Tag Archives: Fatherhood

Gareth Bryant vs. Annam Choudhry:

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Author’s-Note:
Every month I’ll be conducting a Poetic-Challenge, challenging various poets, whom I personally know/interact with, just for the sake of sharpening/improving my own poetry, general-goodwill, respect for my fellow “Brethren of the Paper & Pen”, and to just see who from among us has the best “Poetry-Skillz”…Every month, I’ll be picking a brand-new Poetic-Challenger, via Facebook/Twitter, to compete with. This month, it’s Annam Choudhry. Next month, it could very well be anyone of you. So, just be prepared, with some fresh-rhymes.

Topic: Mothers

Gareth Bryant

Gareth Bryant

Mother are like no Others:

She carried you inside her womb…
…Inside them, we grew to bloom.

In Arabic, Womb means Protection…
…From disease, as well as infection.

We were evolved, developed inside her, for 9-months…
…Though we occupied her space, she didn’t care much.

That’s how much she really loved you…
…The mark of commitment that’s true.

When we came into the Mundane, they dried our tears…
…She rocked us to sleep, calmed our freights and fears.

She taught you how to spell, read and write…
…She taught you how to dress and be polite.

While our Fathers taught us about toughness, they taught, showed, us to love…
…When our peers encourage us to seek vengeance, they teach us to forgive.

Fed you from her plate, starved herself, so that you would have the lion’s share…
…But, when they need us, to help them, we cast them aside & we don’t even care.

Our mothers kept us in their bodies, for almost a whole year…
…The protected us, but, now, we fill their hearts with much fear.

We have the audacity to raise our voices, when they tell us something that we don’t like…
…And, as mothers do, they always are willing to do for us, like nothing happened, so nice.

When Fathers die, or run away, it’s the Mothers who stay the course, and hold things down, without any such complaint…
…This is why Ummah, meaning Society, is from the word Umm, which means Mother; their contributions to our lives great.

Gareth Bryant/2014

Annam Choudhry

Annam Choudhry

A Mother’s Love:

A void that cannot be filled with anything other than Allah

Because when her soul has departed from her body,

There will be no one on the face of this Earth

Who could love you like she did.

Accept you like she did.

Hold, mold, break, shake,

Make you like she did–a mother’s love.

Her body made you, flesh and bones, only by His Will

And no matter how many times you would break the fragile flesh of her heart

The shattered pieces would come together, a perpetual miracle

Because of the Mercy and love placed in it from Allah

A mother’s love.

When you entered the house late at night

Wiped your feet all over your mother’s rights,

Know that it was her love for you that wouldn’t let her go to sleep

And her love for you that gave her grief

And her love for you that kept her pleading to Allah

To protect you from harm’s way, to guide you,

To make firm, in Him, your belief.

A mother’s love.

She enjoyed your childhood for a fleeting moment

Working to feed you, check by check, time stolen

Diapers, Gerber, Similac;

Tears and wailing, she often thinks back.

Though times were harder, it was much sweeter

Because her baby couldn’t disrespect her

But you could as a teenager

With your oppressive behavior

She didn’t know her baby would become her slave master–

Sign of the times. But even when time’s a changin,

What remains the same is

A mother’s love.

Don’t abuse her, ‘cause one day you’ll lose her

Place yourself in the future

Nothing will bring back your mother,

your mother,

your mother.

So love her.

Nothing will bring back her love.

Annam Choudhry/2014

My thoughts on my father:

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Author’s note:
I know how much having a father has been important in my life, regardless of the fact that he wasn’t even a Muslim & died when I was very young. I thought that it would be good to just share this importance to you all-I’m often left thinking, to myself, that if my father could be the man whom he was, without Islam, then I owe it to Allah to strive towards being at least half of the man that he was, with Islam. This particular poem is meant to celebrate the utter importance of having a father, generally, which domestically in the U.S., as well as other parts of the world, the status of fatherhood has really become a pathetic joke, not taken seriously at all, and we’ve all been more & more bombarded with this global, socio-culturally-influenced/encouraged “dead-beat dad” syndrome, which has taken the world by storm, as one of the greatest negative phenomenons of our lifetimes. Every Human being has the absolute right to have two parents, both mother & father, to be there for them, as long as they live, to give them some sort of positive rearing & direction in this material-existence.

I know my Father:

He was the  man from whom I’ve inherited 23 of my 46 chromosomes.
He was never like a rollin’-stone, in & out of different women’s homes.

Although he died when I was only 8, my time with him was just great.
Alas, Allah decided to take him from me, it was just his destined fate.

It was always known he loved me & I knew that he cared.
He had the heart of a lion, he was so brave, never scared.

I know that he loved and cared for his own kids.
He even fathered children who weren’t even his.

He was A-Class, with great personality & a legendary smile.
No other father in the world could’ve ever imitated his style.

I’m simply in awe, oftentimes, at the mark of a man that he has made.
It’s been so many years after his death, yet his legacy just won’t fade.

If only I were ½ of who my father was.
Striving for that is such a worthy cause.

Gareth Bryant/2012