Forge a wager and weigh your price
She exchanges hearts and diamonds for ice
Neither dalliance nor charm does she wield
Nor softness nor beauty her shield
Of feminine traits only vengeance
Cold ambition without repentance
She fancies herself an ice queen
Eyes like glass and steel, sheen
In her wake many left forlorn
Thus is the nature of a woman scorn
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Funeral pyre
Blackened and harsh is this soil of mine
Where scorched earth and smokey sky entwine
Planted feet germinate black soles
Wells like somber eyes filled with kohl
Once a golden green shire
Now afire, my heart made its pyre
Thursday, October 13, 2011
The Garden
Won't you bring all the flowers you find out in the garden
Don't tell me the truth...that your heart has hardened
But you don't want me anymore
How can it be?
Look what you've done to me
The bee does quickly sting
I was wondering, if you could maybe, darling, think?
I'd give everything if you'd grant my love a pardon
And all the fruits again would fill the garden
But you don't want me anymore
How can it be?
Look what you've done to me
By Mirah
Nothing Much
These days I'm feeling nothing,
Neither joy nor melancholy
A calm numbness has taken over
and it suits me just the same.
I wont fight it, or try to right it
Just let the current drift me out
Whats the use in resisting ...
when the shore is all washed out?
Neither joy nor melancholy
A calm numbness has taken over
and it suits me just the same.
I wont fight it, or try to right it
Just let the current drift me out
Whats the use in resisting ...
when the shore is all washed out?
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Naivete
There aren't enough pretty words that can paint this picture perfect.
What lies underneath comes often to the surface,
Its a decrepit face kept hidden to keep up the facade of youth
Back when I was green and the world was full of hidden jewels
Now I've seen what becomes of those who break the rules
They suffer a punishment so stiff, after which they have nothing to lose
Looted, ruined by thieves playing a handsome ruse
With empty heart and hand, I mourn
My tears could soak the desert green
but they don't have the ability to revive me
They can't make me believe after all I've seen
No one dips their cup in a polluted stream
What lies underneath comes often to the surface,
Its a decrepit face kept hidden to keep up the facade of youth
Back when I was green and the world was full of hidden jewels
Now I've seen what becomes of those who break the rules
They suffer a punishment so stiff, after which they have nothing to lose
Looted, ruined by thieves playing a handsome ruse
With empty heart and hand, I mourn
My tears could soak the desert green
but they don't have the ability to revive me
They can't make me believe after all I've seen
No one dips their cup in a polluted stream
Failure
About this wretchedness I have few words
Few words deep enough, descriptive enough
Not enough to depict this loathsome affliction
Affliction of my dereliction
Dereliction of duty, honour, faith
Few words deep enough, descriptive enough
Not enough to depict this loathsome affliction
Affliction of my dereliction
Dereliction of duty, honour, faith
Saturday, September 17, 2011
The two cures
There is one emotion I hate most, it is grief,
This rotten companion that is not pleased until you cede defeat
The most minute gesture could act as a mercy
but who will extend the courtesy
Maybe one whose found himself in a state similarly
Found himself gouging at his chest
Desperately trying to remove the ache manually
This is madness that brings you to ecstasy, anger, and shock consecutively
Madness of two cures, one to receive what you desire
The other, to relinquish all desires eternally
This rotten companion that is not pleased until you cede defeat
The most minute gesture could act as a mercy
but who will extend the courtesy
Maybe one whose found himself in a state similarly
Found himself gouging at his chest
Desperately trying to remove the ache manually
This is madness that brings you to ecstasy, anger, and shock consecutively
Madness of two cures, one to receive what you desire
The other, to relinquish all desires eternally
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
Their Hands
Fingers tips graze one another
Some lock, while others surrender
Friendly strangers, they seek, play together
At times they interlock and squeeze together
When they feel shy they release
but relief is in being together
Retreat and follow, push and give
Left in right, right and left
Restless they refuse to desist
Launching cerebral fireworks...
that make hearts flutter
joints weaken
and inhibitions torn asunder
A tender saga
Of when lovers reach out for one another
Some lock, while others surrender
Friendly strangers, they seek, play together
At times they interlock and squeeze together
When they feel shy they release
but relief is in being together
Retreat and follow, push and give
Left in right, right and left
Restless they refuse to desist
Launching cerebral fireworks...
that make hearts flutter
joints weaken
and inhibitions torn asunder
A tender saga
Of when lovers reach out for one another
Moving on
Bird's song lured me into a cathedral forest
And I left all behind
Worries and cares, discarded, leave a trail for loved ones to find
Should they seek me, they'll never reach me,
I've found refugee in a sanctuary
Let them let their love letters in bottle,
Changing and moving with the water
The messages pass me by and by
The last one came and went without word
Unopened, yet I know how it read
Goodbye
And I left all behind
Worries and cares, discarded, leave a trail for loved ones to find
Should they seek me, they'll never reach me,
I've found refugee in a sanctuary
Let them let their love letters in bottle,
Changing and moving with the water
The messages pass me by and by
The last one came and went without word
Unopened, yet I know how it read
Goodbye
One for You
Just one day if I could...
If I could wake and find my dreams have woken with me,
my world would be an earthly paradise,
I could be with my beloved in every way I long to be.
Become Queen of every kingdom, hearts of my subjects gifted to me
By day I could sit on the banks of a river replenished by rain
Evenings, lay in a field harvesting gain.
Four seasons pass as time stays the same
Forty thousand years spent captivated in loves game
This game that's got me walking on fences like an ally cat.
Dancing barefoot on a snowy night.
Summer nights sleep abandoned for star gazing
It's bewitched me
Oh how life would be amazing
If my dreams could come with me
If I could wake and find my dreams have woken with me,
my world would be an earthly paradise,
I could be with my beloved in every way I long to be.
Become Queen of every kingdom, hearts of my subjects gifted to me
By day I could sit on the banks of a river replenished by rain
Evenings, lay in a field harvesting gain.
Four seasons pass as time stays the same
Forty thousand years spent captivated in loves game
This game that's got me walking on fences like an ally cat.
Dancing barefoot on a snowy night.
Summer nights sleep abandoned for star gazing
It's bewitched me
Oh how life would be amazing
If my dreams could come with me
Tuesday, June 07, 2011
One Path to Jennah
It is narrated from Abu Huraira, Anas ibn Malik and Abdur Rahman ibn Awf that the Messenger of Allah صلى الله عليه وسلم said, “If a woman prays five times a day, fasts the month of Ramadan, guards her chastity and obeys her husband it would be said to her, ‘Enter Paradise from any door of Paradise that you want’”.
[Reported by Ibn Hibban, Tabarani, Ahmad and Bazzar and authenticated by Sh. Al-Albani]
Wednesday, June 01, 2011
Had I lived in the sky
Had I lived on a cloud, like an island above the world, I would have loved differently.
The treasures of the worldly life indistinguishable at such an altitude, I would have valued differently.
My days and nights spent in solitude drifting across the sky, sailing with birds.
I would have wondered at the true wonders of the world,
The earths climbing peeks, rolling hills, vast plains...
cut up by winding rivers, oceans, and clusters of human life.
Unhindered by earthly life my work became prayer; play, dhikr.
Had I lived above the world, like a traveler in the sky, I would have dreamed differently.
Alien to the accumulation of wealth, surely I would have desired differently.
Id dream of running across the earth like earthly beings dream of flying.
O, Had I lived in the sky.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Dear God,
My condition is apparent to you.
Indeed you see what we conceal and what we reveal.
Forgive me and grant me an eternity in paradise.
An eternity I come nowhere near earning even if I had lived a thousand life times of righteousness.
How could I ever worship you enough, and you are the most glorified?
Have mercy on me and shower me with blessings in this life in the next,
Give me the khair of this life and the next.
Make me among your favoured slaves,
Love me and increase me love for you,
Make me of those who have tawakil in your will,
Those who have taqwa and excel in patience.
Make me of those who are thankful and whose tongues are always wet from dhikr.
Make me a moon among the stars,
Of those who are honoured in the hereafter.
Make my grave comfortable and lofty and give me my good deeds as companionship.
Give me many righteous children who go out in the way of Allah,
And make them a source of sadiqah jariyah.
Make me a weapon of the believers and your sword against the rebellious.
Of those who free the prisoners and reject injustice.
Make me sincere and accept my repentance. Make hell fire harram for me and my family.
Above all, make me die in the state of Islam.
Ameen.
Indeed you see what we conceal and what we reveal.
Forgive me and grant me an eternity in paradise.
An eternity I come nowhere near earning even if I had lived a thousand life times of righteousness.
How could I ever worship you enough, and you are the most glorified?
Have mercy on me and shower me with blessings in this life in the next,
Give me the khair of this life and the next.
Make me among your favoured slaves,
Love me and increase me love for you,
Make me of those who have tawakil in your will,
Those who have taqwa and excel in patience.
Make me of those who are thankful and whose tongues are always wet from dhikr.
Make me a moon among the stars,
Of those who are honoured in the hereafter.
Make my grave comfortable and lofty and give me my good deeds as companionship.
Give me many righteous children who go out in the way of Allah,
And make them a source of sadiqah jariyah.
Make me a weapon of the believers and your sword against the rebellious.
Of those who free the prisoners and reject injustice.
Make me sincere and accept my repentance. Make hell fire harram for me and my family.
Above all, make me die in the state of Islam.
Ameen.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
A Dream Deferred
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
-Langston Hughes
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
-Robert Frost
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
-Robert Frost
Wednesday, May 04, 2011
Writers block induced by Misery
Misery is not in the mood for poetry.
It does not wish to put on the pretense of pretty.
Nor the civility of wisdom.
Misery wants to spread its poison on to all living things for indeed it loves company.
It wants to insult you and berate you.
It wants to seek out your sacred places and desecrate them.
Misery loves that you succumb to despair.
That you relish and revel in it.
...
It does not wish to put on the pretense of pretty.
Nor the civility of wisdom.
Misery wants to spread its poison on to all living things for indeed it loves company.
It wants to insult you and berate you.
It wants to seek out your sacred places and desecrate them.
Misery loves that you succumb to despair.
That you relish and revel in it.
...
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Fun Tag
If I were a month, I’d be April.
If I were a day of the week, I’d be Friday.
If I were a time of day, I’d be Morning.
If I were a planet, I’d be Mars.
If I were an animal, I’d be a Jaguar.
If I were a direction, I’d be Up.
If I were a piece of furniture, I’d be a Bed.
If I were a liquid, I’d be Water.
If I were a gemstone, I’d be a Diamond.
If I were a tree, I’d be a African Olive Tree.
If I were a tool, I’d be a Pliers .
If I were a flower, I’d be Rare.
If I were a kind of weather, I’d be Rain.
If I were a musical instrument, I’d be Silent.
If I were a color, I’d be White.
If I were an emotion, I’d be in Love.
If I were a fruit, I’d be a Pomegranate.
If I were a sound, I’d be Humming.
If I were an element, I’d be Fire.
If I were a car, I’d be Sleek and Black.
If I were a food, I’d be Dark Chocolate.
If I were a place, I’d be Safe.
If I were a material, I’d be Wood.
If I were a taste, I’d be Savory.
If I were a scent, I’d be Coffee and Cinnamon.
If I were an item of clothing, I’d be an Evening Dress.
If I were a body part, I’d be Lips.
If I were a facial expression, I’d be Smirk.
If I were a song, Id be slow.
If I were a pair of shoes, I’d fit.
What would you be?
If I were a day of the week, I’d be Friday.
If I were a time of day, I’d be Morning.
If I were a planet, I’d be Mars.
If I were an animal, I’d be a Jaguar.
If I were a direction, I’d be Up.
If I were a piece of furniture, I’d be a Bed.
If I were a liquid, I’d be Water.
If I were a gemstone, I’d be a Diamond.
If I were a tree, I’d be a African Olive Tree.
If I were a tool, I’d be a Pliers .
If I were a flower, I’d be Rare.
If I were a kind of weather, I’d be Rain.
If I were a musical instrument, I’d be Silent.
If I were a color, I’d be White.
If I were an emotion, I’d be in Love.
If I were a fruit, I’d be a Pomegranate.
If I were a sound, I’d be Humming.
If I were an element, I’d be Fire.
If I were a car, I’d be Sleek and Black.
If I were a food, I’d be Dark Chocolate.
If I were a place, I’d be Safe.
If I were a material, I’d be Wood.
If I were a taste, I’d be Savory.
If I were a scent, I’d be Coffee and Cinnamon.
If I were an item of clothing, I’d be an Evening Dress.
If I were a body part, I’d be Lips.
If I were a facial expression, I’d be Smirk.
If I were a song, Id be slow.
If I were a pair of shoes, I’d fit.
What would you be?
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Obsa Dhabee
Ya jalale khiya,
Garaan obsaa dhabee,
Duba maalin godha, duba maalin taraa?
Yadi khe nat khee'e, garaa na gubee
Imimman facasee
Shimbiro tehee, bararee hin dhufu!
Qadhimaa kha jolumma,
Hirriya kha amma
Ya jalale khiyaa
Garaan obsa dhabee
Duba maalin godha, duba maalin taraa?
- inspired by Abdi Qophee
Garaan obsaa dhabee,
Duba maalin godha, duba maalin taraa?
Yadi khe nat khee'e, garaa na gubee
Imimman facasee
Shimbiro tehee, bararee hin dhufu!
Qadhimaa kha jolumma,
Hirriya kha amma
Ya jalale khiyaa
Garaan obsa dhabee
Duba maalin godha, duba maalin taraa?
- inspired by Abdi Qophee
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Were I a king
Were I a king I could command content ;
Were I obscure, unknown should be my cares;
And were I dead, no thoughts should me torment,
Nor words, nor wrongs, nor loves, nor hopes, nor fears.
A doubtful choice, of three things one to crave,
A kingdom, or a cottage, or a grave.
Were I obscure, unknown should be my cares;
And were I dead, no thoughts should me torment,
Nor words, nor wrongs, nor loves, nor hopes, nor fears.
A doubtful choice, of three things one to crave,
A kingdom, or a cottage, or a grave.
-Edward de Vere
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Eleven Planets in the Last Andalusian Sky
On the last evening
we tear our days down from the trellises
tally the ribs we carry away with us
and the ribs we leave behind.
On the last evening
we bid farewell to nothing,
we've no time to finish,
everything's left as it is,
places change dreams the way they
change casts of characters.
Suddenly we can no longer be lighthearted,
this place is about to play host to nothing.
On the last evening,
we contemplate mountains surrounding the clouds,
invasion and counter-invasion,
the ancient era handing our door keys over to a new age.
Enter, O invaders, come, enter our houses
drink the sweet wine of our Andalusian songs!
We are night at midnight
no horseman galloping toward us
from the safety of that last call to prayer
to deliver the dawn.
Our tea is so hot and green--so drink!
Our pistachios are ripe and fresh--so eat!
The beds are green with new cedarwood
--give in to your drowsiness!
After such a long siege, sleep on the
soft down of our dreams!
Fresh sheets, scents at the door, and many mirrors.
Enter our mirrors so we can vacate the premises completely!
Later we'll look up what was recorded in our history
about yours in faraway lands
Then we'll ask ourselves,
"Was Andalusia
here or there? On Earth
or only in poems?"
By Mahmoud Darwish
we tear our days down from the trellises
tally the ribs we carry away with us
and the ribs we leave behind.
On the last evening
we bid farewell to nothing,
we've no time to finish,
everything's left as it is,
places change dreams the way they
change casts of characters.
Suddenly we can no longer be lighthearted,
this place is about to play host to nothing.
On the last evening,
we contemplate mountains surrounding the clouds,
invasion and counter-invasion,
the ancient era handing our door keys over to a new age.
Enter, O invaders, come, enter our houses
drink the sweet wine of our Andalusian songs!
We are night at midnight
no horseman galloping toward us
from the safety of that last call to prayer
to deliver the dawn.
Our tea is so hot and green--so drink!
Our pistachios are ripe and fresh--so eat!
The beds are green with new cedarwood
--give in to your drowsiness!
After such a long siege, sleep on the
soft down of our dreams!
Fresh sheets, scents at the door, and many mirrors.
Enter our mirrors so we can vacate the premises completely!
Later we'll look up what was recorded in our history
about yours in faraway lands
Then we'll ask ourselves,
"Was Andalusia
here or there? On Earth
or only in poems?"
By Mahmoud Darwish
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Tonight...
Tonight a fire burns in my heart.
A roaring rolling flame.
You see I always find myself in this place time and again.
I know well its pain.
Its a sort of hollow feeling that fills only with shame.
Its a lonely anguish I can't explain.
It hardened my heart and made me strange.
Its made me strange.
A roaring rolling flame.
You see I always find myself in this place time and again.
I know well its pain.
Its a sort of hollow feeling that fills only with shame.
Its a lonely anguish I can't explain.
It hardened my heart and made me strange.
Its made me strange.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Procrastination
I've lost my heart in trivial pursuits
They dance so beautifully I could not refuse
Squandering time I could not afford to lose
Taking the place of noble endeavors
not increasing in any good whatsoever
Falling for the tricks of shaitan, the accursed, the clever
They dance so beautifully I could not refuse
Squandering time I could not afford to lose
Taking the place of noble endeavors
not increasing in any good whatsoever
Falling for the tricks of shaitan, the accursed, the clever
Saturday, March 05, 2011
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
King of Hearts
Roll me up in your arms and tuck me into your breast pocket
Whisper soothing words as the rumble of your voice reverberates through me
The beating of your heart lulling me into deep sleep
Deeply safely in your protection, your right hand possession
Hush my complaints and push away the fitan
Trust that I trust you with self and wealth
Know that I'll shadow you all through your life
A rib of your body
As long as you'll have me you'll find me
Wrapped around your breast
Whisper soothing words as the rumble of your voice reverberates through me
The beating of your heart lulling me into deep sleep
Deeply safely in your protection, your right hand possession
Hush my complaints and push away the fitan
Trust that I trust you with self and wealth
Know that I'll shadow you all through your life
A rib of your body
As long as you'll have me you'll find me
Wrapped around your breast
Monday, February 14, 2011
Martyred
Even when I shut my eyes
Even then I see them shrouded in black.
Strewn upon horse trodden earth, scared by mechanical beasts.
Their hot blood splatters rose patterns across concrete,
Rose gardens blossoming in the streets.
Showered in petals, perfumed in musk, and carried like princes.
Ambassadors from the Kingdom of Heaven baring glad tidings.
Glad tidings of a land beyond the reach of crooked kings
Returning from whence they came
In the pleasure of their Lord,
His reign.
Even then I see them shrouded in black.
Strewn upon horse trodden earth, scared by mechanical beasts.
Their hot blood splatters rose patterns across concrete,
Rose gardens blossoming in the streets.
Showered in petals, perfumed in musk, and carried like princes.
Ambassadors from the Kingdom of Heaven baring glad tidings.
Glad tidings of a land beyond the reach of crooked kings
Returning from whence they came
In the pleasure of their Lord,
His reign.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Baboons
Knocked on one knee like a pleading lover
My appeal, for mercy
But the scent of blood only brings them to a frenzy
Concessions sic the hoards on me
Cut-eye, hunched backed, ghoulish figures descend from trees
Appraising the meal before they feast
Grazing the skin and feeling the meat
Wild carnivorous beasts
Fattened off the flesh of defeat
My appeal, for mercy
But the scent of blood only brings them to a frenzy
Concessions sic the hoards on me
Cut-eye, hunched backed, ghoulish figures descend from trees
Appraising the meal before they feast
Grazing the skin and feeling the meat
Wild carnivorous beasts
Fattened off the flesh of defeat
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Choose
I am not confused
Dilemma between the head and the heart
I know which to choose
In matters of the heart play with the head
Or else she will bruise
When the difficulty concerns the head
Let the heart be your muse
Concerning this affair both have ruled
Now all depends on you
Because I am not confused
Dilemma between the head and the heart
I know which to choose
In matters of the heart play with the head
Or else she will bruise
When the difficulty concerns the head
Let the heart be your muse
Concerning this affair both have ruled
Now all depends on you
Because I am not confused
Monday, January 03, 2011
In Your Shadow
You've turned your back in pride waiting for my plea
No rights have you over me
Why should I be humbled just to appease?
Perhaps you think me wounded importuning for mercy ?
By words you wield like swords as you curse me
I will not respond lest by some vice I am seized
Though the love in my heart grips as an infectious disease
Tormenting me with her desire, refusing to cede
Yielding to her beloved, leaving me ill at ease
Either submit to abuses or force my heart to freeze
What price, for every choice a malignant degree
No rights have you over me
Why should I be humbled just to appease?
Perhaps you think me wounded importuning for mercy ?
By words you wield like swords as you curse me
I will not respond lest by some vice I am seized
Though the love in my heart grips as an infectious disease
Tormenting me with her desire, refusing to cede
Yielding to her beloved, leaving me ill at ease
Either submit to abuses or force my heart to freeze
What price, for every choice a malignant degree
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