They cant see me
That is why they stare and tear
With hungry piercing eyes trying
To expose my flesh-clad body bare.
They cant hear me
That is why they want me to sing
Sweet nothings to their duniya-deafened ears
To be a caged play-thing, whose plea-sonnets so clear
Fall upon the unlistening muddled hearts
Of an endless line of sadist slave-kings.
They cant understand me
That is why their mouths SCREAM
Created witless rhetoric, at the gentle truths
That burst uncreated, unbeckoned, from the roots
Of my very spiritís primordial seams.
They cant own me
That is why their hardened hands grab
Trying to add and affix a moment of my soft skin color
Atop their empty burgling black souls made duller
By their painted purpose, destitute and drab.
He can see me, hear me, understand me
He is He who owns me, my form, sounds, and thoughts
He is He for Whom I am wholly complete
And not a mere glimpse that their assumptions have sought.
He knows from before time-created
The scent of my soul-essence so solitarily subtle
My destinyís undiscovered pages written by Him
With struggles and sweet longing heard at battle with whim
In the long-dry paperís ever-present rustle.
His reflection in every luminescent tear
That my heartís cleansing rain has wrought
Heedlessness and debasement in every fear
That my stubborn ignorance sickness has bought.
His is my existence and nonexistence
My affirmations, my negations
His is my silence Ė song Ė standing Ė sujood
All colored with His Willís determination.
My every moment and thought are demanded by Him
Whose Hand designed both time and mind
Do not ask for I have nothing to give
For from His possession not a breath to live
Has, for me to own
Been left behind.
I have nothing to give you.
I lay no claims to sincerity or piety. Of the people who this poem touches, it has probably touched me the least. That is perhaps the greatest tragedy of my life and why poems like these are written. They are tombstones that sit upon dead hearts that once lived. The only thing I can claim is that I am the creator and owner of nothing...and even that is not a claim that is in my control...or that I am constantly aware of.
Please pray for me. I am a mess.on December 31, 2004 2:56 AM
Asalaam Aleikum Warahmatullah Wabarakatu,
Since you already have editorial priveleges...I would like you to read my next five posts (A poem in five parts). You will see them on the editing page saved as drafts. Insha Allah it will help bring you out of this mess.
and in Surat Al-anbiya:
"And remember Zun-nun, when he departed in wrath: He imagined that We had no power over him! But he cried through the depths of darkness, "There is no god but thou: glory to thee: I was indeed wrong!"
So We listened to him: and delivered him from distress: and thus do We deliver those who have faith. "
Wasalaam Aleikum Warahmatullah Wabarakatuon December 31, 2004 4:25 AM
The heart of a Muslim is never dead...it may slumber, doze-off, or hibernate...but these are all transient states of awareness (or lack thereof).
A heart that remembers the Almighty is in tune with its True essence...its beat is in rhythm with the rapture of the divine...and Insha'Allah we all want to be among those who have a remembering heart even though the rememberance of Allah be a whisper.
And dont beat yourself over Justoju San: May Allah Shower you with Blessings, and May HIS Mercy and Rada be on you in this life and hereafter...Ameen
Just to remind everyone:
Select "Asia Tsunami Emergency..." from the drop-down box.
I'll be trying to keep similar comments in the "noisemakers" section.on December 31, 2004 9:27 AM
Jummah Mubarik Everyone!
May Allah Bless all the Muslimeen who lost their lives in the past year and grant them His Mercy and Jannah...Ameen
And for us, the living ones, May He guide and keep us on Siraatal Mustaqeem in our life and in our death...Ameen
Ma'Assalaamaon December 31, 2004 6:43 PM
You're a beautiful mess. :)
"Love for worldliness is not real love, for even the whole world is not worthy of one's love, nor should its absence cause worry. A gift is a gift only when it leads you to the Giver. If it stands between you and God, it is no more a gift. It is misfortune."---Hujwirion December 31, 2004 6:59 PM
May Allah use you as a tool to spread knowledge, goodness, and love for Allah, the Almighty, the Creator, the Sustainer, the Most Just.
And unto Him will we return.on December 31, 2004 8:17 PM
Salaam Sannia San:
Thats an awesome quote from (Hujwiri)...Masha'Allah.
Jazak'Allah Khair for sharing it!on December 31, 2004 9:51 PM
Its interesting how everyone commented on my comment, but no one really commented on the poem. This is what happens when you try to be honest with the readers :).
Khair, none of that is important. JazakumAllahu khair everyone for your duas (which are worth WAY more than comments mashaAllah).on January 1, 2005 4:43 AM
Salaam Justoju San:
Your poem was deep and touching alright, but your followup comment (about yourself) is what overshadowed your poem.
By being honest you had effectively brought spotlight on yourself and naturally everyone wanted to cheer you up, hence all the inputs.
I hope you and all the other writers do remain fresh and candid and not feel vulnerable. We are all brothers & sisters in Islaam, and we protect and cover for each other, and provide flavorful comments as needed :)...Insha'Allah
Asalaam Aleikum Warahmatullah Wabarakatu,
"Its interesting how everyone commented on my comment, but no one really commented on the poem. This is what happens when you try to be honest with the readers :)."
Actually, reading this poem and the ensuing comment has helped me to complete some vital parts in my (five) poems that I really did not know how to get out of my head and into writing.
Insha Allah now all those who already had the oppurtunity to read them (My sister, the hidaya editors: you and hassan) can read them in their finality when they are published on Hidaya over the coming weeks insha Allah.
"The heart of a Muslim is never dead...it may slumber, doze-off, or hibernate...but these are all transient states of awareness (or lack thereof)."
Masha Allah. Remind me of the parable of the tree; as long as its roots are deeply set if you cut off all it's branches it will still be able to grow them back.
Wasalaam Aleikum Warahmatullah Wabarakatuon January 1, 2005 4:40 PM