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Poetry


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1. My Emptiness

I wait for an ayah.

My eyes,
Cleft-like glass louvres on dusty windows
Close on windy days.

I miss Him.
This God of suns.
His fire,
The pride of the accursed devil,
Sings warmth to an audience of muddy skin.

I call my spine to bend
And I become
What letters are to a poem,
Unwavering shapes dressed in ink and paper,
Waiting to be read
Only
By The Ever Conscious,
The Most Beautiful,
And become a bee
Wrapped and glistened
Inside the nectar of His gaze

I wait for an ayah.
A word.
A sound in the silence.
Each passing moment lives in lips
Yet to part for air.

Oh Allah
Will You speak of
Me?

My emptiness will only break in the song of Your voice.

2. Perfume

God only crushes petals and wings.

His palm,
A distance that dwarfs entire horizons,
Breaks
The flower.
Creases rush in zig zags across the face.
Skin and bone fold
And the body is compelled by fragile compassion
To shatter its form.

I am your poem

The body says.

You speak,
And I bend into the shape of the next letter you say.
I am a word that can only become
After your voice creates me first with thought and then with sound.
In between breaths, I long for you.
There is no minute unworthy of a heartbreaking lament
At how this distance dares keep me away from you.

You are beautiful.
This heart is worthy of your creation.

How can you make something so soft hold
So much
Of what it
Feels
About you?

You crush me

And I declare in joy
My wish
To be among the ranks of flowers that offer you
The strongest perfume
For when you declare my
Death
And bring me closer to you.

3. Entropy

en•tro•py

/ˈɛntrəpi/

entropy, the measure of a system’s thermal energy per unit temperature that is unavailable for doing useful work. Because work is obtained from ordered molecular motion, the amount of entropy is also a measure of the molecular disorder, or randomness, of a system.

  • .

What happened here?

He asked.
The wind raged on,
Sails and dunes turned faceless looks to one direction.

A collision course lay between the now and the tomorrow,
And all we hope to become
Breaks
Before all we have to bear.

Time happened

I say.

There was no one left anymore.
And so everything was left to stand still.
Unattended.
Untouched.
A planet turns
And the heart stayed on its back,
Unable to be seen again.

This is the nature of entropy.
Destruction
Is promised on everything.

4. Fragrance

Open the doors to your mind, little one.

See
beyond your glass heart.

you will observe
an orbit of worlds
locked
in a tidal embrace with the sun,
twirling like pagans
inside a storm of angered gods.

and do not let the night blind you.

every part of the shadow
bends
before both bonfire and stars.
and so this suffering is merely
the Hand
that crushes the flower
to make you a perfume.

I can feel the love of Allah
in my bones
A warm, soft blanket embracing me
like a fetus in the womb
A certainty of His Mercy
engraved in my soul
Soothing me
over every hurt of tragedy
and every wound of confusion

I have taken
God
as my friend
A special love language
shared between us
Where I talk for long hours
in the deadness of the night
In murmurs
and quavers
and rambles
and He listens through it all
Keenly
Tirelessly
Repeatedly

My Lord and I
have built this bond
where I ask
and He grants me my wishes
in abundance
or in superior firms
His affection encompassing
the entirety
of my universe
Sometimes,
We sit in utter silence
Him,
Understanding the language of my heart
and I,
receiving His compassion
in portions bigger than
my form

And whenever I think of Him
a spring of gratitude gushes within me
Washing off me any residues
of doubt
and uncertainty of this life
The impermanence of this world
vivid with every death
and every departure
I want nothing of this universe
and all its planets of deceit

A splendid day will dawn
upon mankind
where souls
will be filled with euphoria
of fulfilled dreams
and enriched beauty
Yet my heart swells with
a yearning that is
richer
than all of paradise
For on that fine day
there would be nothing
more beloved
than gazing at the Magnificent Face
of My Love.

I come to you once again

Lord of my frail heart

and wandering thoughts

To You I belong

and to You

I seek refuge

from the atrocities

of my soul

I send peace and blessings 

to the embodiment of Mercy

The epitome of beauty

and the essence of bravery

My beloved prophet

Muhammad

Salla Llahu aleyhi Wassalam

*

I call unto you

Ya Kareem

with dear wishes 

and dire needs

that none can grant me

But You

Respond to me

My Lord

For there’s no response

more beloved to me

than Your response

*

Ya Salam

Ya Wakeel

I hand you the affairs of my mother

For her worry is too big

for the universe

and too small for You

Grant her serenity

Oh Giver of peace

when the world seems

a bit too much for her

Grant her Your Love

Ya Wadood

For she is the manifestation of widaad

donning love

in all its shapes

and all its colours

Grant her Your Highest Jannah

For You are Al Wahhab

The Great Giver of gifts

and she is Wahiba

the receiver of Your gift of giving

And what better reward than a most beautiful garden

For a lover of gardens?!

*

I pray to you

Ya Raafi’

Elevate the status of my father in the heavens

Make the angels chorus his name

Let the humans know his title

on a day that everyone 

seeks Your attention

Ya Malik

Grant Him palaces next to You

of majestic, magnificent architecture

than he’s ever dreamed of

For he has raised daughters

And sons

And grandchildren

in a way that suits 

Your love 

and grand Mercy

*

I beg You

Oh Most Pure One

Purify my sisters 

my brothers

my nephews and nieces

for they seek nothing

than Your purity

Ya Muhaymin

I beseech You to be their Guardian

and Their Light

in a world that is so wicked

and so wrong

in so many ways

Grant them goodness

Ya Barr

For you’re the source of goodness

And a Benefactor of a kind

Fill them with happiness and joy

in both this world

and the one that comes

next

*

Ya Rahman

I have loved ones in the graves

Ones that I miss dearly

Ones that I pray for mostly

Pardon them 

Oh Pardoner

Illuminate their spaces

in a way that befits You

Ya An-Nur

Grant them new homes

more beautiful

Than they left behind

Grant us a reunion

more joyful

more blissful

more pleasant

than we could ever envision.

*

I invoke you

Ya Baasit

Extend to me,

my lovely family,

my cherished friends,

and my very dear ones

Your Mercy

in all that we do

Guide us to Your path

and make us steadfast

in it

Give us wisdom

when we are blinded by the world

Grant us ease

when nothing seems easy

Enrich us, Ya Mughni

with faith 

and hope

with contentment 

and peace

with love 

and compassion

Make us among Your favourites

for I yearn for nothing

more than that

Oh My Beloved.

I pray.

I pray. 

I pray.

Photo by Idina Risk from Pexels

I beseech Your aid

Oh God

For my heart has become a graveyard

with withered flowers

and weeds of undesirability

I can no longer bear the weight

of the caskets carrying

the deadness of my emotions

My doom-laden pillars crumbling

at the height of my anxiety

and my tombstone

displaying engravings

of all the letters

of pain

***

I invoke you

Ya Allah

This desolation

has brought me to my knees

My hands raised high

to the sky

Save me, Oh God

For my mind has become

a battle field of abrupt wars

and hostile armies

Only this time

I am both the ally

and the enemy

Corpses of my thoughts

lie around like hungry fleas

sucking the life

out of me.

***

I beg for mercy

My Lord,

This affliction

is wrecking my soul

An air hunger seizing my lungs

amid a thunderstorm of craze

A heavy downpour of anguish

floods my entire being

while the strong winds howl

at the loss

of my sanity

***

I implore you

My Creator

For a miracle

When everything seems impossible

Let your

Light

Beam through this shadow

Turn the valley of my wounds

Into river beds

Where your Mercy

Can flow through

If my soul is in the shade that pleases you

Then I ask,

O Maker of suns,

To show me how to bloom.

I pray.

I pray.

I pray.

Have you ever seen a nightingale sing?
When the clouds are white
and gray
and orangish blue
When the sun is still peeping shyly
through the sky
like a child who’s still learning
to carry
the weight of her mother tongue

There are some things you notice
only when you’re in glee
When the heart is at rest
with its existence in the world

Like the first touch of fresh, cool air
when it reaches your lungs
Cleansing you of all dust
and ashes
Blowing your noodle-like hair around
Strands of it lingering on your radiant face
The gentle swishing of leaves
dance to the reviving melody of the nightingale

The sun rays,
a strong energy of red
and the happiness of yellow,
piercing through your ebony eyes
glittering
like they were dipped in perfect shades of olive
and brown

Your mother’s honey voice
hums silkily
in the vastness of her love
She sings a song of enchantment
A tune already engraved on your soul
Her maroon white hair rests weakly on her shoulders
You stand side by side
Fingers interlocked delicately
as you watch the tan beauty
perching on one of the branches
in the lush green forest

It serenades your souls
with the procession of rippling whistles,
and trills,
and gurgles
that makes the entire universe stand still
Listening to the powerful performance
of an exquisite bird
A gentle trickling sound
of a river
meanders by
Possessing your entire being
with a solace
unknown

A poet stands to watch
and a writer
and an artist
The muse is in front of them
unraveling
all the magic of dawn

And you stand there too
You glance at your frail mother
as she raises her head from
the wheelchair
to look at you
Her eyes twinkling
as she beams with bliss
And it just seems like God
has pinned you as a favourite today
Because suddenly,
everything has a tune of joy
to it.
On this day,
It feels like the universe
is shining
on you.

I don’t think they give you enough credit

Father

That you’re a man beyond 

the role of a provider

A protector

shielding us from the world

that is vile

and evil

A man whose sole purpose

is to exist as a rock 

for the whole family 

to lean on

And even when you’re crumbling inside

you’re not allowed to

be anything less than a lion

*

I don’t think they appreciate you enough

when you carry us;

heavy, grown teenagers

weighing a soul and bags of bones

to our beds

Our eyes asleep

to the love in your eyes

Our hearts deceived 

by the definition of you

A man whose value goes lower

with every gift you’re unable to buy

and with every problem you’re unable to solve

I believe you’re brave to hold the world

of your one

Two 

Ten

children

on top of your head

Balancing it 

with your steady feet

on a very shaky ground

No one gets to see the melancholy in your heart

when things are falling apart

Because everyone depends on you

to hold them together

Be their string and glue

Be the man you’re expected to be

*

I don’t think they cherish you enough

Father

When you smile and act like a clown

to crack us up into wild laughter

Making us believe that this world is indeed

rainbows and unicorns and ice cream

Your love is something else

out of this world

You put your entire well-being aside

to be there 

for the people you hold dear

I don’t see a better definition 

of love

than your love

Father.

Nobody teaches you

how to love

a narcissistic son

How to wrap your arms

around the grand ego

engulfing his tiny body

Willing to snatch the pride

off the tip of his tongue,

to swallow it on his behalf.

And in the rushing cold that fills his soul,

show him how to

empathize

with the agony

of the world

To bow

low enough

so he can see through

the lenses of humility.

Nobody teaches you

how to strip off

the clothes of vanity

that he adorns himself with,

burning away

any remnants

of decency in himself

for the world to applaud

Flaunting

like a sun

with whole worlds revolving

around him.

Nobody teaches you

how to embrace him

when his hugs bear

the softness of cactus thorns

tearing your heart apart.

A bitter lump

rising in your throat

when his venom words are spat out

to humiliate

and intimidate

and demean.

Nobody teaches you

how to mould a son

that stands tall

to compete with the might of mountains

Stamping his feet

on every living creature

like a dirty rug

Worthless.

Invaluable.

Defective.

Nobody teaches you

how to love a son

who believes

in the godliness of his self.

***

This poem reached the semi-finals (top 8% among the over 3,500 poems submitted) in the 2020 Jack Grapes Poetry Prize alhamdulilah!! Immense gratitude to my poetry teacher and inspiration, Finch (Ahmed Shayo) for constantly pushing me to improve my art. Been staring at my name y’all, still can’t believe it 😀 Anyway, here’s the link to the semi-finalists so you can enjoy the moment with me 🙂 : https://www.culturalweekly.com/2020-jack-grapes-poetry-prize-the-semifinalists/ (Winners have already been announced by the way 🙂 ) Thank you for your constant support!

Image Courtesy: https://weheartit.com/entry/334051433

Whenever I miss you,
which is as often
as the sun rising from the East,
the dawn of your thoughts
take possession
of my brittle mind
penetrating through the cracked, glass window
of my soul
like the early sun rays
ready to conquer my heart
yet one more time.
The adhan is but a symbol
of the timelessness
of my love
waking me up from
the depths of my fantasy
The wudhu’s cold touch
hauls me back to reality
washing off me
the residues
of yesterday’s ache.

Whenever I remember you,
a strong tide
of sorrow
takes over the
ocean of emotions
within my soul
pulling me further out
into the embrace of distance.
In absolute agony,
I lay down my mswallah
that you once gave me
and make i’tikaf on it
talking to My Most Beloved
of you,
my beloved.
There is only one pure way
to love
so I raise my hands
to the Almighty
and place you
in His loving hands.
A testament of love
that none can dare
come between.

My tongue is wet,
heavy on the
Allahu Must3an
because God knows
only He can extinguish
the turmoil engulfing the
heart of a lover
with flames
of grief.
I call on the Lord of Ibrahim
to save me
from the blaze set on my being
I call on the Lord of Ayub, and the Lord of Ya’qub
to grant me
a beautiful patience
I call on the Lord of Yunus
to rescue me from
the hollowness of the darkness.

The hadith says,
‘The guider towards good
is like the doer’
so I recite every letter of the Qur’an
with reflection
with deliberation
hoping that for every 10 rewards,
you get a share of it.
With every mention and longing,
during the wee hours of the night
you are raised in status
With every dua
that I beg Allah
to grant you,
the angels can say
‘And for you is the same’.

If we’re not meant to be
in this world
then I am content
cherishing your very existence
in the same universe as I do
loving you at a distance,
through my prolonged sujood.
Let the ground that I prostrate on
be a witness
of all the times
I ask Allah
of His Mercy
Upon you.

***

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