What have you achieved?

I’d like to tell you how amazing the past few days have been for me. I’ve spoken to so many new people, including someone I’d been secretly crushing on for about two years. I’ve challenged myself beyond my expectations. I successfully did 5 push ups because a couple of girls cheered me on. Truth is I barely hit 3 when I’m alone in my room. Before the past few days I thought I was a bad actor but now I’ve second thoughts about that.

At this point I’m quite sure you think I’ve lost it, let me assure you that I’m only trying to draw a fine point in your mind.

You’ve to realize that I’ve made you read over a hundred words. I believe I’ve achieved a lot now so I’m retiring to bed. What have you achieved?

...into this space

4.

Staring into this space and looking into the reasons why there is too much within that isn’t without. Thoughts are strong, they could be stronger, but actions are weaker than the thoughts that perceived them. We live but we die each day until we are dead. Listen to me but hear the sounds that give you life. The people we are is the facade of the people that were. Are there questions that my questions haven’t answered? Or are there answers that my questions contradict? Do you know what you are hearing? Did you understand what you heard?

To the many questions of life I suggest you simply smile while your mind, body and soul settle the dispute within...   

But into this space, and into this space, for into this space there are more questions than there are answers... 

All i could say

 

Riddles on my mind, questions for the lady who stole my thoughts

when she spoke...

My mind went Deeper than the depth of the squirrel’s hole

But most shallow were my actions when she spoke...

I didn’t stare at her for too long

I didn’t have to raise my head to watch in admiration

For her voice drew the most detailed images in my mind...

And when I had the chance to tell her how much of a fool her voice turned me into

All I could say was “I love your voice, you have a beautiful voice...”

Words of the coward in me to the stranger that stole my mind...

I doubt her voice will cease to plunge me into the abyss of tomfoolery

But I can pretend that this stranger means no more than a painting at the gallery

The big lies I tell myself...

Whoever believed there existed an elf

Or elves and the whole Santa story!

If she is a lie I’m bound to live

Then my thoughts I will give!

To the paintings her voice creates in my thoughts;

I will be the millionaire collector

But like a convicted debtor

I will keep my distance...

I might be just like you!

3.

The world around me is moving too fast. My hands are stretched out. I need to catch up but I keep falling back. I’m losing the purpose of my existence. There is me and there is the me that lives on my desires. I don’t know how much of the things I’ve been through really matter. Did I find myself doing those things because they were right for me or because it’s all written? Each day a thousand questions flood my straying thoughts. I want to live in my own world; a world where there is me and only me with all the things I love. That could be just one place, heaven! No matter how hard I try I still don’t feel like I deserve my desires.

To the lips that bark at me and the lips that wag at my back and the lips that spit praises of me; I’m no more than a struggling young man, I don’t confirm the rumours about me and I won’t accept the praises... all I can do is smile and keep my secrets to myself.

To the eyes that claim to see the other side of me; I’m no three dimensional image...

So just watch, just look, for I might be just like you...  

footsteps and the shadows...

2.

Footsteps and the shadows that evade my straying thoughts, darkness and the childhood I keep having nightmares about... alone; that’s what we are but that’s what I was. I look ahead hoping I see us walking like we used to. Is there something I did wrong? Or is fate telling me there can’t be a you when I wake up? My love for the black angels and the widow who was white; are there questions I’ve refused to answer? I will say what I can, I fear no one besides the Merciful Creator and if there should be fear of the created then the heart is dripping with soot.

I’m weak; there are no doubts to the frailty of the stick that stands alone. Maybe I’m that stick that can bend to both ends without being split into two pieces. I’m here and I’m there but my wish is that I drop dead with a bullet through the heart I allowed to sin. My wish is that I drop dead for Allah’s sake. What else is better than selling your life for the bliss of the hereafter?

I don’t fear you, No! I can’t fear the man who worships the desires of Allah’s enemies. Cages will only make me like Yusif and bullets will only make me like the men that bled on Badr. Now tell me who the loser is.

Footsteps towards my dream and the shadows that merely darken the path I tread...

Alhamdulilah!       

...the cutlasses remain blunt

1.

If there is so much that we can do then why do we do too little as men? Is it that we have stopped believing or do we blame the imaginary forces against progress? I am because my parents were. Each person on this earth is part of the bigger picture, the ever growing network of people; the children of Adam!  I can only hold on to two hands during this short trip which, to me, has an unknown fate. In the end, all that matters is faith in the Lord of the man who split the moon.

If a man leaves his peaceful home to cause havoc in his neighbour’s home then his neighbour has the right to control + C the exact same havoc and control + V it where it came from. That is the law of retribution. Forgiveness is divine, man is but a slave to the Lord of the worlds. I had no say in the decision to create ‘me’ so why should my lips question the decree of God. I submit my limbs and heart to the service of the one who created you and everyone else that was and is.

Blood is red, skins are tender but the cutlasses remain blunt...

You think I'm scared...

 

A breeze with a thousand words

My eyes are weakened by tears

And my bare scalp; a mere spectacle

The feel of ink on paper

The disposition of a forlorn poet...

Lost in the times I thought we shared

Found in the hope that it isn’t over after all

The wind carries far sounds to my inquisitive ears

A million reasons for the oppressed to take up arms

The man who stands up to the oppressor is like a bird...

Like the hawk I’ve always loved

Or like the cold blooded black beauty that caressed my foot.

I’m a man wandering in the emptiness of my heart.

I’m torn in between the fleeting and the eternal

Let the soil in my mother’s garden decide...

As much as there is hope, there is fear;

Hope begets fear.

If I grow my beard it’s because I belong; the expected gong!

The obstinate desire to be amongst those foremost in faith

So let’s take a third look at why we are here.

It’s cold,

The clouds look heavy,

No stars to wonder at,

A heart filled with faith,

And the hope that my fear

Leads me back to you...

If you thought Jenin was the only reason to cry

Then Arakaan and Gujarat

Are just two more out of hundreds...

Again the Zionists blind us with dust...

Those who sit and watch passively are like the cattle

That tread the footpaths of the Fouta Djallon...

The darkness of my heart,

And the light in the horizon.

I’ve walked the thousandth mile,

And still I wonder when I shall reach

The standards set by the man who split the moon

Allah knows best...

I’m just a slave who ended with a period.

Or two..

 so you thought i got scared after the third period...