Street Poets In Chains Poem by Achilles Mauko

Nothing shall stand between a man and his mind
Not guns, not prisons, not men in uniforms
So Poppa, Musambati Shira, Ian and volkanoh
While you make friends with the bugs in the dungeon
May your minds find peace in that owl’s nest
Let your souls be of sufficient courage,
They did that too, to the prophets before you


History informs the future,
So the past is bound to repeat itself in the present
Fifty years of independence, no liberty to speak love in the streets
But the streets is always right, so they silence it.
Don’t tell us how you want liberate Somalia
While in your own land you detain innocent poets,
Is it because insecurity in Somalia threaten Tourism?
So you trade your citizen’s lives to foreign exchange
Intimidation to the men wielding guitars, pens and words.
Whose main intention is to unite the streets
Meanwhile the tweeps won’t stop till they are free,
And today will not be the last time we trend


Worthy comrades, Poppa, Musambati Shira, Ian and volkanoh
For the love of the pen, the guitar and the word
They made you sleep, friends with the Vermin
Let the vermin gaze with wondering calmness
Quite interest implore the wisdom in your veins
With your suckled blood let them use it as an ink
To unfold the sufferings of street poets in chains


My friends Poppa, Musambati Shira, Ian and volkanoh
Let solitude stimulate your minds even to greater exertions
In cold cell floor, learn to write with be numbed fingers
Fair thee well for the present, comrades in affliction
For my heart is cold with the news of your incarceration
We will visit; follow you even in the deep, darkest prison
Meanwhile the tweeps won’t stop till you are free,
And today will not be the last time we trend