12.18.2011

Water Sun


When I turned my face to the closest position I could be to Him, He heaved His love, it traveled at the speed of heaven, and drenched my back like a dam breaking until it drown me.

And now my heart floats. In the sea of incorruptible serenity. Untouchable. This inexplicable happiness spread in the water and increased its reflectivity. The sun envied the light and prayed to attain this gift. Undeserved, unanticipated, gushing waves rush through lush forests and crush trees to bring more, and more, and more. Because He is the source of infinity, so why can't He bless me endlessly, without reason, without warning, and without terms of repayment.

I am free.

Finally.

I am free.

Forever

I always believed I would die young.
Or perhaps I'd hoped for it.
And if I do die young, this post will be quite beautiful.

Maybe she was an angel. Maybe she was a human who had the ability to speak to what is paining you.
I was perfectly numb.
She spake of the world and how it shackles you. And I listened.
And when my heart was hurting, she spake of the world and how it shackles you. And I healed.
And when my soul was confused about the future, she spake again. And I hoped.
And in the oddest moment of slight sadness and overwhelming happiness, she spake. And my soul was flooded.

Above the highest of mountains and in the deepest of waters, my soul spread itself beyond the confines of our tribulations. Wingspan of infinity, at the speed of the darkness before the light could reach it, I breathed in the divinely blessed realm of the 'other.' I belong not to this world, nor do I wish to belong to it. I have found something grander, something irreplaceable, untraceable untameable. Attainable through truth.


All praise is to God.
Lord of the worlds.

12.12.2011

Fire

I cried that night.

After all these years, I have come to realize the full extent to which that protection was intended. Although they believe they have become free, their reality is that they are in fact in the worst form of slavery their kind has ever endured. He meant to protect our kind from not only others, but our own selves. Because apparently, we cannot make the distinction between justice and objectification.

We watch a movie about a geisha. We witness how cruel she is treated. How narrow-minded and marriage-as-a-goal oriented her 'care'takers are. She is treated like an animal, being bred slowly, to the taste of those who came before her, and she is expected to go without a whimper. We watch. Removing ourselves from that historic reality. We think: She was oppressed.

In olde English times, the woman would take the man's last name because she was his property. He owned her. The same way he was able to sell her. Treat her like a pet. A naughty pet. We read and think: She was oppressed.

In our times, women groom their bodies in every way, and wear pieces of cloth that accentuate every curve and hide every (commercially) unwanted bump. Her hair must be glowing and thick. She must apply things to her face, to change her real femininity, into a monster, the modern white-faced geisha, the modern girdle-suffocated female property. At least women of the past knew something was awry. No. Modern women, along with being objectified, are also disillusioned to believe this objectification, with the same historic goal as attracting a suitor [or a one-night-stand], is actually liberation and freedom. Good job humans. You have consistently and without hindrance enslaved women and forced them to value their selves based solely on how they are physically presented.


God desires to not only protect us from these pressures, norms and expectations, but also from our own ignorant daze of believing this is how we must live, from feeling that being 'pretty' under the mainstream standard is what defines our worth.


I don't cover because I am preserving myself for my 'future husband.' Pardon me, but to __ with that. I am a soul in a vessel which will disintegrate into the earth, with the scum, with the dirt. God is the only One Who understands the value of women. He has decreed obligations for our own protection. For our own dignity. We are above the other meaningless values. We are above slavery to other humans, including slavery to ourselves. We are above the impossible standards set for us. The standards which they have numbed our hearts to believe we must reach.


I find it hard to see that humans are capable of justice. We have allowed the minute carnal aspect of our existence to become the main focus of our every momentum.


I see the sickness. I finally see the sickness. And to its full disastrous extents. And yet, I struggle to accept God's remedy.

God guide me, and all women, and men, to value each other as souls. As little breaths of God. Indeed, that is higher than any other honor.

11.25.2011

His

Unmatched perfection
Life-long protection
Heart's fail detection
Highest ascension

11.21.2011

Staged

rejected
unaffected
defected
lamented
demented
fermented
cemented
Contented
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11.16.2011

A Letter to My Fellow Converts [or reverts]

Dearest,

You give me hope.

When my faith in the humanity of humans becomes fleeting, when the world's attempt at degradation of my faith distills ambition from my soul, a reminder of your recognition and acceptance of truth warms my core, lifts my love, and reestablishes my trust in humans to have the cognitive ability to understand the truth. Especially in these times when Islam is attacked and misrepresented by [some] Muslims and non-Muslims alike, you have not allowed the waves of ignorance to overtake you. You surf on the highest waves and with no board.
To me, you are proof that God is above all. He is above the evil which intends on shooting down the most complete, flawless, and beautiful faith.

Thank you for upholding the truth. Thank you for being the bearers of the final message. And thank you for fueling me.

Your reward is with your Lord, inshAllah.

Alhmadulillah

11.13.2011

Drive

He drove her to the emergency room. Figuratively and literally. He thought he could assuage the hurt with words, but they hired her blood pressure. He was oblivious, or in denial. It didnt matter what his state was, because he was unwilling to change. One day he may be forced to face the results of his actions. In numbers.
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11.11.2011

High Love

And when in the lowest of moments, in the darkest of times, in the toughest of fights, and most resistant of forces, God sends His love instantaneously without a moment's delay. The fire of love for Him that fueled me has now cooled and become soothing rain. He heard me cry in protection of His blessed word, and immediately sent me words of kindness, a warm embrace, endless love, and unshakable support. He sees all, including that which I cannot. He knows the depth of my heart, more than I do. He is closer to me than my jugular vein.

I love you oh Allah

Lord of the worlds

Truth: Be told!

What is the thickest shield that blinds people from obvious truths? What is the cause of immense prejudice which divides souls and nations? Why is it that people claim to have open minds, when in reality they are simply searching for proofs of their preconceived notions about an entire people? Does freedom of speech mean freedom to aggress without limits? Why are those very same aggressors the largest hypocrites? Why do aggressors erect the stage and provoke a defensive response which they then misconstrue as an offense? When will my religion be understood? When will the ignoramus learn that he does not know?

We are not here to change anyone. We are here to coexist. We are here to be a source of mercy. That is our purpose. Anything out of that is out of the fold of Islam. If our greeting with every passing is "Peace be upon you"; if smiling is considered an act of charity; if your neighbor, whoever they may be, is so precious that it was as if he had a right to your inheritance; if women are encouraged to maintain their last name after marriage because they are not the property of men; if that an orphan's care is of utmost importance; and that killing one man is like killing all of humanity, then HOW in this ferocious world that we live does ISLAM teach violence? HOW? If we were to base a religion on the actions of its proclaimed followers, Christianity would have been considered a terrorist religion hundreds of years ago. The crusades do not represent Christianity. Not to mention the ancient British colonialists that helped destroy all essence of true Islamic tradition, and the current wars that our VERY OWN presidents declare on the innocent.

I have grown tired, I have grown weary, and I have grown to appreciate the struggle the Prophet Mohammad went through when he was stoned out of Taif by children who were instructed by the adults that they need to attack him. He did not throw one stone back. He left peacefully. And instead of praying that God destroy them, he prayed God guide them.  Which He did. And when the Prophet (peace be upon him) forgave the Meccans when he reentered Mecca and did not fight them.

How has all of this been lost? Where has all the proof of Islam's peace gone?
Nowhere.
It is still there. But for those seeking proof of their wicked misconceptions, they will misunderstand anything and believe in fallacies and misrepresentations as the Islamic teachings.

I end my passionate extrusion with the first word God revealed in the Holy Quran, for it is the only way we can eradicate our minds from deformations of the truth.


"Read." [96:1]

11.03.2011

Strong

This is not a game of chess.
I don't make a move, anticipating yours.
I am in constant motion. I retract my thoughts to not feed the beast. I need air. Surfing along the face of the earth, an inch off the ground, teasing and brushing the bushes and buildings, constantly moving.
I will never stop. I will never revert, digress, to impress a lesser being.
I am steadfast, with your fuel or not.
I will never slowdown.

This is not a game of ping pong.
I don't swing my paddle, anticipating an antithetical swing.
I am constantly dancing. I retract my thoughts to not feed the beast. I need space. Gliding along icy caves in the coldest of storms, scraping scratching scathing solid surfaces to chips melted water, constantly dancing.
I will never stop. I will never revert, digress, to impress a lesser being.
I am steadfast, with your arms or not.
I will never stop dancing.

Response

Dear Regina,


Such deep reflections mashAllah. This really moved me.

I understand your struggle. And you are so positive mashAllah. You are not alone in this Regina, there are others who struggle through this as well. Including myself. 

The fear and reality of desertion by a loved one. But they still love us. They just want to love us and want us in their lives in the way they want it. And they want to make decisions that affect everyone, but only 'benefit' themselves. It's a struggle for them too. I think maybe if we reflect on why they do or did what they have, it may help us with coping, understanding, and coming to peace with it. 

It is difficult. And inshAllah the reward is with Allah. 

You know Regina, I have been struggling through some things as well, and although I still feel at ease and content (alhamdulillah) I still don't mind death. I don't mind leaving this world. I don't mind ending my term, my imprisonment in this life. It is not a pessimistic or surrenderist attitude, but one of facing reality and believing in the hereafter. I am only 23. And i have heard much and seen much, and suffered little alhamdulillah. And if at only 23, this much exposure, how much more will be revealed about this world than what has already been? This thought, this perception of the world, in turn forces me to turn to my ONLY Protector, Sustainer. My one and only Waly. Allah. God. No human can help, no human can be relied on, no human can be trusted, except with that Allah Has Guided and Entrusted them with. I speak to you, my love, about this, because I feel all struggles are parallel in one way or another, and that the true solution is to resolve to dependancy only on the Lord. Which you have done. So strongly mashAllah. I admire that.

Keep up the protons. Keep your hope and faith in God, as you have already. Keep me in your prayers. Keep striving to achieve levels of faith that you see but are not working to reach. 

Believe in His Mercy. His Grace. SubhanAllah wa bihamdih. 

Love you Regina,
Leena

Last Memory

By Regina Abdallah
not leenamielus

theres a sting in my chest
with every thought i have
of the last time i saw you

memories how amazing they can be.
the repugnant feeling i have towards you
melts away as i think back to the last time i saw you

my break in emotion is not because you left me with such a touching
memory that my heart softens at the thought of it
no not at all
its the thought that that was the last memory you left for me
maybe not even that
its the thought of what that means to me
maybe not even that?

this last image i will have of you
this image that is ingrained in my mind
this image that breaks the strength i have worked so hard to build
this image you have left me with

it has created such confusion in me

as i bring my head to the floor and bow down to my Lord asking for mercy
Thanking Him for everything He has given me, blessed me with
while lately it doesn't seem like much I think of all the little
things I am blessed with
and then there it goes
flashing before my mind
I shut my eyes tight
not now, please I am trying to be thankful
DEAARR GODD I am thankful
but this pain. as i realize this is the last memory. i will ever
create with him.
and then i think. Dear God thank you for making it a happy memory.
thank you for creating a calm around it. thank you for helping me
remember every little emotion and detail from it
so that i can be grateful that at least it was a goodbye.
I can remember every ray of confidence i had in the fact i would see him again
I can feel in my heart, sure as can be, that I will see that face again
still.
i can feel every. vivid. image in my mind. watching it like a movie
with emotions attached.
Grateful.
HOW?
WHY?

Guilt.
and then the guilt floods in.
How happy can i be that we left on a good note.
I remember the days when i feared things would end on a bad note
I got what i wanted right?
everything done. finished out happily. not knowing.
so where is this guilt coming from?
while i know i can answer the question
i am grateful i dont have to. out loud.

I will be grateful if I never again have to worry about whether my
last memory of you
will evoke a distasteful sadness or a bright, smiling, carefree, easy goodbye.





11.02.2011

I wish

Sometimes I wish I knew less.

Ignorance is attractive.

If I didn't know what words mean, I wouldn't have to use them.

If I didn't know what numbers mean, I wouldn't have to be fair.

If I didn't know what people mean, I wouldn't have to live with them.

If I didn't know what speaking means, I wouldn't have to struggle over words.

If I didn't know what equality is, I would be able to accept oppression, and peacefully.

If I didn't know what my purpose is, I can live everyday, consuming, without reflection.

If I didn't know what thought is, my mind would be a blank canvas echoing nothingness.

If I didn't know what true love is, I wouldn't have to suffer at it's distance.

If I didn't know what justice is, I would easily be able to not demand it when the world urges me to turn my back.

If I didn't know who God is, I would be free to be enslaved.


Ignorance is not bliss.


God said:
"Read"

10.29.2011

3 | 4 | 3 | 5 || 5 | 4 | 4 | 6 || 3 | 4 | 4 | 4

Fast steady breaths
Heart broken chest
Burned love nest
Never ending test

Cookies they crumble
Weeds they tumble
Words they stumble
Easy remains humble

Face gone numb
Subtracting sum
Leaving may come
Deafening hum

10.26.2011

C

And the globe of curiosity rolls on
In search of its home.
Past the meadows of certainty
And the rivers of confusion.
It rolls into abyss after abyss
Gleefully consuming carboard boxes hollowed cans combusting creatures comemorating
Longing.
It slides onto icy concrete
In search of less false beauty
To find the raw.
Deserting doom and demeaning demons
It heaves hope like rocket launcher throws fire
Without the flames.
The flames have died.

It comes across other spheres
They do not share
Food or thought, or food for thought
They are selfish
Nor do they sooth paths to salvation
Nor do they see. Nor do they see. Nor do they see.
Meaning shifts without warning.
And the rawness was found in the place it was left
In the home of the globe
At the center of its core
It bore clarity.

10.24.2011

Infinite Love

How many people does your heart have the capacity to love?

There is no limit.

In that is a sign of God's infinity. His Oneness. His Mercy.

And its abundance.

An endless supply.

So ask. Ask what you will. And never think twice about His ability or compassion to Grant it.

Love,
Love.

10.21.2011

Blad

Summer heat.

White noise of cooling fans. 

Hot mint tea to wash down the hummus, falafel, and fool breakfast we ate on the floor. 

Unmatched pure perfect pleasure.

10.19.2011

Juice.

Drink it slowly.

When you overload you cannot extract all the possible vitamins. Because there wasn't enough space to accommodate all medics, the abundance flows into one place and waits to leave your body. Feeling rejected, unwanted. The juice's potential remains untapped.

One sip at a time gives each molecule its due attention, and allows your body to extract from it all benefits.

Patience, my dear, in matters easy and severe.

10.17.2011

niche

where is it?

where to look?

where are they?

scattered, battered, tattered, lathered with mold

we are who?

we is what?

question after answer after question

10.16.2011

Coaster

Learned.

To live with it.

The lack of it.

Unlearned.

To die without it.

The lack of it.

Mask

Crumbles at the site. Of its reality.

It speaks too soon. And feet walk together.

Leaving their prints. In sandy forevers.

Small yells return! And big thinks its done.

All due to words. Deafening hum.

10.14.2011

Healthy Heart

Revving at full speed, healed heart heaves itself out of the hearth and hands itself to the heavens.

"Why hello healthy. We have been expecting you."

Heart's happiness hails more fruits than an endless orchard.

At last!

10.11.2011

Resilient

And then it came, without a promise, without a change.

No whispers of direction.

The glass remains translucent. The glass remains. Unmoved, unbroken.

Central muscle continues to sing. It continues. Unstoppable, unbreakable

10.07.2011

September Summer

In an old white dress, with stains marking pain, she stands in the middle of the asphalt, staring ahead, the sun blazing, the horizon shimmering, the light blinding, the heat hissing, the breeze soothing, her brows furrowed, her distraught eyes squinting.

And then the winds rip through her. Twisting her body along its axis. She grasps at the air for stability, but only taps into her own muscle's strength. She surprises herself. She thought she was doomed to crash. She was wrong.

She no longer looks to the end of the road. She slowly kneels to study the pavement she walks upon. Her journey was not about how far she could see, it was about what she can extract on her changing path.

She was no longer shackled to the hope of a change. She was ready for anything.

9.30.2011

Bull

Being critical of anything typical has become 'original.' Although when something multiplies, and becomes a trend, like being cynical, it is no longer rebellious. When rebellion itself becomes mainstream it is no longer rebellion. Not in the political sense, but

I understand the resistance in accepting ideas, styles, or people that are devoid of truth and loaded with bull.

9.28.2011

Flight 3473

On top of the clouds.

Literally.

It's a whole other world up here. Who knows how many worlds there are?

Lord of the worlds.

We ascended to a layer between two layers of clouds. It was breathtaking. The clouds still, silent, submitting to their Lord. I needed more time to absorb when the pilot angled the plane and ascended higher. My first reaction was panic, fear of leaving this discovered heaven. My second reaction was a quick reconsideration. Going to a higher level brings more beauty, even though you can be awestruck by what you see at your level.

God can always create better than what you witness, and He can always grant you something better although you may not understand it.

God's mercy, in blinding us to believe things "can't get any better" relieves us from the overwhelming anticipation and grants us a certain dose of happiness in accepting and loving our current blessings.

Just as the levels of heaven are changing, such are the blessings God bestows on His creation.

Lord of mercy and compassion.

Lord of the worlds.

9.22.11

Disaster Magnet

She comes and disaster ensues, hearts break, and limbs bruise, death wakes, and devils cruise. 


She comes and happiness slowly gains then drains.


She comes and brings with her a toolset with three objects. The objective is inflicting pain. 


One is a feather to tickle his heart.
              The next is a chisel to chip it to parts. 
The last is a hammer, to shatter whats left. 
              She is wreckless, sporadic, selfish, dramatic, stupid, romantic, ugly, not static. She simply breaths panic, wreaks havoc on hearts of beautiful men.

Dance

I don't belong to their world, although they think I do.

I don't belong to their world, although they think I do.

The reality is that I don't belong to this world. My culture is a mosaic, a collection of fragments. I don't belong to one, or none. I belong to all, except some. I define who I am, slowly, and I am not always correct. Sometimes I am the opposite of what I say I am. Sometimes I underestimate myself. But most of the time, I am changing.

We are all beings, moving in this world. Some with purpose, some without. Some with meaning, and some in delusion.

The piano plays the music. We all dance in our own way. Some follow steps of others, some create their own, some are offbeat, and some believe they have the option of not dancing.

I say dance to the beat that creates beauty.

9.13.2011

Observer

Lights infiltrate body, casting no shadows. Gallows of shallow blunders spur ivy. Heavy loss of consciousness undresses useless endeavors of broken brains and dirty stains. Rain remains detained. Shackled in the clouds, yearning crowds who maintain vein shameful persistence. Wash. Watching lurking smirks of distaste. Hasty, clumsy mistakes.




_______________________________________________

Purity

He took her hand. They danced.

A while later, he took a new hand, and danced to a different song.

After some time, a new hand, a new song.

So many hands held his. So many hands he held.

Drifting winds gather much debris from land to land.



_______________________________________________

9.12.2011

Night

I want to sleep on this bench.

I want to please roll around in the dark grass under the sweeping sky

I want to chat with the chirping crickets and the insistent breeze

I want to have a staring contest with the moon

I want to share the air with my green friends

I want to plant my feet into the deep soil

I want to embrace the entirety of this land

I want, above all, to thank my Creator for this earthly heaven

Dear Moon,

I weep at the force of your maddening beauty.

You leave me slowly, until you are entirely gone. But then you slowly return to me, and at your peak, you are the most magnificent creation my soul has witnessed.

You remind me of God's mercy. Even though we may not have the ability to recognize it, it is always there, and proves its existence through every cycle of struggle.

God created you. He created you for more than just serving the purpose of illuminating the dark sky when the true source of light is shedding itself on another world. You were created to tell us humans that God's mercy is endless, certain, and dependable.

I would thank you for being a reminder, but I will thank your and my Creator directly.

All praise is to you Oh God, Lord of the worlds.

9.11.2011

Unity, Come

It is not the breaking of the dawn, nor is it the setting of the sun that marks revolution. It is the collective effort of each soul's decision to change course.

The suffering self yells help! Crevices cut cheeks from bleak concrete, weak and shattered leaves of broken treats.

Suffering is a still surface, sanctified, surreptitious, and simply catastrophic, when allowed to remain undisturbed. Ignored, forgotten, goodness itself packs up and abandons the idle observers.

When you remember God, He will remember you.

Sell your self-pride. Combine smiles to create miles to defile that hostile monster, called suffering. Clasp hands to create bands of lands to reprimand that man who doesn’t care. Because the only thing that can bring happiness is peace, to bring peace you need unity, to bring unity you must recognize your own role in consoling the smoldering eyes of weak helpless cries.

Every motion, disturbing that still surface of suffering, creates ripples, then waves, and then forces evil to cave. New havens and enclaves rise for brave men of mercy and compassion who then save the slaves of ignorance.

We must supplement the sphere of serenity by having
Holy books with wise pages
and 
Monasteries with sweet sages.

We must understand that
Patience comes in staggered stages,
that
Love pays the highest wages
and
Good hearts serve for infinite ages.

Recognize before our demise. Call onto unity and say, "Come! Come unity." 


Video Performance




________________________________________________

9.09.2011

It is!

The world is a funny place.
I am afraid of what I am not.

I am afraid of what I have been, but no longer am.

I am afraid of my first impression of you.

I am afraid of what your existence means.

I am afraid.

I live in fear of what I do not know. I do not know why I fear the unknown, and that makes me afraid.

9.05.2011

Axis

An illusive axis cannot serve a righteous purpose.

You may create an axis about which your world revolves, and it may be another person, your career, your worldly passions. But it is not a real creation, it is an illusion. When your world starts spinning at high speed you reach for that axis, and it disappears.

When you place physical things as at the center of your world, they not only reveal their weightlessness when you really need help, but you also realize you have placed the entirety of your hopes and energy in all the wrong channels. But when you place the invisible at your center, i.e. God, that is the only real thing that remains at any time of hardship or ease-ship. Check your axis before you try to reach for it and it fails you. Check your axis before your world spins out of control, all due to your permission to let it spin around circumstantial axes for too long.

With love,
A Human



_______________________________________________

9.03.2011

buzz

sweet, hot chocolate slithers down my trachea
white, weightless fluff lathers my lip
mysterious, engulfing words hypnotize my eyes
soft, leathery cushions cushion my cushion
warm, fuzzy blanket drapes my walkers
driven, lovely sky juice soothes my drums

perfect serenity

9.01.2011

eyeye

eyes resist seeing
the lids give gravity dibs
and lashes sweep the dirt off the floor
the dirt that the feet dragged in

eyes redeem dignity
by allowing pride to create rigidity
and neglecting yearns

left eye twitches under weight
right eye watches, its wisdom lost and unspoken


8.31.2011

Course, of it

It is not the breaking of the dawn, nor is it the setting of the sun that marks. It is the soul's decision to change course.

8.25.2011

Prepared

God has drenched me in love, sending me heart after heart, with warming words and lifting praise. Maybe to prepare me for the storm that is coming ahead.

8.22.2011

break

and then my heart asks for a poem.

but i have lost the ability to write.

i may have squeezed every last ounce of creativity in me. all my emotions have been spattered on paper, and not a single drop is left to paint with.

so my heart will just have to wait until words are my friend again.

for now, my words and i are taking a break from seeing each other.

8.21.2011

Face of Truth

Rose was far too beautiful to be dragged down into the gallows of faithlessness. God stepped in and removed her from her carnal existence and into reality. This is why we live. We are souls trotting along in temporary vessels.

8.16.2011

Zenith


Heart revs motor like ill seeks donor like drunk wants sober like young wants older. Hold her.

8.14.2011

Strength

She sat by the window. The hollow creases of her face mapping her permanent sorrow. It was a sunny day, in the literal sense. Gloom is everlasting to the one with a life of pain.

She was a lost beauty. Her eyes echoed the stolen art that once radiated from her skin. Hardship is a hard ship to sail on, especially after forty years of despair.

Negative diction always portrays pain accurately. For her, no words can be a mirror to the torture her soul underwent. It was her history, not to be recorded nor relayed. It was her history, witnessed only by God.

They told her she was weak, that her suffering was her choice, and that she could break free at any moment. They understood her inside as defined by their perception of her outside. If she were a book, they judged her by the cover. They knew nothing. If they were slapped in the face with her reality, they would combust. Which is why she hid it. Her oppression was more than enough to handle.

8.07.2011

Wisdom

I met a friend, more like a blessing in human form, at the last convention. She is one of the most brilliant humans to grace this earth, and the extraordinary thing about her is she barely knows it. These are her thoughts on life. Please read with an open mind, and apply her wisdom to wherever it can.


May Allah continue to bless and protect her.


_______________________________________________________


Leena!

in reading your last comment, an array of thoughts rushed through my head. Your words, thoughts, experiences, perspectives, all of it….made sense and I needed it so much. It got me thinking, thinking about me….them…society…humanity.

i honestly think we're getting lost in the depth of the most soul-crushing, spirit draining, capitalist-goal-aspiring bull****-rewarding cultures of all time. and I mean that in the most sincerely hyperbolized, dejectedly disillusioned way i can express myself... With life waiting at the depths of our minds. and much work to be done tomorrow morning. Take my words with a grain of salt. Or a mound of sugar to coat the wounds this slice may open. Take them with a blindfold. I don't care. as long as you take them…

but honestly. I'm sick of chasing ghosts. I'm sick of waking up and pretending that tomorrow's gonna be different because I work harder. Sleep less. Spend more. Eat less. Dress differently. Cop this. Drop that. It's all a game. It's called society. You expend all of your energy outside of you. Outside of self, of spirit, of soul, of mind, and body and original thought and you transfer all of your beautiful energy into the want, desire, ambition, and passion of achieving that-----yes that----that thing waaaay over there. Which you can neither define nor justify. Call it social mobility. Call it a better life for those you love. Call it success. Call it taking advantage of the opportunities they never had. Call it love or loss or eventual self-realization. Call it whatever you will, but ask yourself this: What happens if we never make it there. Fill in the blanks with all of the fruitless things you are pursuing and ask yourself what you can do without.Tomorrow, do without them.

Now ask yourself the things worth pursuing. Like your education, and your community service, and your job, your friendships, your relationships and ask how you can do it in a more fulfilling way. In a way that pleases God and sets your heart (Qalb) at ease. Because I swear it's possible. We just haven't discovered it yet.

I don't mean to write on and on… I don't even mean to form words or sentence. None of that. I only meant to call into question what we daily ignore (and what you helped me realize). That we are spiritual creatures. That our soul needs to eat just as much as our stomachs. That we are deprived. Depraved. We binge instead on the puke of a bulimic society---retching up its most wretched, it's most degenerate, most morally bankrupt, most consciously filthy dogmas to feed us: Africa's starving children. And still we binge, hungrily and hastily, on garbage and waste and pop culture. We feast on false idols. On MTV, and gossip, and whining; choking our senses with the ambitions to amass as much wealth and friends and lovers and attention and accolades as one humanly can without keeling over from the weight of it all. It's then that the spirit sputters. And the body falters. And beauty recedes and withers away into the recesses of our bowels. It's then we realize the decay and decomposition of our most beautiful possessions. That quiet voice that tells you to do something right… or the plans you made with friends who you can't let down by waiting? Yeah... that's your spirit. And it's probably time you listened.

There's a reason they call it soulfood. Prayer. Dua. Worship. Worthship. Reflection. Poetry. Its all soulfood. And we need it badly. We need to gorge on soulfood and feed our starving soul. After all, we're only here long enough to bear witness to our own deeds. To testify against ourselves on the day when no questions need be asked.

Be a friend. Love a child. Feed the homeless. Feed your soul:)



_______________________________________________________

8.02.2011

Low Jab

He asked me if he could photoshop my picture, adding hair on my covered head, just to see what I looked like. He was itching. My reaction was to instruct him to look around at the other women in the room. I explained that my hair type falls under the same category of many of those women's hair.

Selling yourself short, displaying your precious goods, and treating your existence as if you are a piece of meat is quite repetitive, and frankly, I'm bored.

Each of us looks like someone. No one human has a brand new feature in them that cannot be found in anyone else. We all look alike. To cover up and deemphasize the much valued carnal aspect of ourselves forces people to see and draws their attention to the only unique, inimitable, un-reproducible and most valuable part of our existence: our souls.

No pun intended, but don't be shallow when assessing what I truly look like, because the reality of me is walking around unclothed.



_______________________________________________

7.26.2011

Herstory

spilled: 3.7.2011


i find ease in my own words
my own heart telling me i love me
that i will be ok
that i am ok
that i am more than ok
that i am ungrateful

it's a gift God has given to me
one that cannot be described
that one may find guidance from one self, but another version of the self

maybe my past is wiser than my future, for it always knows the right thing to say.

my past comforts me without knowing nor intending.

my past is great. strong. wise.

shouldnt one only grow with time?
maybe im a melting ice cube
taking up more area, but less space
volume
of my voice
is muted
my mind's words are on blast
all i hear are inaudible therapy sessions
my heart is yearning for love
i dont know what kind of love
not love in a man
not love in a friend
i think i need to rediscover my love of God
i need to dig deep
i need to think of all the amazing and incomprehensible things He has done and given to me
i need, above all, to be grateful, faithful, and content






spilled: 3.7.2011
__________________________________________

7.24.2011

Never Use the Same Title Twice

Again, a scribble of thoughts found on a musty old paper, crinkled in a notebook, deep in the hollows of neglected spills.


It reads:

I do not know what opportunities await me.
And of those potentials, I do not know which I would want to pursue.
All in all, I seek brilliance, passion, and happiness.
I can only surrender my will to God.
That is the only way to stay sane.
That is the only truth, accepted or rejected, it stands.




spilled: 2008

_______________________________________________

7.23.2011

Exeunt

And then the vulcano erupted, destroying with it the town of naive hopefuls praying it remained a mountain. But it was only a matter of time. They did not run. They awaited their fate with an open embrace, knowing this was always their destiny.

The molten lova transformed the green fields to a barren desert, creating a blank canvas for a new ecosystem, and wiped away the inhabitants with eyes shielded from the heat's striking bright rays. All for new, with a new sun, and a new horizon.



No longer in cold.


_______________________________________________

7.20.2011

jest

no post to roast what was host most.
no line to define how crime signs fine.
no words to herd lured cured.
no mirror.
no window.
no message.


only existence.



_______________________________________________

7.19.2011

Satin

Created with a satin finish, with nothing else to compare to, I glimmer.

Outside of fantasy I am easily out-shined, and I no longer shimmer.





_______________________________________________

Paradiction

Holy book with blank pages
Monasteries with evil sages
Patience unveils its innate rages
Love confines to solemn cages
Seconds last for infinite ages




_______________________________________________

7.18.2011

Never Use the Same Title

Found in the dusty files, an old piece, spilled at a different time, by a different person. It's bewildering the change in determination we undergo, the will to be extracted from a difficult conundrum, not that a conundrum is ever easy, and how time builds glue, a strong adhesive, where we stick to what we want, what we need, despite its impossibility. My how humans change.


It reads:




water does not stay in one place. it is in constant motion. 
i have taken water as an exemplar and i will not be static. 
i will move. 
on. 
i will move on. 
i have not made any moves to remain in touch with my past, and i will not do that either. 
i am looking ahead. God knows what's in it for me. 
all i know is i will not linger nor try to create fragile fragmented means of communication. 
this ship is no longer docked.


spilled: 4.13.2010




_______________________________________________

7.15.2011

New

Boil comes to a simmer.
Light succumbs to a dimmer.
Paint stripped with thinner.
Celery substitutes dinner.
Loser becomes winner.



_______________________________________________

6.30.2011

Question

Does it bring you to tears?

Does it strike you as truth?

Does it shatter any doubt in the greatest mystery of all?

Does it ground your foundation and make it unshakable?

Does it guide you in moments of extreme weakness?

Does it remove you from this temporal life?

Question this, before you are questioned.

God is greatest.

Stroke

The stroke of my pen is heavy, some days.

The stroke of my hand is sketchy, unsure, unclear, hesitant, redundant, scared, other days.

The stroke of me is changing. Always.

6.29.2011

Forewarning

Death, destruction.
Hard-core corruption.
Cruelty without fear.
Overthrow is near.

6.26.2011

Unknown

Cold shivers creep my shoulders, freezing me in the moment of release. The Unknown has befriended me and dubbed me best. I cannot escape him. I've searched libraries upon libraries to understand him, but he remains veiled, mysterious, infuriating. He gallops along the road to infinity, leaving traces of blurred letters, telling me long stories of nothing.

He cannot tell me. He does not have the right. To irate him, I will chop off this story-long extrusion, I will take the way that leads to his opponent. I cannot withstsand his sand storms along the way. A deafening roar silences him, and he is tamed and forgotten.

6.24.2011

Rye T

This experience has immensely deflated mysteries. No longer are there veils, masks, props, or facades. All has been unsheathed from its cocoon of intimidating power.

I am just like you. I am no less, no more. I am an entity, belonging to no one and every one. You will not define me, because you failed at upholding the definition you created for yourself.

In my own right, I am equal.

6.20.2011

The Greatest

He shoveled a place in my heart, built a home, and settled for life. He knows this. He knows there is no one before or after. He knows there is no one greater in my mind, or in reality. He is the one I have chosen. He will not be replaced by anyone else. It is impossible. No matter what efforts will be taken, there will only be one number one. He is my protector, my guardian. He is always present, no matter where I am.

I love Him, more than anything else. May He continue to protect me from anything that deters me from His path.

6.14.2011

12-12

And then Happiness rains like the ocean rose and tipped itself over. Nothing can compare with that freedom. The cover of a book tells you how many smiles you will encounter. The content brings serenity.

Truth consoles and blasphemy is fatal. Loving love is lovely for lovers. I stand as one who's arms are open, awaiting the embrace of eternity.

take me

to my dashboard
where your kingdom has left the fog

6.11.2011

fanta see

break my back
now a heart attack

take your flack
now a heart cracks

i retract
u talk smack

this aint true
you aint real
try to create
fantasy from steel

5.17.2011

Crystal Ball

There is no way to tell what will come next. Butterflies filling skies, dreaded light knocking lies, ties to love and endless highs, depths of grief and chilling eyes.

Be it any case, God is above all.

Lost&Found

You missed out, because you showed up a day late and a dollar short.

You waited longer than the Palestinians have anticipated victory, and with none of their bravery.

You let the fire turn to smoke, poking devil's shoulder to evoke loss of wellness.

You have lost, because you have not found.

Since when was truth supposed to announce itself like an arrogant fool? Dueling with evil to expel hopes. Coping with the reality of your absence. Fences of concrete create discrete differentiations between right and wrong, short and long, speech and song. Along these lines she dances the thin signs shining bright beneath tight feet. She infers more than what is implied and believes lies as love dies and skies cry.

Why?

Because she was looking in the wrong place. Faced with the heavy weight of vacancy, she couldn't see that she was lost, because she did not find.

5.11.2011

Failure

I stare at my inbox.

I anticipate his response like a victim awaits the verdict of the judge. The Plaintiff is Accident.

When will he read my message? What will his response be. Will he destroy my heart once again? Mince the powder, which was once my heart, into nothingness?

How much worse can he make it?

Why all the drama?

Calm down, if the grade loves you, it will reflect in your GPA.

3.16.2011

Expectations

I had to pull the plug.

I apologize.

You were unresponsive. I thought I pressed all the right buttons. Apparently, you refuse to react when you choose not to.

I wanted to share the images of my memories. I wanted to send you my thoughts so you can imprint them with your mind. I needed you to scan my ideas with your brilliance.

I needed you.

And you didn't need me. You resorted to a different source of power. Man-made power, superficial.

I guess I asked too much of my HP Photosmart all-in-one.

3.07.2011

stowaway

new page. new day. new milestone.

a whole new me.

3 am, only one awake, darkness, laying in bed, feeding source of light my mind's attempts at reconciliation

i am in love with now. i am excited for the future. i am proud of my past.

my mother told me you must believe you are happy to find happiness, no matter what your condition.

love has been put on hold. layaway?

stowaway.

reconsider

i will find freedom in isolation
isolation from mankind
and solitude in my grave
returning to my Lord
because this life is worthless
without that goal in mind
because days are meaningless
without worshiping him five times
and if you want to consider yourself a spiritual person
and one who has reached peaks and peaks of spirituality
yet you have not established your prayer
i beg that you reconsider who you are
for you have not reached the reachable zenith
you have created the illusion that you have
you stand on the mountain, holding up a mirror to the zenith
and lying to your being
that you have attained the ultimate spiritual state
when your condition
is in the making

1.31.2011

Vapor to Solid

With outrage, she said, "May the body of the man
                                 who uses his hand
                     to strike a woman
                                 be paralyzed.

                 May the weaklings be broken
                                 by women outspoken
                     by other men of token
                                 and ostracized.
        
                May their blood be fuel
                                 to continue the duel
                     to feed them gruel
                                 and no compromise.

               May mercy overlook them
                                 and vengence overtake them
                      by waves of violence
                                 that brought their insolence."

When she stopped boiling, and only simmered, she said,

              "He will never have power
                                 only power to cower
                        through a deadly shower
                                 and false confidence.

                He may strike and break
                                 and give then take
                       but his honor's at stake
                                 replaced with pestilence."

When she fully cooled, she said,
                "May God guide him
                                forgive him
                       and let him see the truth before him
                                 that a woman must be honored."


When her love settled in, she said,
              
                        "I wish he never left."


                   

1.15.2011

1.10.2011

:P

Please, don't use the peace sign as a fashion accessory.

Beauty

You can stare at something long enough and it will become beautiful.

Because beauty is familiarity.

You are familiar with the focused photos of the models in Vogue. Photography's content celebrates physicality, and therefore forces associations of subjects with real life. When you attend a party, you tap into your memory, flashbacks of images of models, of beauty defined by others, and they transition into the standard, the criteria, the control, and are used to judge friends.

Big lips. Big hips.

Small nose. Small toes.

And the list goes on. It's all irrelevant in not the grander, but another scheme. But to our minds, all synchronized by categorized airbrushed images, it is pure relevance.

Stare at an artistic image of a shattered vase. To see a shattered vase of that same physique in real life would excite you. And you might pay money to buy the otherwise piece of trash.

Same with faces. Bodies. So let's not all mold our opinions into one, because when everyone agrees on one opinion, that opinion becomes unrightfully perceived as fact,  and all those not falling under those standards fall suffering into another warp of logic.

We are all beautiful. Physically.

1.07.2011

Won Year

She was on the brink of ultimate corruption. In a swift moment of weakness, in the blink of a heartbeat, she would be destroyed. She inched closer to her end without looking at the target. Her neck twisted with anger, her eyes searching for her unspoken salvation.

She was faced with a dilemma unknown to her library of experience. With unprecedence comes confusion. And with that confusion, she would have made a decision that would have filthified the purest of waters continents away. She would have expunged her soul from the confines of serenity, and delved deep into boiling muck of scum.

She was simultaneously presented with a gift box, the contents of which were unknown, but which was legitimate no matter what the results. She wasn't torn. She was nudged from one direction to another. That cliff all of a sudden grew matter and stretched out to create an infinite plane impossible to drop from. But the thoughts of suicide reemerged and she headed toward the cliff, and the plane disintegrated, moaning in disappointment and pity. She continued to hope for His lead.


Would He send it? Well of course.

The sound of a reason was more like a thunderous bolt of lightning smacking any last thread doubting goodness and edging on to disaster. The sound unveiled truth from its brethren, growth from failure, and chance from certain doom.

She listened. How dare she not. She chose to be chosen.
She freed herself from shackled immunity to truth.

He let her go. He let her see. Gratitude is all she can give.