Sips of dawning hues reclining on the gulf of darkened shade the resting calm within. These walls permeate with the crackling reverb of hope. Kneading a renew are the after washed bleeds of white. The siren beckons a howling of winds, a clamouring snare crystallises the view. No more are they ringing, the unhinged bells of self to the tune of a broken down bagpipes of doom. Lone is the note in a cordial fragrant piled petals of saddened morseful you. Untouched gathering of embers light the cloud of infinite cosmic lure. Come down to a pale grounding where silence halts our reverb calls for direction its the counterfeit and scorned truth. Fallen scribes and harsh remembering can make us foolish to our innate inextinguishable grief. These now dormant yet cyclical visions blind us from each other. Showing nothing affirming everything we sharpen the teeth of division and satire over conjecture. Closing in on itself the nebulous gates of reason void the delight create coercion and deceit. The air shifts and the beat of the drum synchronises to a millennia of life. But silence dawns after each long restless night.
To the depths of an icy cape thunders dense are the walls of this stone cold centre. Touched are the fragments lost to an ocean of darkness. Honing in and spreading out on a morrow that begs to rush into its now. Jolted at every turn dwarfed inwards these grooves sulked in and reaching further, these channels of vascular dread. Move me, for this laid-den crafted by frowns has passed. Bowing are the shreds of the past, stiffening down, prickling through the nerves inside my chest. Lighten my load and open my once sedimented and clayed heart. For that once stretched thin and winding road has become a vastness unfamiliar and dead to its own. Brewing are the teas of hope. Rising in the distance is a shrewd fog waiting to engulf us all. Make amends. Make amends. For that which we will not akin ourselves to will be brought down. Taste within those last meticulous breaths are rifting the two worlds.
Posted by Nayha Jay at 15:50
4th November 2013
"You need to know my communication about my most honest unfiltered impulses are a tightly shut mason-jar that i had kept on the top shelf of my mind, i took it off to take a closer look and its slipped right out of my hands when it comes to you. if this is what it means to feel a surge of thoughts for someone. Then I'm surging."
Posted by Nayha Jay at 15:32
Clashing and fleeting this smoke is a mighty gale swaying in each of its stroke is another dusty storm frail. In its wake emerges yet hung-short words. I am here and yet am adrift with waves off that raging shore. You come closer positioned gazing harsh but the overwhelming sense of horror becomes sharp at last. They mount whispers and call you unspeakable false these tiresome cyclopes seems to bore me alas. Hunching and seething brooding your way into their hearts. But what of the cries and ghostly sighs a scene impacted a corners dare revole as they change to the beat of a dead drum.
Order your squares and calculate the steps forward but deafening are the silent thoughts that escape these four walls. Spring to your feet and mark your territory, this lowly addition can not be cut. Masked are the red waters of this time. Caped in its shadows are truths well defined. We are here and our now will be the end of this lie. Static voltage burdens circuitry alive yet have I mutilated this body for its one last time. Sores fade and colour returns to the sensory core of all things. A humble wisp of a tamed wing slides out of my sight.
Posted by Nayha Jay at 13:22
Trust denied- love occupied - thought mastered - hope survived.
Travel longer than most to make us their own. Holdin on to an oblong fury hold. "i miss you" and then I dont. It's much harder drawing us in, till we cant see what it all meant, sooner or later we make for the door. Our minds made up, but what is all of this based on? who of em lied? them many are tricksters.
Making amends dont make you courageous. It's all to buy time, you're smoke and mirrors. Craft of giving, you put on a great show, got em to believe. The applause, your crowd, all gathered. But you still believe its my fault, I stood on the sideline watched my heart-ball kicked around. Being guided, shot and halfassed loved, your crowd, they cheered - but my heart-ball sank so they booed, hissed and called you out.
Posted by Nayha Jay at 01:33
When you're so close
Tinkering at the brink of
Posted by Nayha Jay at 00:36
Endless scratching burn connections smearing the sense of clarity challenged the myopic cataclysmic eyeliner perfect me here and now. Mull over this notion that we once hesitated this cry of endless numbness that manages tugging at the ends of your fingers. Bring me to the verge of enlight-strangement hold me a little closer to you. Feathering in this pale night sky is the infinitely lost you and I, might they bring me a little closer to you. Easier to untie thawing flesh threatening the concoction melted to remove subsequently conquered most betrayed alas not hope your hilting to a conclusion disappoints. Have I told you station elusive I must have many a time in a loop of sentences ringing like 10 church bells and 100 trumpets with 200 cigarette carcasses to encircle rings of sadness around my love-stuck-hunger for what seems to you.
Posted by Nayha Jay at 19:42
Chota Dev celebrates the inspirational and powerful team of Speak Sudan
|Rania El Mugammar|
Founder, Executive Director & Editor in Chief
|Manar El Mugammar|
Program Development Coordinator
Programming and Design Executive
Media and Community Outreach Coordinator