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.
dear brothers and sisters in humanity
what is it that you feel when you see me?
is it shame, disgust, fear or sympathy?
because i need none of it, i just need you to hear me
i am freer than you can imagine
in my heart soul and mind
free from the oppression of the material,
free from all the negativity
free to learn and think and do
because of a direct link to the divine
dear brothers and sisters in humanity
you can have this freedom too
but of course you would not want it
if you think freedom is what government gives you
truth is, only God’s laws have real value
man made laws are only used to confine
to intrude in your personal affairs
to keep you locked inside your mind
so free yourself from the veil that was placed across your heart
the veil on your ears an eyes
open your heart to His infinite Mercy
let go of all the lies
if man can be God’s son, then man can take away your rights
but when God is worshiped without partner
there is no one to take it from you in sight
So my dear brothers and sisters
do not pity my position
obeying God’s command to cover
is not a man made tradition
virgin Mary is never portrayed half naked
nuns choose to live from head to toe in submission
orthodox Jews have rules for covering
have any of you noticed a pattern?
it is man that tells woman to uncover
to put her beauty on display
it is man that makes up heinous lies
to profit off of what God made
it is man that oppresses us to act like its just cool
to pull a one night stand, never call again, to use you as his sex tool
to pretend that feelings don’t exist
when men and women interact
to pretend that it is possible to be casual and laid back
no woman has ever benefited from such insincere behavior
but men are satisfied on their end because they still get to see her
to free myself from this social man made trap,
i submit myself to God
Who Commands believing men to lower their gaze
and for believing women to wear loose garb
so we work together to preserve our society,
to protect each other from social harm
because we testify that Mohammad is the final messenger to mankind
and nothing is worthy of worship except Allah
Annam Choudhry, who goes by the pen-name moniker of “Bobby Allen Poe” or also just “Bobby”, has written a delightful Islamic spin on the classic Edgar Allen Poe story, “The Raven”…enjoy.
Enjoyments in this world are plenty Distractions, simply, some unhealthy
But when death comes knocking at your door
Suddenly comes knocking, knocking at your chamber door Regret there will be, nothing more.
But your grave is not the end of this story Life was not about success and glory
If you prepared well for life after death
Fearing God and His judgment in your life after death In paradise you’ll be, forever more
So place your forehead on the ground Shopping, vacations, will still be around Just humble yourself before your Lord
He is Oft-Forgiving, Merciful, the Ever-Living Lord Repentance is key… but there is more
So what then is the purpose of life
If your job, family, and friends will not suffice? Worship with your heart, tongue, and limbs Sincere worship with your heart tongue and limbs
But Kufr and Shirk, never more!
There is but One God, no son or mother hath He Sir or madam, truly, think about it logically What use is an heir to the One Who does not die
The Ever-Living, Self-Sustaining Who does not die?
God does not procreate. Need I say more?
Mary’s was a virgin birth, no doubt
A pious maiden chosen for a task to carry out To give birth to the one who has no father
A revered prophet among men, born without a father God says “Be” and it is. Need I say more?
Peace on Jesus the day he was born, the day he dies, then raised alive Peace on him, Moses, Abraham, Jonah, John, Isaac, Jacob and Ismail Peace on Muhammad, last in line, with the message for all of mankind
The seal of the prophets, sent to preach, the message of One God to mankind Complete is your religion… forever more.
I’ve known this guy, since like forever…which is too-long (just-kiddin’)…HA HA HA. Anyway…what’s the best way for me to describe him? Let’s see: great Muslim bro., great literary-artist, great person to seek advice from & to vibe wit…yeah…that’s enough, for now. He has graciously-agreed to share some of his poetic ambiance onto my blogsite, which is really cool, mainly because I actually got into writing poetry again, as a result of watching him perform @the annual ICNA (Islamic Circle of North America) Convention, in 2007. When I was a lot younger, I had tried poetry, but, sucked at it, so I abandoned it. Then, years later, when I saw Ammar performing, I said to myself, “Ahhh…if he could do it, then, I can do it!!!”. When we were a lil’ younger, we would always compete against one another, but, always in a positive-way. So, when I saw him performing, I saw that he had an edge, and I couldn’t let him get away wit dat…so, upon that, I had started writing once again. However, this time, Allah placed upon me the ability to become a true literary-master & on a Human-level, Ammar AlShukry played a major-role in me exploring that.
Here’s some of his awesome poetics that he’s decided to share with us:
I met Ahmed, he was a dejected fellow,
I asked him why he was looking so mellow,
He told me, when I converted to Islam,
I was told that I was joining the brotherhood of man,
At the masjid I got hugs, felt so happy and serene,
It was the most beautiful gathering I’d ever seen,
For months they took me in, like a baby they would wean,
Then someone told me that marriage was half of my deen,
So off I went! Simple enough, when all the brothers loved me,
I felt my heart was one with my brothers, tied by the God above me,
I shyly walked up to the imam sat down and eloquently stated,
That I was doing well for myself, unattached and educated,
And ever since I accepted Islam I’ve gone through a lot,
Quite frankly this community here is now all the family I’ve got,
So I would appreciate his assistance in seeking out a better half,
Someone I could share a journey with, as well as a tear and a laugh,
His response was less warm than I had imagined in my mind,
Like he was burdened with locating someone impossible to find,
He said, “Brother Ahmed, I just want to alert you,
That this might take a while, so be easy, patience is a virtue”
I asked “How long ago was this?” Ahmed laughed and said, “BRO”
the conversation that I had with the imam was three years ago!”
I sat down next to him, wearing a painful grimace,
saying “so what was your experience, from start to finish!”
Ahmed leaned his head against the wall, to silently recollect,
And then looked at me and said, “This ummah isn’t what you expect.
Side by side and feet to feet, we may gather at a plate to eat,
but all of that will just retreat, when his daughter is why you meet,
So after meeting more than my share of parents insanely selective,
I have my own breakdown of the Ummah from a converts perspective,”
I interrupted “Hold on Ahmed” the story bringing me to focus,
“I’ll shout out the country, and you tell me your diagnosis”
“Sudan!” He said, “Yall Sudanese have it rough..
“I thought we were all black but her father said I wasn’t arab enough “
I LOLed at his jab, and then went to the next country,
“Palestine” he laughed and said, “Maybe if you have 20K for a dowry”
“What about the people of the Nile?” He said, “You wont believe it,
They asked me if I was willing to buy an apartment out in Egypt..
I approached a Pakistani family, and they were really nice,
They said, not a chance..but we hope that you make it to paradise,
There was a Somali family and they didn’t hesitate to say no,
But said if only you were a WHITE convert, you would have been a go,
There was an Indian father who I still just wanna smack,
He said, “You are Muslim now, how do I know you will never go back?”
Like any of us really know, aren’t we all quite possibly,
liable to be misguided or astray by deviance or apostasy,
Its just frustrating when you hear that, like theyre trying to say,
That Islam for them is more ingrained in their hearts, blood or DNA
When I am the one who faced my family and cultures antagonism,
To jump into an Ummah made prison, not at all what I envisioned,
His head, still resting against the wall tilted towards the sky,
“I haven’t given up on the Ummah, I just sit and wonder why?
Why is it that we can convert from our entire religion,
But all of these born muslims cant convert from tradition”
I wonder if my angels hate me,
for being anchored by my sides,
surrounding a body where truth barely resides,
More sins, more lies,
Evil tongue and wicked eyes-
More observers than spies,
Do they wish for my demise,
Neither earth nor skies,
Nor angel ever cries,
when a soul’s oppressor dies