I’m constantly lambasted by hardship…
…as adversity strikes just like a whip…
…I’m completely lost in the Forests of trials & uncertainty…
…as the Wolves of deception just hunt after me tirelessly…
…I’m surrounded by Dessert, as my barren hopes & dreams, carried away from my reach, by the Winds of Providence…
…I came to know that all that I had yearned for, all that I wished for, were play and leisure, utter illusion and nonsense…
…As I look in search of that invisible Log-Cabin, to seek shelter in, during a violent Thunderstorm…
…Only then, had I realized the shield from torrential downpours were already, within me, all along…
…My inner-being, the core of my meaning…
…keeps me safe, from yelling & screaming…
…I know not which test of mine may really break me…
…or, whether or not Allah will choose to set me free…
However, I do know that, regardless of the harshest weather…
…my Lord won’t forget nor desert me, I’m completely secure…
…It’s hard to smile, when Life knocks all of ya teeth out…
…you feel you’re in the 12th-round & can’t win the bout…
…Yet, an important verbal signal, straight from the Soul & Mind…
…tells me what the Body can’t detect and the Heart can’t define…
…The messages says “Just don’t quit!!!”…”Fight on!!!”…
…the battle belongs to the Patient, as well as the Strong.
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 Cyrus McGoldrick. Next month, it could very well be anyone of you. So, just be prepared, with some fresh-rhymes.
Topic: Yearning for something More
The Warmth We yearn from one another:
When the blistering Winter descends…
…We can no longer afford to pretend.
We get cold so quickly, it really hurts…
…We pursue warmth which takes work.
We all want the heat of Love, to warm our heart…
…Each of us wants a companion who’ll never part.
But, Life is sometimes a cruel Snow-Storm, covering all in its path, with the crispest & iciest harshness…
…However, we must make a Summer out of every Winter, protecting our hearts from a freezing-tempest.
We mustn’t succumb to the hypothermia of Loneliness…
…We all need someone to keep us from cold distress.
Being close, to the one who you love, is one of the greatest feelings of all…
…So, think about the one who keeps you warm during the heavy Snow-Fall.
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 Humza Oza. Next month, it could very well be anyone of you. So, just be prepared, with some fresh-rhymes.
I’m not the Man You think You see:
When no one’s around, no one to hear the ways my inside voice sounds…
…There I am, in the dark, far apart from others, with only me & my wounds.
These scars of my heart that bleed not red blood, but, crimson emotion…
…I often think of my past hopes ruined, as if shrapnel from an explosion.
The complexities of my self-made travesties tend to keep me up all-night…
…Regretting what I didn’t do or should’ve done, only intensifies my plight.
From the surface, you out there are only exposed to the glamour & glare…
…But, when I’m alone, what I see in front of me, in the mirror, I can’t bear.
I notice the ugliness of what I work so hard to keep hidden from public-view…
The radiance of my face is make-up, that I just use, to hide the real me from you.
My true self is nothing how I portray it to be; there’s so much I’m not happy with…
…Sometimes, it feels like everyone’s just against me, even loved-ones and kith.
But, then again, no one who’s around really wants to see the real you…
…It reminds them of the skeletons in their closets that make them blue.
It’s an uncomfortable reminder of how fake they are…
…They have distanced themselves, from truth, so far.
People often despise in others what they really see within themselves…
…Then they deny truth, which is embedded in the heart, where it dwells.
But, that’s the way the reality of the World works…
…Integrity, honesty, sincerity don’t have any perks.
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 Neghena Hamidi. Next month, it could very well be anyone of you. So, just be prepared, with some fresh-rhymes.
“Beware what You allow Yourself to succumb to”
I pretend that Temptation doesn’t affect me here…
…Reality always sets-in whenever she comes near.
…Then, I’m a mess: I’m like a pool of putty when I realize I’m not in control…
…How can she have me round her finger, while she’s so young & I’m so old?
I never expected that I’d be entranced, by something so obvious…
…Yet, that’s the nature of Man: we’re victims to clear distractions.
All that I wanted was to have her in my arms,my hands in her hair…
…She smelled of fragrances of flowers, blowing in the Summer air.
I totally yearned for her young, delicate, tender, fresh, flesh…
…She was more enjoyable than mid-day High School recess.
Little did I even realize that I had fooled myself, into thinking that I was strong enough…
…I was just bent on having her in my arms, I had no care of consequence, gettin’ caught.
But, then, she got pregnant: she told me at 4-months that she’s gonna keep it…
…There was nothing for me to say, except the pathetic cry of, “God, damn it!!!”
I didn’t want a bastard-child, but, I never wanted to marry her…
…My world was turned upside-down, as if life were an utter blur.
Verily, the fool was I, to even have the nerve to assume that Allah wouldn’t hold me to task…
…When Temptation grabs you, you’ve got to break loose & get away, or else no turning back.
This isn’t anyone’s fault: I had purposely made myself too blind to see…
…I, alone, am to blame, for not being the best Muslim, I know I can be.
This why we ought to listen to Allah, at once, the very 1st-time…
…Just as that ol’-sayin’ goes, “A hard Head makes a soft Behind.”.
We never think of the price we must pay, for our sinful enjoyment and play…
…We always make ourselves ignore that Accountability will have its own day.
We must safeguard all things that we hold dear…
…Integrity, shame, conscience, a heart that’s clear.
So, the lesson here is to learn from my most obvious error…
…Stop indulging in things which only promote sinful-pleasure.
Only then, can you ever hope to survive in this savage desire-riddled existence…
…We have to constantly depend upon Allah & thereafter, make true Repentance.
Then, we must always try to stay away, from the blissful trinkets of the Mundane, which makes us go stray…
…Because, before we know it, we’ll all be forced to stand before our Lord, to show cause, on Judgement-Day.
He loved his desires just like a fat boy loves cake
The only difference is cake doesn’t leave him baked
In a corner
At his friends house waiting to I escape
From his so called problems in the world with one blunt to eradicate
what he deemed as complicated
One puff cleaned that slate
but he goes home and begins to contemplate
The life style he adopted
due to the battle with his Nafs
Jihad al Akbar but truly he has loss
Time to retain himself
From the things he should have refrained
After all he’s a hafez. And he never thinks in vain
Smoking occasionally. Flirting frequently. What’s the problem though this doesn’t make him insane
But “verily the Nafs incites evil”(12:53)
Just like how Zulaykha caused a chaotic upheaval
With Yusuf in prison
because winning the battle with his Nafs was considered treason
We all become good again
Because in the end, the heavens are where we want to descend
he looks at his mistakes thinking about how we will answer for in the end
Blunts. Drinks and girls.
Ain’t worth his time when it comes to making amends
With his Nafs. His conscious. His soul.
he can’t risk having his temptations act like burning coal
Placed on his heart
Creating this empty space reserved for evil. A huge hole.
Tempted. He let that Marlboro sit on his desk unlit
Realizing, spiritually that temptation leads to a life unfit
For him to lead given his time and space
After all people look up to him, he doesn’t want to lose face.
Wait lose face? In front of people? Because he’s the hafez of Quran. Man. Check your intentions because with that mentality you got it all wrong,
Lit those cigarettes if that is your main concern.
let those blunts burn and burn.
but worry about the opinion of your creator. That’s one thing you must learn.
tempted to break your habits for society? If that’s what you yearn
By all means stop the bad things in your life due to that main concern.
But adapting to good because of people will surely lit a fire in track of evil.
Because you can adapt to bad so easily
The pattern is infinite. It Will go on endlessly.
People change. So will you.
In the end you are left to choose
The path of good? Or the path that’s disapproved?
So tempted to follow their league
Even though it’s against your core beliefs
Fluctuating in what’s pure and what’s obscene
Believe me it’s common
all you need is some guidance
but one request before you take actions even further
Recheck your intentions and make sure it’s for the Preserver
There are types that irk me
Those who like to see me quiet preferably with a burqa below my knees
Those who get upset when challenged
And believe I can’t manage
Judging with the eyes
And the ears
Who are oblivious to the faint tears
Brother and sister?
More like a victim and an accuser
Behind a screen acting like you are the chooser
Of right and wrong
More like the abuser
What happened to addressing the sin of one another In private
But in fact lets not care. your kind would rather blast it?
Is this what you follow?
Because I’m telling you that’s pretty shallow
One must know that to you I’m a dark shadow
You see my movements
But not my size
Or what was god sent
So have that image of me in your head
It’s demented. And that’s what everyone said
But we make up things
And distort the pictures
And go on listening to a thousand lectures
Which in fact are useless if you don’t see the other side of the sector
So pointless are your comments but the damage is done
I’m not taking this seriously.
I’m really not.
In general this is something that is never fought.
Because we let these double standards address ourselves
And let it go because there is no talk between anyone else
I thought it was a bond when you come in defense
I guess I was wrong because clearly I’m the one with no common sense
I hate this double standard
And judgement on the side
Because near it I see hypocrisy that lies
In the hearts of the so called believers
Who possess stubbornness and act like they are deeners
I don’t know what you follow because that’s not what’s taught
Address me in the matter that the Prophet sought
I’m not a random person
That’s the opposite of what I’m endorsing
I’m your sister in a deen
So that relationship is given
So don’t think your rude comments are allowed because of a division
Because that is the exact opposite of what should be practiced in the roots of my religion
Neghena Hamidi, a young, new, literary-artist, has graced my blogpage, with a very endearing poem, about the ill-effects of a pathological homelife-experience. The piece itself is very captivating, describing, in detail, how someone may, and sadly, often, ends up, as a result of negativity in their lives, from home.
I walked past both of you upon being beckoned
My parents said to me “Don’t think this life is worthy for a split second”
Careless I was,
Walking to my room
Disrespecting my parents?
I just walked into my own doom
I did not know would happen that night
A dream that would leave be shattered
Unprepared to really fight
Lying in my bed
Forgetting about the prayers my dad just led
I closed my eyes and drifted away
In a habitat
Where was I
What just begun
I heard cries all over just being sung
It was dark
I couldn’t see
Is what I’m imagining make believe?
I moved my left hand
What is this box i am in?
is it the box that He chose?
Knock and I banged. No one heard me
I can’t really see
Someone please answer
Hear my plea
Because I feel as though my heart is beginning to bleed
The ceiling began to slide
I caught a glimpse of my mama,
Crying on my side
White dress on my body
On this box i lied
I saw four people hovering on my home tugging on my scarf
“Wake up. You did not die, Her life was about to start”
Who was that?
Wait I’m dead?
That was my mother..
The one I never listened to when we uttered words to one another
“My baby sister, shes gone”
I think that was my brother
Never really bothered knowing you because I always snuck out undercover
“Guys…I’m not dead. Hear me. I’m dying inside”
Ha! Cracked a paradox
While I’m unwillingly trapped in this box
Don’t bury me six feet down the ground where the worms will have my fun with their feast
On the eyes that never bothered to see life’s true peak
The ears that never listened to her own just merely speak
The mouth that was blabbering when her enemies were so weak
That forehead that never gracefully leveled down to the atmosphere of my feet
The hands that was useless when I heard someone beg
And the feet that never ran to mosque when I heard Quran being read
Not now. I need to change
I know its a bit too late
Like a thread this life was cut short
I feel so estranged
Water on my face?
Those were the tears of my father
Thought you would be tough
Please don’t leave your daughter
Someone pull me up
This must be a dream
Caused by bad habits?
And a hint of really bad fatigue?
I assure you I was sober
Just pull me up
My life just has been shattered by a bulldozer
My face was just covered
There goes my family
And the new roof of my sanctuary
My box is lifted despite my plea
Down I go with regrets and lack of the deen.