There’s a story behind those eyes.

There’s a story behind those eyes.

The sun sets differently,

and the moon shines in the other

Secret gardens blooming in each alcove

with underground troves of words and memories

too deep to rediscover.

Be generous, oh eyes,

cry and cleanse the treasure beneath them

the treachery witnessed has flooded your ponds

wrecking havoc and drowning your gardens.

Weep away the dirt you forgot to sweep away

before they fossilize and erode the wisdom

you’ve been polishing over the

silent, exhausting, and broken years.

Beneath those eyes there lies a hero

fighting the mirage of a ghostly, ghastly, phantom devil

always watching and peering through

at all the scenes you see and do

collecting all the reasons for you to falter

digging ditches and setting traps for you to fall for

These are your nightmares, mirages that don’t exist

But the hero within, is real and persists

waging a war, a single warrior waving a flag

and waiting for your order

as You are the commander

and the phantom awaits your surrender

But the hero- the warrior, remains ever standing

for the call to finish your battle

every night.

ready to gift you

your due victory

and rewrite the pages

of your story.

 

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Don’t be a monster, you’re not a monster

Please don’t be a monster
Don’t let it devour you
It hurts to hurt but
Don’t let it seethe you
Remember when you were a little girl
And you would try to see it through

Don’t be a monster
Just let these feelings pass
Think of all the soft petals
Brushing across your rosey cheeks

Its okay, you are still you
They are just old
And hurting to make it through
Be nice to them, and work for them

They raised you with love and honey
And warm milk and enough money
For you to grow and smile

So remember those smiles
Remember their smiles

You are not a monster
So don’t be a monster
Don’t let their harsh words devour you
They still love you
And always will love you

Your mouth must hold the thorny roses
For their empty vases
Because they poured all their water
Into your empty glass
So you can be full and
Face the world of faces
And be quenched to face its heat
So don’t ever slip and beat
And make yourself feel weak

Serve them well with your full glass
And hold their thorny roses
So you all can smell its soft petals

And plant their last smile
For their short while left.

Garden by the wishing well

Garden by the wishing well

Take these distilled moments and let it be spilt into a wishing well. 
bc it’s meant to be spent
And lost
Let love be treasured
there’s no expiration
create a new default
Where faults are now fertile ground
For gold dafodils to sprout
Weave a new basket to pick away all doubt
there is no rush
There is no hurry
whisper all your fears away
with the soft glow of late bloom
let it consume the grief away
let it lash the confusion with lush lavender
be rained upon with cream rose petals
that reflect good memories from the past

This is your garden and that is your well.
so flourish
And let trickle the days you fell

A threshold past the heavens

are you catching on
are you catching onto how each cloud reflects the sky in its own view
bringing color and form in every possible hue
are you catching onto how each cloud gives the sky purpose

and how the sky finds purpose with the clouds
and that we see the final scene
with all of it’s everlasting depth and beauty

are you catching onto how this scenery is the secret to all we yearn
that it’s all we need to learn
every breeze plows the clouds apart
fashioning each strobe most delicately through the horizon
there’s wisdom in every whispered wonder in whatever cloud that descends a little lower than usual

do you see the magnitude before your eyes
what is arrogance
what is pride
what is ownership
when that which is beyond us
is past our bewilderment

what little is left
but love
something we can acquire

a threshold of its own
a bridge that leads to further discovery
creating beauty from all the past and misery
as the sun sets away last of it’s days fusing light
to fall in love with the moon
and enlighten another path
that can only be seen in the night
and each star to twinkle us through time until we set again

and again, and again.

for us to find a reason to smile again,

and again.

Money and Status

 

don’t dig through others’ pockets
for gold that’s already been sold
reset your clocks to when you were only sowing
the seeds before you began plowing and reaping
your ego and reeking of prestige that only the blind
with heavy pockets are obsessed to see

bring back your memory of blood sweat and tears
oh the happy years of living without the fears of degradation
you left it all to the One in control
that was your only reparation
because you knew your sole purpose was for your soul,
not to please others and become the one who oppresses
and controls
and sees through numbers

 

 

Punched in the face by hypocrisy

Bismillahi rahmani rahim

How should I start this.  Amidst the wonderful opportunities of meeting amazing people, I’ve also crossed-paths to discover instances that kinda broke my heart.  Hypocrisy.  My intention isn’t to point out the hypocrisy in others, rather it’s to recollect the sadness that I experience and find a window of sunshine through it.

I’ve been basically a hermit for the past few years ever since coming back from Bayyinah in 2013, and in general the circumstances in my life had left me with very little understanding of people and the outside world.

So all of a sudden since getting back in touch with the community and in general, life itself, I’ve discovered many uniquely spectacular people.  I fell in love with everyone that showed even a little bit of humanity and respect. I also found people I thought were inspiring and like-minded, like I’ve finally found the right crowd of people, -despite me still being the quirky oddball weirdo (my highschool personality still resonates from within) ,

erm so where was I..  yeah so there were some really cool people I met and I kinda looked up at em but then as I spent more time, things weren’t as I thought they’d be. Small uncanny surprises made their way and I actually realized how much I disagreed with these people.

Like a lot.

I thought maybe it’s a culture difference.  but nowadays, most people develop their own versions of culture.  idk yaar i’m just saying that when these people display Islamic practice and then I see some things that aren’t very islamic, more like not islamic, like un-Islamic.

it just kinda hit me.

One of the worst cases was when the Imam-uncle was straight up harrassing me for 4 hours when I told him my marriage was an insult to Islam and that info about my marriage is confidential information.

Like bro that aint how being an “imam” works.. ugh! this is why people hate Islam! he made me hate being born as a girl.  the misogyny and arrogance was fuming out of him.

that’s one of the extreme cases though.

There are lighter cases but I guess in this day and age, these are all nuances.  nobody cares.

I care tho.

eheh that’s why im writing about it.  I know I have my weaknesses, and I accept that when I do bad things, that they’re bad things, and I more than wish for others to not suffer from weaknesses like mine. But when you preach one thing and then show another thing, that’s when it’s messed up.

when you appear as a role model for youngsters, that’s when it’s messed up.

and when you talk a ton, say all these super ilm-y (knowledgey)  things, but then your actual demakh (mind, baal)  appears empty, that’s when it kinda just slightly punches me across the face in astonishment.

like there’s so much talk about taking a right turn, but then why do I see you limping to the left side of the street.

ur just another person to me now, but one who punched me in the face.  with good qualities and bad qualities, but one who punched me in the face.

I’ll pray for you and strive hard to educate others to not be like you, and most importantly, for me to not be like you,  somebody who admired you.