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That dope shit got us the cope

Hopes that we needed but not for liking of the cops.

Drops of bloods paint up streets.

Crates of liquor keep popping up.

Each day we wake to news new bodies been chopped up.

Each crib making their mark,

Stark contrast to our history.

Mystery that baffles us.

Hit us like rifle.

We are dissolving like trifle.

Hopes are nullifying

Hell bent on verbal crucifixion.

Fixated on lies, vices and dices,

Giving deaf ear to community cries,

Me and my brothers got to look after our father, mother, father our children in cage called minimum wage.

Hostage on a stage, full of carnage.

Get over this rage we need turn to new page.

We need to engage.

We need remove the faulty gauges.

Minimize the damages.

Rebuilt an image.

Turn to new page

Not too late

Lanes still fresh from blunt of hash.

Flames are spreading, we are   still on crash course, we are still drowning in ash.

Shallow graves  flooded by souls on lost cause.

Nose bloodied. Bodies battered. Dreams shattered.

Underneath city of lights.

Sights becoming blur.

Colours evaporating from all around. 

Cloud of desperation covering over.

Hysteria taking over.

Hovering over like predators.

Agitators are winning.

Spinning the truth.

Tainting it to maintain, sustain certain of degree of control.

Prowl over the place for next victim.

Next enactment, next banishment.

We have become casualties of their entertainment, amusement 

Placed under legalised confinements.

Subjects of a duopoly.

Simply the collateral damage of a power play. Engagement is practised as leverage to Confuse the sight of carnage.

Goliath and leviathan rains their sins on us, the masses  passes hate but it not fate,

It's not too late to stop this narrative of predestined fate.

After every darkness there is light and we fight for that light - forthe people of Peshawar

Among us we Install fear, darkness.

But after every darkness there is light and we fight for that light. We pray to God show us some light, so we can shine so bright they can't lay sight on us.

You many have the guns to run havoc, mocking at us. Rocking our way of life.

You can go low to provoke us but we can cope with it, you can't invoke fear.

We will tear down you to your core, world be witness that your nothing more than a sore losers. A poser who shielded himself with delusional ideologies. 

We will take no apologise for those your ill mind conspired to kill. You can't  kill the human aspiration till oxygen pumps in our respiratory veins. 

You can take aims at us but it will go in vain.

We know pain will rain on us but every darkness has to give way for light. We will go to new heights with you or with out you.

#peshawar

Heavy hearted phantoms

Depressed bodies pressed to wall.

Compressed, suppressed 

But still obsessed by  politicians.

The vey practitioner of this trade.

You parade   after them.

Inflicting pain on rest for momentarily gains.

Ignoring very reins that permanently dislocate, isolate us.

Among us we install fear, darkness

But After every dawn there is light.

And for that light we fight

This is for those who defied realm of human understanding.

With standing against all the hate.

They did not take shelter in predestined fate.

I am talking about Marley's, Martin Luther's Mandela's.

The heavy hearted  phantoms  who haunted racist, fascist

Whose legend  stood test of time.

Legacy never endangered. 

Today these renegade's stories are important than ever.

To rise up against the tyrants, deceivers

To forge up our own destiny 

Passion

Spanish Inquisition or Iraq invasion.

It's not passion of an ordinary man.

It's penned by men in mansion.

Who hold generation of men to ransom.

They crave more graves than Adolf Hitler.

These are not builders of civilisation.

They criminalise the voice of unconformity in the name of unity.

Equating unity with uniformity.

Labelling our Heroes with tag of insanity.

Equating tyranny of few with democracy.

Filling up fallacies and hypocrisy.

Filling streets with dope lead hope.

Teaching every lost crush,job exam can be coped with dope, dope light up your day, enlightens you.

This is the plight of my generation.

Blinded by blingers and swingers.

Our existence is endangered more  than ever.

The fever is spreading like wildfire.

Tiring and tearing us down.

Filling up pockets of the rich.

They are making so much money they themselves have to pinch.

Media equates reality with rating.

Crafting an oppression never witnessed before.

In these moments of adversity, brutality we see heroes rise,

Whose war cries rise our hope.

Who helps to find the our passion.

Passion is the cushion for us. Those who do not live in mansion.

Passion of our heroes ended the rule of those who held us hostage to unseen ransom.

Seeking that passion is trouble some.

But we can't crumble under that excuse,

We have to refuse the teaching which confuses our perspective.

We should say no to all kind of domination,

We should not fall because of our own erection.

We need to pin them down and win.

We have to win. 

Imagine

Imagine tangent of growth line adjacent to distributive justice line.

Imagine a domain of existence with out famine.

Imagine every soul shines so bright that Earth would out shine sun.

Imagine a race who would not forfeit,  a race who would not give up with out a fight, a race for who sky is the limit.

Imagine a race who emit positive vibration full of warm braces.

Imagine Cooperate vultures replaced by cultured cooperates.

Imagine oppression replaced by reconciliation.

Imagine segregation replaced by integration,

Imagined retribution replaced by fusion,

when our heroes go bad, dreamers go mad only thing we can rely on is our imagination.

Power of imagination is incredible.

It's impossible not to smile.

Shakoor,Nigaaz with attitude, Naaz, Run DMC, DMX, Bob Dylan, Bob Marley, Biggie Smalls, Muhamadh Ali, Martin Luther King, Mandela. Mahthma Gandhi, Oliver Tambo, George Orwell, Geroge Harinson, John Lenon.

Who taught us though miles  apart we can inspire each other.

So do not bother about haters.

Let's Lift people out of despair.

Let's conspire for good.

Let repair broken bond.

Lift up the hood, let's change the world

Let's start new chapter of human history with our imagination.

Imagine that.    

Pseudo Patriotism

Neopatrimonialism has eroded the nationalism, enforcing pseudo patriotism.

Law of self fulfilment has flourished, lead to eruption of a corruption.

Corruption of mind and moral alike 

Corruption of old and bold.

 loyalty is put on hold while every one seek  their own gold.

This story is folding and unfolding before us but we take shelter in petty scolding.

Holding on to the old grudges like very crutches we need to walk.

Those who  talked about change did  more of the damage leaving behind carnage.

But still we are paying homage to this Roman age idealist.

Who are not more than hate mongers wrong doers.

Killers of man and women. Killers of our aspiration for better nation.

Happy Independence Day Maldives!!!

Elevation

Socrates,  Spartacus is just another apparatus,

Seek your crust ,Which is just crowded in dust

While you are shrouded in the mystical celestial  world ".

Paying homage to unseen bondage.Been hostage of own imagination.

Failing to illuminate.Cumulating humiliations 

Visualising the  annihilations rather than  conceptualising the reconciliation.

Hobbs, Jobs all had belief in themselves rather  shelving in with their selfs.

No elfs are there to pave the unseen roads.

Foreseeing the future is the personnel obligation

Which can't. be always delegated, If so you  will be relegated you  need elevation its not a revelations.

Alchemy algorithm algebra trigonometry geometry are just periscopes

You need google out which is your goggles 

It will be not with out  struggles

   

  

memories

I describe you as hypocrite, some kind of culprit.

I know you are going to rise like Phoenix, shine like Sphinx of Egypt.

You are encrypted, crypted. Difficult  to decrypt.

No longer i subscribe, prescribe to that.

No longer I inscribe your name.

But I describe you as beautiful, helpful, insightful.

Dreadful at times but delightful

Full light and fight.

Those memories are real stories  of you. 

Brownies, stationary we bought together.

Stuff we brought to each other made us  better.

But latter it did not mattered as we battered, shattered our dream with own hand.

It became mad man's world put on hold.

Molded in to something cold.

Now it's old.

But memories worth holding on to.

My Genaration

We are bounded by Vicodin powdered enlightenment.
Amphetamine powered indictment.
Hounds round us up, dislocate, isolate us
We are rebels with out cause, tumblers, stumblers, mumbles ramblers.
My generation replaced calligraphy with pornography.
Democracy with mass hypocrisy.
Fantasy with ecstasy!
We have new slave masters. Pasta and Rasta's
Enduring fame of shame kept conquering us.Shattering, Slaughtering us.
Still fascinated with masturbation and deep penetration.
We seek prophets in Ayatollah, Mulaah, college drop outs.
 We seek humanity in insanity.
Hallucinogenic agent became pageant of life.

That's my Generation 

DOPE HOPE

Dope is rope that help us to cope when there is no hope.
It helps us to a certain extent, like a peasant income.
You are not perfect but some benefit from it because you bought it with out a thought.
You funnel down the tunnel with out any light, You are giving up fight.
That is not right! You are just shaken up! wake up!
Heirs of throne would not mourn for you.
Do not light ice and other vices.
Lets not tie our hope to rope, which cant cope it.
That dope isn't any hope.
Do not submit your self to some chemical composite
Lets not seek dopamine in alternate aims.
Its bleak, gives you serotonin famine.
Do not fear to be wrong, be strong stay away from bong.
Do not cling on to hinges of syringe.
It drains you like there is  no rain.
Stop blaming yourself, start taming, reclaiming yourself!!

Story of My islanders

I am going to tell a story. An old story needed to be told. We are outsiders in our own back yard. We did not have a place to put a front yard.
This is the island I am talking about. Not the island with “linked road” which broadened ego and shortened our life. I am not talking about land where knife takes life. Do you hear me, care to know where I come from.
We were battled but we settled. But they tussled us at every corner.
Now ,my people are known as hustles.
Don’t you think we don’t have our own castle of dreams, full of light beams? We won’t give up without a fight. Which is what you say!Right?
See that’s my people way of reaching new heights. We do not prefer prison cell. We want be referred like you all.
Cultural narrative has shrouded clear perspective. It has become attractive and people are reactive to it.

I am not talking about propaganda and mass agenda of center stage; I am not talking about a place where cunning and stunning takes the stage. I am talking about minority. Nobody's priority
We did not only lose our land. We lost more. We lost our core. When we took to the new shore, there was niggle and struggle to come from where we call our home. We were outsiders from inside. We shored outside because of government enactment. Of course it was same as banishment.
Some took to the resorts and became host. At cost of our most loved ones. You take us as emblem of social problem. You take us too troublesome to think about.
Yet you think knife is too worrisome. You seek humanity in continuity. Constituency and liberty seems to be your property not a constituent’s necessity.

To feed your greed, you breed a creed to do your read. You feed on us like carnivore. Who hover on its prey. We pray to god show us some light in this fight.
We wrestle not to hassle. We bustle to be recognized and immersed in to organized society. We do not want be submerged, We do not want be remembered, membered as the rotten or forgotten.

My nation :Maldives

Autistic, optimistic,pessimistic. Do not restrict people to this labelling. 

Stop cabling this story to my generation like Troy.

If so no innovation can save my generation, only reincarnation can!

Go through trouble, hobble over the rubble, find your inner rebel.

It is crucial, we need endurance like Durecell!

Name on your initials is beneficial but it's superficial.

We are nation of commotion, we need emotion for solution which end up in collusion.

We need get out of this illusion, illuminate like the sun 

Son of this nation bring back some fun.

I am not taking about history or prehistoric mystery.

I am talking about the  street I grew up,

Every one had his crew, but few were shrewd enough to have own curfew.

We are horrified by death tolls but some glorify, personify it.

My nation has been cursed and bruised by own.

Torn and thrown at cartels. They shovelled unseen  brothels on our throat. We bought the flame.

It's lame to say we are drowning while they crowning new kings.

Be the light, take the fight to might. Show the sight of our forfathers 

Make them realise, conceptualise dreams our forefathers and their brothers saw shoulder to shoulder with elders.

Let us bolster this nation,  foster participation. Let's not be small cluster, let's not shelter in this.

Hope is to cope for the future, do not loop on "NOPE"

He is from Addu, Rasdhoo, Mandhoo' Huvadhoo, Kudo, Mandhoo, Hilirendhoo, Thulusdhoo, Thimarfushi, Horafushi.

He is from HadhunMathi or Thiladhumathi.

Let's run over this divide, burn these wides.

Let's make it glorifying to say you are from unified Maldives.

Let's build a destiny, let's us a create a dynasty  with dignity and unity!