Thursday, August 28, 2008

Knocking On Her Door ... By Jafar Alam

Feeling lost ... 
Confused ... 
Irritable ... 
At a cross roads

Helpless and misunderstood 
Frustration seeping through
This scarred soul

By the misleading images shown to me

Screaming from the inside

Spoken word
Words not heard ...
And is it absurd
That these days
Sunshine and breezes  
Reflecting and smiling ...
These things make me happy ???

Paradoxal ...

Trying to find pleasure ...

Some sort of attachment to any good that's left in this place
While trying to detach myself from it

And I don't think I'm the only one that makes that resolution
To escape this delusion
A victim of the worlds illusion

And I made a promise to myself
That I would never do what I did
If all He did
Was give me another chance ...

And I lied to myself
As I came back for another dance ...

And now ...

Now I stand here
A victim of my own oppression 

And I'm pressin' hard
Tryina break though
Set free 

But as much as I try
I'm left here empty inside
Alone with my thoughts

And all I think of 
Is her

Her smile
Her depth
Her touch 
Her warmth
The smell of her breeze that brushes my face
When she walks by
Those eyes,
O those beautiful eyes 
Smile at me even in my dreams

And I wish 
For even a moment 
To be transported back to that day 
That place 
That very moment that had made the boy wanna be a man 

Where time had ceased 
And my heart had opened

And I walked through that door 
To knock on hers

And as she opened that door
She smiled 

And let this stranger in
A visit so brief
But so sweet

I promise to come back with a love much deeper

And as I look at her 
In full blown beauty
My heart and words exhaling out everything that I take in from her
Everything I see
Everything I feel
I inhale all of her back into me
Until we meet again

I'll hold my breath
Until I come knocking on her door again (c)

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

What I Will ... By Suheir Hammad

I will not dance 
To your war drum 

I will not lend my soul 
Nor my bones 
To your war drum 

I will not dance to your beating 

I know that beat
It is lifeless 

I know intimately 
That skin you are hitting  

It was alive once

I will not dance to your drummed up war 

I will not 
For you 

will not hate for you 
Or even hate you 

I will not kill for you 

I will not die for you 

I will not mourn the dead 
With murder nor suicide 

I will not side with you 
Nor dance to bombs
Because everyone else is dancing 

Everyone can be wrong 

Life is a right 
Not collateral 
Or casual 

will not forget where I come from 

will craft my own drum 
Gather my beloved near 
And our chanting will be dancing 

Our humming will be drumming 
will not be played 
will not lend my name
Nor my rhythm to your beat 

I will dance
And resist 
And dance 
And persist 
And dance

This heartbeat is louder than death

Your war drum ain't louder than this breath

4:02 PM ... By Suheir Hammad

Poem supposed to be about one minute 
And the lives of three women in it
Writing it 

And up the block a woman killed
By her husband

Poem now about one minute
And the lives of four women
In it

Haitian mother
She walks through town 

Carrying her son's head
Banging it against her thigh 
Calling out creole 
Come see
See what they've done to my flesh
Holds on to him grip tight
Through hair wool
His head 

All that's left of her

In Tunisia
She folds pay up into stocking
Washes his european semen
Off her head 

Hands her heart to God
And this month's rent to mother
Sings berber 

The gold haired one favored me 
Rode and ripped my flesh 
I now have food to eat

Brooklyn lover

Streets ragged under sneakers
She carries her heart
Banged up against

Ghetto look 
Look what's been done with my flesh 
My trust
Somebody tell me
Something good


Thursday, August 14, 2008

Imam Hassan ...

I wonder those who think about their body's food ...
But do not think about their soul's food ...

They keep away disturbing food from their belly ...
But fill up their heart with destructive subjects ...

The vision must be followed by the venture ...
It is not enough to stare up the steps ...
We must step up the stairs ...

Ihya Uloom Id Din ...

The Prophet (PBUH) said:

You are living in an age wherein the theologians are many ... 
The Quran-readers and preachers are few ... 
The beggars are few ...
And the givers are many ... 
Where in deeds are better than knowledge ... 

But soon there will come over you such an age ...

Wherein the theologians will be few ...
The preachers and the Quran- readers many ... 
The givers few ... 
And the beggars many ... 
Where in knowledge will be better than deeds ...

There is no energy crisis ...
Only a crisis of ignorance ...

See how 
Grows in silence ...

The stars 
The moon 
And the sun 
How they move in silence ...

We need silence to be able to touch souls ...

The Prophet (PBUH) On Shaa'ban ...

Sha'baan is my month ... 
Rajab is Allah's month ... 
And Ramadan is the month of my Community ... 
Sha'baan is the expiator ... 
While Ramadan is the purifier ...

Sha'baan is a month between Rajab and Ramadan ... 
People tend to neglect it ... 
But that is when the deeds of His servants ascend to the Lord of All the Worlds ... 
So I would rather mine rose up while I was fasting ...

Saturday, August 2, 2008

Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) ...

When Allah wishes well for someone ...
He grants them understanding of the deen ...