       pages,
For long hours
    devoting to get
       back, back to
          them,
As she finally falls
    asleep in her
       exhaustion;

A homage is paid to
    the old 'Glory' in
       nap meditation,
And as this heavenly
    beauty travels
       through history's
          clock,
Safe in library
   warmth from the
      discomfort of
         winter snow,


The desk-lamp
   twinkles: It's time
      to go!
                 by
     Hakim H. Kassim.

Pardon this heart that
       gloomily bounced,
That it may in this life's long
        night
Restored somehow be to
        household of peace,
Which, in grave or before,
Can give relief to owner's
                pain:
   >It is concerned tears that
           aflame flow,
   >Which render fatal fears
           so nearly real.

                    i.
From when reason first
     stroke the race on Solon's
              tongue,
Strong stood and made its
      roars heard,
To the ears of that trouble-
      gotten Hellenic year,
Whose winter of rage
       brought drought to
            intellect,
Convenience wounds it at
         chance in every age:
   >If 'winning' we see
          when guns roar,
   >Then dark be right, we to
          all beauty blind!

                      ii.

(for K. Briggs, Portsmouth)

     All that ever was
        joyous, and clear
         and fresh,
     [your] music doth
        surpass "
             -Percy Shelley.

I do not know the
   reason why
The world turns with
   me when you walk
         by,

With a thousand
     words scarred
        across your face,
Breaking down my
    defense with a
      casual gaze.

Morning or evening
   when you walk by,
My heart skips a beat,
   lost in the 'you-and-
        I;'

With your light step a
  vivid link to a higher
     grace--
At a different time, at
     a different place!

Your eyes turn away
   as you pass, as if we
      were kidding one
         another,
As if no two were
   meant to be
     together!

You go your way,
   leaving me lost and
     amazed:
So much said in so
   little expressed!

      -by Hakim Kassim.
      (d.January, 2000)

(for Ifrah Osman Dahir)

The purposeful look,
    a passing smile--
My eyes fixed at a
    whole world all the
       while--

A world of joy
    through figure
       lean and smooth,
And what a world
    you're for my cares
      to soothe;

By a sudden turn you
    look at me with an
      amused frown,
Caught me off-guard,
    my eyes hurry to be
       withdrawn:

Yet deep in me
    somewhere you
      caress and touch,
Speechless, I'm lost in
   your lean figure  
     maybe to match--

For you're to me of
   that indelible Dew
      from Heaven:
No words need be
   said, you're beloved!

For I see scattered
   across your face,
For which with fiery
   desire I yearn to
       gaze;

Ss if you sought to
    clasp a stretched
          caring hand,
I need love, a heart
    willing to
       understand;

Your cheeks are rosy,
   though you seem
      not to care,
I have nothing to give
   but all my heart--all
      and bare!

You seem somewhat
    tired with this
      indifferent this
        uncaring world:
Yet I hear and see you
    up and happy, not
       as cold;

No one grows sick
    and tired of love,
And the unrest in
    your face sighs for
      a move

To come--the saving
   Knight on a
     Horseback:
Can I be the lucky guy
   no less the worse?
              
                   -by
            Hakim Kassim.
           (-d.Oct. 31, 2018)

New spring wind, a
      cold  sick fate
  For me that I've not
      seen you for years,
Though I loved,  and
      still do, forever
             in-wait-
 Ah! that you  come
      but to quiet these
        my lonely tears;
I need you now more
     than before,
  Spring may come,
     and  summer
       follow with joy
        and laugher,
Something without
    you is broken at my
           core,
We parted, a long
     time has passed,
        I've not been
           alive after
  I've come to see your
       smile no more, no
          more kiss
On your lips, that
       sound of your
         voice--are you
            not now dead,
  And where are you if
     alive, where's all,
      the love and
         promise,
So much time without
      you, our years are
         closing-in, soon
            to be led
  To sudden goodbyes,
      then the eerie
       silence of lonely
         graves
   Where we cannot
       meet,
O me--was that all
    Love gives?
                   -by
         Hakim H.Kassim.
         (d. May 01,2023)

(to  NAH_)

-REAL LOVE.

i see it all over and  with
   you,
all i ever needed
  and  want, love so true;

i see it in your eyes all
  aflame-
looking at you, inside I
  cannot  remain the
     same;

maybe minds,  Dearest,
  but hearts know not
    how to lie,
and so, Beloved,
  so  revered, I just
    wouldn't talk by

to My heart's  Beloved,
  not to  you,
i know language
  of  heart is true, sweet,
    holy and so true--

let's rejoice that
  we finally found one
       another;
for you and me, 
   Dearest, there's no
      other.
  
                     -by
              Hakim Kassim.
            (-d. July 19, 2023)

I see it glowing in
   your eye, so new,
  And on those hips
     of yours, tender
         and lean,
Hosting Beauty in all
   its breadth and
     depth, I see the
        dew
  Of a new dawn in
     my heart and
       soul, to win
A new horizon
   abrim with joy and
      with you lived in
         peace;
  Like Aurora in
     early-dawn  mist
       carrying those
          'milky thighs'
             that forever
               men's
                hearts deem
  To beat too fast,
    speechless in the
     quiet utter loss
In truelove's holy
    light, unable to
     awake, or dream
  And so is my heart
     in your  palms,
       whatever you
          say, wherever
             you go,
No words can
   express what in my
       heart wanes,
  What feelings, what
      thoughts, what
       hopes in want--
Nor how to your
   ignorance I cannot
     explain my pains,
  What with your
      love I see and
        know,
          you just can't
Imagine in your best
   mind, all things
     being equal:
  Of Joy, and Love,
     and all in holy
         light
Of truelove; but alas!
     as theirs is a
       cry without
          content,
  The moth and the
      star, so truelove
         for you will
           only be dream
             of night,
Never to breathe
   daylight,  never to
      live what was
        meant
  With Joy,
    unconditioned
      love with no
       second-thoughts;
Your "Hi," said with
    a tremble of soul,
     with a defensive
        smile,
  Still self-conscious--
     treading with
       needless pain,
Worries about
   tomorrows over
      which you hardly
        control for even
          a while,
  And second-
     thoughts that in
        our love you
         cannot explain,
Though in your
   mind you sport it--
     where's the joy of
       love you're
         supposed to
           live, anyway?
                     -by
      Hakim H. Kassim.
      (d. July 31, 2023/
       Jigjiga)

"Too many fall from
       great and good
  For you to doubt the
        likelihood."
  -(fro) Robert Frost's
    (poem) "Provide,
    Provide." (1938).

Too many have
      come  and gone--
  Too many sought
      and thought--
For you to have lost
     or won;
  Too many want to
     get to their dreams
         in steps light,
If only too fast they
    are washed ashore--
  Or left out to
    be 'acquinted with
       the night,'
With no second
    chance, beaten to
       the core;
  And too many have
     put their love with
        trust
In brute, brute
    another's heart,
  In the end with no
    love but driven to
       dust;
Why, too many fail to
    give another
  Try, impatient to
    treat with hate
The very lover with
    whom they
       felt together,
  Hence with no heart,
      and for nothing in
         hope to wait.
  
                  -by
       Hakim H. Kassim
      (d. June 06, 2023)

Wild wishes, too high for worldly tries,
  Celestial glows that do not fit into Time
          and Place,
Lost love's tormented hopes and  cries,
  Come with fresh face at my dooryard.

Wild wishes, desires  that cannot be
         quenched in poor world's weak
             arms,
  Joys treading my footsteps from Heaven
        above,
  All my loves long ago, my sweet
        heart-felt urges,
Of all I ever seek, of all I ever wanted
         in heart,
Beckon to lead me to Higher Houses of
         content.

  Wild wishes, her face, her eyes, and the
         love I have for her,
FeelingsI cannot put aside no matter
       what,
The deep-felt dream of uniting with her
        in truth,
She comes to me riding high on Wild
       Wishes for my hand!

This is what happens
      when your own
         past--
Twisting and turning
      with you at some
         midnight hour-
  Becomes you, all
      over again at once,
          all too fast,
Overlapping you,
       heart and soul,
          strenuous in
              power;
   Precious memories
          posted to
             unchartered
                future;
Each note of thought
      wearily clings, too
          often
  But a scene with
       yourself,
          demanding
             an answer,
Yet within past
       content, drifting
           you to
              give-in, just to
                soften
  The unintelligible
     trail, past wishes
        revived in ardor: For, without the pain
     of the past, can
        there be future?

            
                    -by
        Hakim H. Kassim.
      (d. March 25, 2024)