Playing With Fire

I'm playing with fire
everytime I speak, I'm playing with fire
Every time my eyes meet with his, I'm playing with fire
Everytime I doubt a man's integrity, I'm playing with fire
Every time I begin to speak a lie, I'm playing with fire
Everytime I rob myself of modesty, I'm playing with fire
Every time I raise my voice, I'm playing with fire
Every time I say YES, I'm playing with fire
Everytime I believe in these rhymes I speak to guide me
I'm playing with fire
A fire in every home, the town is on fire
I am the arson who sets fire to wood
Who drains the flowing streams to see the flames rise
I'm playing with fire
This raddle that soothes my cry
A hushed child in the corner with all it's toys
Rocking the cradle deep into the grave
The flames are too great to extinguish through anything but pain
This pain envelopes the fire and exhales in tears
Bows it's branches into the dirt
With its leaves sweeping the sweet sound of peace
It's time to let the fire out
Everytime I say maybe, could be... a voice of doubt.. I'm playing with fire
I am the arsonist
I am the chance that can never be taken
I am the sweat behind the bars imprisoned by crime
But to find the ocean that eats this fire by every atom is what this soul cannot bare
And for every breath
And for all of time
I declare my existence not through fire, but through the heavens
Through the waves of the ocean and the depths of the clouds
From this soul that is here, even when I am not
For this soul that witnesses, what I cannot
I am the arsonist
I am the chance that can never be taken
I am the sweat behind the bars imprisoned by crime

The Heart Speaks

This state of my soul
Has been echoed over and over again
In these poems and in these verses
Sometimes I don't know what I feel
I can hear the thump of my heart
BOOM BOOM BOOM
My words no longer seem real
This Heart Speaks

I can hear the thump of my heart
BOOM BOOM BOOOM
There is this era in which we're living
Believing that the grease flowing from these pans
Is the relief and glory of life
It's death to existence
Death to identity
To be another Jane Doe when the fire burns off the flesh
off this face and not a thumb print is left to trace
This Heart Speaks

My heart now racing
I can hear the thump of my heart now fading
From green light to red light
Flashing these warnings
I don't hear them
I can't hear them
SPEAK LOUDER
It's too late for me
I hear the whisper in my ears
SPEAK THE TRUTH
JUST ONCE SPEAK THE TRUTH
It's too late for me
My soul speaks and my voice has no say
The Heart Speaks

I see it in your eyes
You speak of a struggle
and Now I know, I am that struggle
I am who is leading you to this struggle
I am the influence you now resent
I am what I've detested for all of time

It's too late, too late
I've killed the late stand
Killed the last crowd
And now.. I've killed these words
The Heart Speaks
I slashed the last chord of this throbbing heart
I let the blood flow to an escape
I couldn't speak
I couldn't say
Simple as: I believe in Allah
I believe in the unseen

Now the heart speaks
The ink fades
For an eternity there is no voice
There is the soul that sweats from fear
The flames of hell standing too near
The Heart Speaks

Now the Heart Speaks
And takes a stand
Demands it's limbs to fight like a man
Give up it's desire for maidens of possession
And enslave this tongue to testify the beat of the heart
I believe I believe I believe
This heart thumps and beats with life
It flows with tears of fear
It frowns with every scorch and smiles with every light
The Heart Speaks

HIPS

HIPS

To be hidden in plain sight
Hidden; to conceal from sight
sight; glimpse, judgment
A contradiction to an implication
Truth in reality
Distant from agility

But when a gaze fixed on tender flesh
Soft to the eyes, coarse to the touch
Anorexic to the feel, obsese on the scale
Every arch, every bend, every curve
Stained by the inch, stained by the glimpse
Stained from a lifted gaze setting ablaze
And the form whisper in these eyes

Selling this body for not even a cent
For every gaze that stole
The soul begins to feel
The mind begins to realize
Launch into a realm of non-existence
Not an ounce of modest cell is left within this body
From the truth i can no longer breathe
It was enough to crawl under a rock
Be MIA until they come looking
Reporting a cave woman found in the deserts of some unsaid place
It was enough to hide behind curtains and be locked in layers
It was enough to be hidden in a treasure chest
Burying the key in the bottom of the sea
It was enough to blind every man's eyes
So not another gaze can be fixated on another curve

It was enough, but we aren't institutionalized
By the Guidance of Allah we find a way to survive
To walk with the flag of mothers of this nation
To walk ahead with rows of men bowing their heads in humility
We are women, the womb in which they bred
We are women, the breast from which they fed
We are women, Heaven lies beneath our feet
We are women, Martydom awaits us in the pangs pains of labor

Walking these streets with some hope to turn heads
Make the hearts shiver of even the dead
And this soul begins to cry and plea for freedom
There's freedom of religion, freedom of speech but this freedom of dress
Is a key to the prison of heart and soul, not to impress
Have some respect for the hand that rocks your child to sleep
For the voice that comforts your child's cry
For the body that yearns for a man that loves her

Now we walk the streets, the allies, the fields,
the cities, the states, the countries
It's a privilege to veil and walk
Our brothers are tested way more than we talk
Walking the streets glancing over every mini skirt and jeans
Summer rolls in and it's horror on the streets
Cut them some slack, cover up your body please
It's no longer a struggle, it seems to be a disease

I'm going to speak of what I can speak
I will show of what I can show
I walk the runway as the sunrises and falls
I walk the runway hand in hand with the earth
I see myself, but seeing me.. no one sees me
For every misled sister who stops me and asks me
What I put up with this oppression
I must say, you've put me in a state of depression
Because you don't understand
I know I am beautiful, I know I am young
To lift this veil of my face
and let a stranger see even a trace
is invasion of privacy
To say that modesty can be claimed with my clothes stopping before they begin
Is hypocrisy and contradicting it's own denotation

Is it this beauty that declares my existence
Or is it this soul that shall return to Him
In submission, I must stop, obey and listen
So please wrap me in these layers, in the thickest wool
I wish to live the life of the loved
Pull the curtains off the windows, shut the doors
And let the softness of the fabric engulf me in it's daze
I wont change, I wont change
But please, I pray you find meaning in being hidden but being seen
Being a woman walking as a queen
You demand your rights, you demand your respect
You don't put yourself to be victimized or womanized
Because you clearly object

HIPS - Hidden in Plain Sight
I am the day of the night
I am the heat of the cold
I am all you don't perceive
HIPS - Hidden in Plain Sight
So much more to learn
As I discover my plight

Cat Walk Lights

Just FIVE minutes before. Two sheets of paper. I couldn't remember the verses. I kept sweating bullets and glancing over with deep breaths. This was ruining me. I didn't want to look into their eyes to see the disgust. I can't believe, again... I didn't realize WHAT my purpose is. I held my tongue and retraced it to faith and certainty. TWO times and I blew it each time. I can't believe my first time of putting away the books was when so much was at stake. No more ink, just my mind recollecting each word and each verse. It was a chance that had to be taken to break away from the books. I remember, Sr. Najla said... once you break away, you never go back. I hope it's the truth. I want to be free as I saw her voice echo and to be free as I saw her hands and gestures accompany profound monuments of words. I want my voice to be heard to move mountains. I want my voice to be heard to shift hearts and move souls and capture nafs. I want my voice to be my witness. I saw the space I was informed to SQUEEZE through TO stage last minute. I was horrified... I knew the space wasn't enough. So veiling in purple and those sheets snatched from my hand I waited for my cue to lead the girls ahead. We got in place and I began to recite... just thinking... "I'm the opening act?! This is NUTS!" I know the light shone on me and they could all see me clear into the glass. I couldn't see any of them, it was too dark, so I pretended there was no one. I tried hard, but I saw the door open and I saw two faces... too familiar. I tried to echo my words loud enough through the auditorium but it robbed me of my emotion and of my voice. I didn't want to be NOT heard, even if it wasn't my best... I wanted to be heard. Line by line I felt the nerves break and the ice melted. Though, it soon traveled to my ears that my voice spoke differently, my voice shoke with nerves when my mind was focused too hard. I know I forgot a verse or two, but it played out well. It's a learning experience. It gets better, I know... it gets better. No worries.. I didn't SPEAK well... but I looked good ;). (Joke)

HIPS Debut & Fashion Extravaganza
Rosslyn Spectrum
Sisters Only
HIPS - Hidden in Plain Sight
On Vid.
Dec 20th, 2008
Afternoon.
Slide Show in back accompanying performance + synchronized Movements from sisters.
Too much to remember. Rehearsals. Too long (on heels). Good times. Good moments. Alhumdulillah. (Food was awesome ;))

I intend what the people of knowledge have intended when they stand before a crowd and speak the truth. I intend what I have not intended. I intend Khayr. I intend the pleasure of Allah. I intend for a source of understanding and clarity. Ya Allah. Aameen.

It Is Possible

November 8th, 2008

As the strings on the guitar hit note after note and each verse echoed through the mic "are my intentions alright... am I doing it for Allah"... this state of confusion vanished. Now, the question wasn't "should I?" but rather... "Why am I?" Salutation after salutation, supplication after supplication... "Ya Allah Forgive me, let not these words be uttered from my lips and have no meaning in words with the depths of the seas and oceans." Could I be doing this for Him in anyway? Is it possible or is it an excuse? I was unable to be content with what I intended until that voice echoed through the mic and the verses caught my mind. It is possible. "Oh My Lord! Open me my chest, and ease my task for me; and make loose the knot from my tongue (20:25-27)" Intention upon intention, praying for a purpose... sakinah overtook me until I heard it... my name. I thought I was wise jotting my name on the bottom of the list, but before I knew it... it was my turn. My heart wasn't trembling, but my limbs were, they were out of my control. With an introduction, Bismillah... I began. It was a mix of adrenaline... a rush so great with a ease emanating within, this I couldn't understand. Page after page, gulping down each line, looking into the audience, each face was blurred and I couldn't see. I put on the 'break' and ended the last verses... with a sigh of relief, I can't believe... I didn't utter Alhumdulillah! I took a seat, took a deep breath... it was like it never happened. I sit here and wonder how it felt and I can't remember, because it's like it never happened. Did it happen? I was too engrossed in the "Phenomenon" going on to even care. Truth emnating from the mic once again, and I... enjoying the night away. All doubt spilled out of my core and I understood, He can be remembered where expression is in His rememberance.

Night of Sawa
November 8th, 2008
Daily Grind
Exit 17

Exit 17

Choices made out of love
Choices made out of need
Choices from the need to breathe

Take my hand and mark where I stand
Carrying my past into a radiant land

Landing with soul simmering into my veins
These hands feeling weak panting pressure on each cheek
Keeping the tongue from igniting into flames
Hear the flow, each hit on each vowel and syllable
Intricate lettering, verses incomparable
Whispers of silence and gruesome tales
Leashed for reality and no veil for the scales
A kiss from words injected through this slice in my brain
A shield for the back to guide and not entertain

Preserve this path and link back the chain
Streaming to the echoes of the cave
The hearts of the brave
From the squeeze in the chest
And the bones of the nest
Nothing can be suppressed
Because the tears roll with the overwhelming toll
A chance I can't let roll
I gotta squeeze and never release

This is an intention worth any action that can lead to salvation
Away from damnation so pursue the intention and make it sound
And you'll have it's worth someday
I remember you said
It was a lot to grasp but it made me laugh some
Killing me off already just with an intention with no other plan
I thought was funny, but I understood the long haul of few words
Dropping six feet and reviving in the ranks
The strength of lighted streets along the narrow road

I see my past going south each heart falling down
Playing in this game of sin and love
Cheating and hate
A game I did not create
Revealing more than secrets of the heart
Pulling thread by thread
Raising gazes and degrading one's existence
But of people, there is no sequel
To safegaurd is a command that is equal
I'm looking above but everything lands below
I see birds landing on fire
Innocence burning in the blaze
Pages feeding the flames
Line by line, the ink fades
Disco lights painting dark allies
Shattered glass from untamed beasts
Tears of hollow souls with no compass
With every more it seems like less
Chained to thorns with weights too great
A walk in life through denial of fate

Leaking and dripping
Too fast to fix the damage
It's like the chaos of carnage
A battle too severe
Of a reign too austere
But it's slipping and I can't win
Drowning too deep in wells of sin
Page by page, line by line
Losing my mind
A loss too precious with a great fine

To me this is too insane
Walking numb with no pain
No work for a return, not even a grain
Roughing it out in the streets
With a tough look and a fist in the air
sucker punching every clown and beast
Drinking the tears of defeat
Poison to your soul and death for limb and breath

That's not my road
Trying to find ground

Trying to find soul

Walking on this path with no place to go
I've heard too many excuses
I've made too many mistakes
What do I get if I turn back now
Exit 17 is what I wanna take
Signaling my turn with no law to break


Quenching my thirst with a gulp of defeat
Clenching my fist for every shaytan on the street
The path seems more beautiful than the final maqaam
Glazing over the horizon without even a grain of haraam
Catch my gist and throw down this fist
The clenching and the quenching
Is wrenching for this heart that's dying
And for this tongue that's lying with every breath that breathing
And this place where I'm standing is where I'm asking
Because I'm taking a chance and committing to insanity if it may be
But I know what I want to do, this is the path I'm going to pursue
Exit 17 is what I want to take,
let's pull on back and don't touch that break

I love maryam
by Olivia

Remember back at purdue,
during the summer of 2003.
It was there I saw you that day,
casually strolling down the street.

“Who’s that brother?!” I thought inside,
as my heart began to speed,
“SubhanAllah it’s like I’m seeing,
a sahabi walking down the street!”

I kept cool and lowered my gaze,
as you walked right on by.
Your beard swished in the sunlight,
“it’s so long”, I felt my heart sigh…

“Would I ever see him again?” I wondered,
he seemed like the guy of my dreams.
Guess I’ll go on with life for now,
make dua to be given the means.

But I couldn’t forget about you,
so I would tell all of my friends.
I talked about you constantly,
kept babbling on without end.

“Liv,” one friend advised,
“you know, some people might overhear.”
“We’ll have to give him a codename,
in case we’re heard by other ears.”

So it was decided you’d be Mariyam,
the “sister” I liked so much.
Who knew she was so wonderful,
and that I’d have such a crush.

But, alas, our paths kept crossing!
It seemed like more than coincidence.
Even now I feel myself smile,
as I recall each incident.

There was the time outside the lab,
when I almost ran into you!
It was there I always saw you,
wondering if you saw me too.

One time I printed something,
and the paper had my user ID.
In big black letters “okompier”,
all you’d need to email me.

An idea flew to mind,
there was a trash can within your reach.
“I’ll just place it right on top,” I thought,
“make it innocent and discreet.”

But I guess you never saw it,
and my hopes began to fade.
How can this ever work?
I don’t even know his name.

Then there was that time I went,
to Blue Nile for something to eat.
But since all the tables were full,
I went for desi food across the street.

I was about to start my lunch,
but my friend’s eyes grew wide.
“Liv!” she gasped breathlessly,
“you won’t believe who just came inside!”

There you were at the buffet,
so I tried to take a peek.
But you caught me looking at you!
I felt my stomach growing weak.

I stared blankly ahead,
too nervous to take a bite.
“Liv, he’s sitting right behind you!”
My head was feeling light.

These are some of many stories,
that prove the Qadr of our Lord.
But let’s skip to the climax,
before our readers get too bored.

I was doing MSA stuff,
with some sisters I hadn’t told.
They were talking about Sarosh,
whose identity I didn’t know.

“I don’t know him.”
“Sure you do!” one said.
“I’m sure you’ve seem him around.
He’s tall, rolls up his pants,
his beard nearly hangs to the ground!”

Sarosh! That was his name!
I found the key to unlock the gate!
All my duas had now been answered!
Oh Allah, what a beautiful fate!

I searched you on the directory,
your email was in my hands.
Now was the moment of courage,
but even fear couldn’t foil my plans.

I began to type the email,
“Asalaamu alaikum brother,” was the start.
“You may have seen me around,” I continued,
barely controlling my racing heart.

“I’m doing this Khadija style,” I wrote,
trying to make a show of confidence.
Don’t muslim guys tend to balk,
at female-initiated correspondence?

But you confessed you were interested too,
and that marriage was on your mind.
So from there our adventure began,
and a nikkah would be our bind.

We made dua for each other,
and Allah brought us together.
Mariyam, you’ve got my heart,
inshAllah, now and forever.

Expected to Expect

I'm a girl and I'm expected
I'm expected to do the things this world expects
But I don't want to
I expect of myself

It's flattering every now and then
But when it comes to expecting of me what you don't expect for yourself
I have to say stop!
Focus on you
I no longer expect
I only respect those who expect for themselves
Leave the expectations to individuals
And just question those expectations to see what they are
When the situation allows
Don't tell me what you expect of me
Ask me who I am and what I expect of me
What I expect of my life and of my future
Not what I expect of you
Don't tell me who I am in this list of your expectations

I ask myself... Who am I?
What right do I have to expect of you what I don't expect of myself?
So don't come in my territory and tell me what you expect of me
Tell me what you expect of yourself and I will know, that is what you expect of life
Don't live your life contrary to your orders
Live it word for word and then we can talk

Allah Ke Bande

I'm not linking to the video because unfortunately strings instruments are used. The lyrics themselves are awesome though Masha'Allah. I'd rant on about how I hate how they screw up such awesome verses with their videos and instruments, but I wont... again. My sister found this and I thought it was quite deep so I found the lyrics... translation following on the bottom

Toota toota ek parinda aise toota
Ke phir jud naa paaya
Loota loota kisne usko aise loota
Ke phir ud naa paaya
toota toota ek parinda aise toota
Ke phir jud naa paaya
Loota loota kisne usko aise loota
Ke phir ud naa paaya
Girta hua woh aasman se
Aakar gira zameen par
Khwabon mein phir bhi badal hi the
Woh kehta raha magar
Ke Allah ke bande hasde Allah ke bande
Allah ke bande hasde jo bhi ho kal phir aayega
Allah ke bande hasde Allah ke bande
Allah ke bande hasde jo bhi ho kal phir aayega

Kho ke aapne par hi to usne tha ud naa sikha
Kho ke aapne par hi to
Kho ke aapne par hi to usne tha ud naa sikha
Gham ko aapne saath mein lele dard bhi tere kaam aayega
Allah ke bande hasde Allah ke bande
Allah ke bande hasde jo bhi ho kal phir aayega
Allah ke bande hasde Allah ke bande
Allah ke bande hasde jo bhi ho kal phir aayega

Tukray tukray ho gaya tha har sapna jab woh toota
Tukray tukray ho gaya tha aa aaa aa
Tukray tukray ho gaya tha har sapna jab woh toota
Bhikre tukdon mein Allah ki marzi ka manzar paayega
Allah ke bande hasde Allah ke bande
Allah ke bande hasde jo bhi ho kal phir aayega
Allah ke bande hasde Allah ke bande
Allah ke bande hasde jo bhi ho kal phir aayega
Toota toota ek parinda aise toota
Ke phir jud naa paaya
Loota loota kisne usko aise loota
Ke phir ud naa paaya
Girta hua woh aasmaan se
Aakar gira zameen par
Khwabon mein phir bhi badal hi the
Woh kehta raha magar
Ke Allah ke bande hasde Allah ke bande
Allah ke bande hasde jo bhi ho kal phir aayega
Allah ke bande hasde Allah ke bande
Allah ke bande hasde jo bhi ho kal phir aayega
Allah ke bande hasde Allah ke bande
Allah ke bande hasde jo bhi ho kal phir aayega
Allah ke bande hasde Allah ke bande
Allah ke bande hasde jo bhi ho kal phir aayega

Rough Translation without repetition of verses

A bird was so badly broken
That he could not be healed
Somebody stole (the wings) from the bird
Till he was unable to fly
he fell from the sky
Onto the earth
Yet in his dreams there were still only clouds
And he kept saying
that the people of Allah will always stay happy (laughing)
The people of Allah will always be laughing... whatever happens, there will always be another day
Only after losing his wings did he learn to fly
Take your sorrow with you, for the pain will be of use to you
He broke into pieces when every dream of his broke
It is only in the scattered pieces of your dreams that you will find the meaning of Allah's Will.

What Better Way...

There's something else I'm supposed to be doing, but I'm here to do something for days and years down the line. I was just reading over someone's blog and I remembered an old post I had seen before so I went to find it... it was a poetry piece. I was blown away, because that poem... increased my love for them for the sake of Allah (swt). Although the poem was forced with a deadline, it told me something because of a reoccurring theme. I started thinking about my own poetry and about that person and their words and what better way to express it....

Hundred and more, that's how many pages
Letter for letter until my thumb was sore
Four years and nothing sticks
I'm my own teacher sometimes
I pick up that pile and remember who I was
Those were my thoughts, and I'm amazed
What went through my mind?
I thought like that?
I remind myself, because those things meant something to me
Those things someone else taught me, I wanted to jot down
But I only forgot
Now I have to teach myself, through my words
I cleared doubts I had from someone else's words
It taught me who they were
Can anyone learn who I am from this?
From the ink and The Book and the grave that shook
The voice for the youth, the thief in the night
The girl and the boy, the past and the present
The mother and the father, the sister and the brother
The silence and the noise, the spring and the fall
The night and the rain
My submission to the call
My struggle within, the fight with the sin
The hand for a friend and the step to save the world
Is it my voice or are they just words?
Will they remind me of my purpose now?
I pray they do, a waste to see... it all lead me to hell

The Night

The night speaks volumes
the clouds blanketing the glimmer of the stars
To where my sight is at rest
howling of the nightly ghosts fade
To where the sound is an echo in an orchestral ambiance

The night speaks volumes
the skin and robes layered in numbers
To where this soul abides
the internal systems animated in hidden layers
To where this flesh oozes with vigor

The night surviving as the epitome of lost souls
Until the sun shines through the mercy it holds
The guidance of odd paths
Budding faith in accounted chances
Journeying the cloudy nights

Sickened by the claims of these lone riders
Taint the loneliness with risen hands
One call for this moonlit dance
For these hands to sway and these feet to move
In directions unimaginable to this incapacitated intellect

For the blood in these veins to experience the effect
The wild horse running unleashed in the storm above
With the rain droplets sinking deep into the pores
Lone rider, wont you stay longer?
Lone rider no more; Slave I am journeying forever

The night speaks volumes
cheats the honorable
honors the cheater
Softens the heartbeat
And punishes the deceiver

Khoon Kay Rishtay

Ya khoon kay rishtay bhi... kya ajeeb bandhan hai
Dhoor hokay zindaghi khaali khaali lagnay lagthi hai
Qareeb hokay demagh kharaab hota hai
Kya hoti ya zindaghi aghar aas paas main waqt guzar tha
Aur kya hai ya zindaghi jab waqt kuch aur hota hai hummaray yahan
Suraj nikal nay lagtha hai jab wahan raat chah jaati hai
Kya ajeeb hai ya bandhan
App ko bina janay dil bechayn hota hai
Milnay ki tamanna rehti hai
Yahi raaz aur muhabbat khil nay lagthi hai
Khoon kay rishtay bhi... Allah ki naimat hai

Freestyle-like Stuffage

Why resurrect these tears?/ why ignite the heat?/ conquer the fears/ recall the spiritually elite/ the ink all gone/ the mind is flawed/ reverberated through rhymes and songs/waterfalls, rivers, seas, oceans/keys to escape this dungeon/the echoes of the waves of the currents/ through the walls painted with the cash flow and cents/ dispatch, some sign some signal to climb over the fence/ the wealth beneath the stones, raising to the skies/ this misery it buys/crossing the border with holes drilled deep/barbed wires and bricks weren't bought cheap/but from the sweat of my father, the sleepless nights of my mother/just to see their dreams go down the gutter/racing every track just to feed my brother/but this wall that echoes the waves/just a glimpse these eyes crave/to blink these lashes and catch some dust from the sea in this dream catcher/this pitcher's glove worn out losing its stature/ heads resting on these bricks with flashes of his daughter's mother/to hold her close and never look at a another/ the Will never questioned/ the trust never broken/ an escape for the chosen/ an expedition to search for the lost/ this prison was the cost/prison of the body/ liberation of the heart/ damned in words/ rescued in soul/

An accusation of faith/ a label on my state/ I think something in my mind/ feel something inside/ I believe I should have cried/ I should have risen to a trance/ to understand and abide/ this fear of this accusation/ messing with my purpose in ostentation/ this mat on the ground/ this forehead upon the dirt/ going from ruku' to sujood alert/ mind in the game/ mine was the same/ sitting by the window/ appearing as a shadow/ my gaze fixed on each motion/ he shut the door to his car with a mindset/ To the trunk and back to pay this debt/ behind the trees, a few steps in pace/ Was my home and place/ My brother, I too put my forehead upon the earth/ This too was my destiny from the time of birth/ I too fear my time in this traveling place/ I pray that you pass each trial with grace/ Allah is my Lord/ This truth cannot be ignored/ And as I feel this inside/ These words do subside/ My weakness/ My struggle/ From Him I cannot hide

Sacred Street Art

my next trip to NY, I wanna see this wall Insha'Allah.

http://www.vimeo.com/1448926

To Him we belong & to Him is our return.

S.K.

Over and over and over again we say, "she was so young, how did we come to see this day?" Age has no value in the eyes of death. Upon Allah's command, it is your last breath.

The Trend

as-salaamu 'alaykum

Yes, the cake turned out pretty decent. Alhumdulillah.

So word has it... I might be following a trend. This trend isn't a trend that's a trend for the trendy world, rather a trend from myself for myself that I myself seem to be following a bit more than this trend should be followed. Do you follow? I love reading blogs, especially ones that interest me... I can tell when someone's blog will interest me, even if I've never met the person before or even if I meet the person once... something just clicks "This dude (girl or guy) should write!"

I get inspired... and I think... firstly, Masha'Allah. Secondly... daang! I wish I could write like that. They're intellectual, yet down to earth and it emits from their presence and even from their words. At times their intellect endorses humor but that flow of knowledge and style in prose floods your monitor... post after post. Sometimes you just gotta force yourself to 'x' out and go do something more productive.

What's the trend? When I stumble upon such blogs and articles and poetry... I like attempting to write and see how it comes out... cuz the whole time I'm still thinking... maaaan... I wish I could write like that... I should've read more when I had the time in school. etc etc etc. So I wanna try and act like I'm intellectual and see if I can produce any of the posts worthy enough as those on their blogs. It usually never happens. But each time I read one. I get the rush. I wanna write. I gotta write. Not about myself... not about the world... I just wanna write about the inner and outer dimensions that cause us to overlook these words and verses as we screw up our intellect to make us inept to produce anything worthy of the posts on those blogs.

It's a gift man, being able to write like that is a gift.

The greatest thinkers are the greatest writers. And if such skills are put to waste rather than use, rather than to use them to build one's life where life never ends we waste them where life will end shortly or we use them for useless means and purposes.

I say no more.
wa as-salaamu 'alaykum

Fruit Chaat & Almond Lemon Cake

as-salaamu 'alaykum

So today I made Fruit Chaat and just finished baking an almond lemon cake. I made chai too, but chai is old news just like boiled rice (fruit chaat is ALMOST old news, but not AS old) & doesn't deserve any lime light. It's been 10 years. For the cake, it was my first attempt at this recipe... it looks pretty decent but I have absolutely no idea how it's gonna taste. The cake was almost a disaster. You see, I'm an idiot. Don't be an idiot. I didn't check to see, rather assumed that we had all the main ingredients for this cake, but when the time came to actually add them in I found I was lacking baking powder so unfortunately baking soda cannot substitute baking powder. It was more like a misunderstanding cuz we were supposed to still have baking powder... but anyways. The batter remained battered for about an hour until my mom came to the rescue and got some on her way home. I'm thinking that the pan was bigger than what was needed for this cake cuz there wasn't much after I finished mixing it all together. So... I just poured the syrup on top and left it to cool. I'll experiment on mammu & co. Haha.

And last night I made pastry like things with aaloo filling. No pics of those yet cuz they're still in the raw stages in the freezer, gonna bake them tomorrow or something insha'Allah. (TOMORROW *gasps* 23 years masha'Allah)

Allahi Allah

From the old school song "Allahi Allah"
A halal version (instrument-less) of this needs to be recorded. Seriously.

Bits and pieces and stuff of it that I could find online cuz listening to that thing again was not an option. [begin rant] *Ewww* Why must they screw up such beautiful verses, why. [/end rant]

Allahi Allah kiya karo
Always keep on taking God's name

Dukh na kisi ko diya karo
Never hurt anyone

Jo dunya ka maalik hai
The one who's the king of the world(s)...

Naam usi ka liya karo
...keep on taking his name


ab chehray pey Jhoot sajaa kay mith thi hai sachayee
sach rah pe chala kara karo
dukh na kissi ko diya karo
jo dunya ka maalik hai
naam usi ka liya karo

sheesha toot kay jorr sakta hai
dil na jurray aghar tootay

“Say Allah Allah/ Don’t hurt another/He’s the Lord of the World/Say His name over & over”

“Those who make ornaments of lies/erase truth/Those who lie/encounter hardship”

“Walk the ways of truth/don’t hurt another/Say the name of the One/Lord of the World”

“Broken mirrors can be mended/Broken hearts cannot/[Undecipherable verse]/When love’s trust is broken/Don’t be cruel/Don’t hurt another/Say the name of the One/Lord of the World”

Becoming the People

And where are the words today
What is the path they tread
Syllables that deem something
words that mean something
poets & scholars who had cling and a sting
and a name to pull the rest within
not just a path of words
that sound good together
but mean nothing apart
Just slang and bitter words
No wisdom against the swords
Not a beat to fill the veins
That pump the essence into the core of the heart
It just stains and stains and stains the heart black
"Yo if you ain't from my hood, you aint gonna know jack"
Racism & prejudice emitting from these verses
The hate, the anger racing from the eyes to the brain to the heart
becoming the people

7/9/08

The Game

Its kinda like blasphemy
The path your walking the talk your talking
Contradicting every syllable slipping
Kinda like a theif beneath the glare of the sun
caught red handed
Crawling beneath the caves to find some shade
a hiding place
to leave no trace
when you think to chase away a man's humility
in this realtionship of love and hate
without a beat a decision so haste
Cuz when you think to chase away a man's humility
You behead him
You amputate his hands
You stone him
living your own denotation
Can't substitute it with a connotation
Demeaning the value of sacred laws
Screeeching on the walls with these thick claws
But you behead him
You amputate his hands
You stone him
when you think to chase away a man's humility
And in this breeze
In which you breathe
In which you live
In the game to win
This game has players, viewers, and those who don't even know the rules
But they nod
They nod in agreement to the game
To stick in and not out
To drink to every slam dunk, touch down and goal
Because if they were to tell
The truth would unfold
End this legacy of lies
Of false faces and false gazes
Disturbed intentions and foul actions
Cuz it's kinda like blasphemy
Kinda like a thief beneath the shadow of the stars
caught red handed
Crimes even behind steel bars

7/9/08

Lunch: Chicken Fajita & Mashed Potatoes

as-salaamu 'alaykum

I'm kinda sorta enjoying myself lol. Had a friend over today for a late lunch.



Chicken Fajita (the filling)


Mashed Potatoes w/ Sour Cream


The meal (for my sister when she came home from work.)


The Drink. Banana Shake (with a dash of cinnamon)

Today I proved myself wrong. Alhumdulillah. :D I'm not completely useless in the kitchen, and I honestly thought I would be. Insha'Allah this keeps up.

wa as-salaamu 'alaykum

(Writing: Almost done! *excited* I was up past 2 am working on it)

Bhindi

as-salaamu 'alaykum

didn't mess up this time since my mom was in the kitchen with me. alhumdulillah :D



As far as writing... alhumdulillah, finally some work in progress. I'm liking it. Insha'Allah let's see how it goes.

It's my "time"

as-salaamu 'alaykum

I haven't been enjoying summer vacation, cuz I don't have "summer vacation" This is life now and I gotta live it properly cuz this is how I'm going to continue on my life. If I'm a bum now, I'll be a bum the rest of my days. Alhumdulillah I've been enjoying 'life' by being productive.

As soon as school was out... I was told I had to learn.... to cook
(It was my "time" I was in THE training" bahahahaha.).

My sis started learning when she was 9 or something close to that. Up 'til now I've been doing the small easy stuff y'know... like make the chutney, raita, salad, mac 'n cheese, deserts (cakes, trifles, mango mousse), boiled rice, egg... that kinda stuff.

I used to beg to learn before... cuz no one cared to teach me. The focus was on the older one. They had to give in sometime. I stopped asking after a while... now I'm being TOLD to cook. It works.

See, it worked out pretty well... she was the whizz with the spatula and I was the whizz with the broom. But anyways...

Alhumdulillah I'm having an amazing time with all this I've been doing these days. I'm really enjoying it. Insha'Allah the rest of my days continue on like this... productive.

Tadaa... Masoor ki Dhaal w/ Boiled Rice



(Yes, it wasn't purrrfect. There was too much imlii (good thing i love imli cuz the taste rocked) & the daal was too dry and "galaa nahi tha" so when my mom came home she helped me fix it and then I gave it baghaar and it was ready to serve)

My sister came home from work.. made her way to the kitchen
"*insert nickname*.. you made Dhaal?... since when is daal so dry?"
in my mind: "since it saw your face" I'm not mean. (It's called 'sisterly love') :D

wa as-salaamu 'alaykum

Sense of Fate

But where is the sense
In holding out on fate
When fate determines
And hence it is the immense
Moments flooding through the distance
Because fate cannot create
It can only tell
From the cell which is now my abode
The bricks on the walls and the ashes on the ground
Will you only learn to accept
Fate doesn't hold out, you don't hold out
It happens as it must
And in God we trust.

The Corruption of Innocence

Finals... Indeed... the outcome:

You're my hand made chapatti
Will you be my saathi
To eat with my handi
From the Sabzi ki Mandi
You're a cool larki
Made from fine matti
From the water in my tanki
I chase you with my dandi
Cuz you look like a turkey
That's very thandi
Even in this garmi
I feel much of the sardi
Cuz you are my saathi
Oh meri haathi
Now I must chalti
Before I go ulti

Kung Fu Fighttinggggggggg...

An Addendum?

It drips
It seeps
Clings to every reef
Every weave and crease
Dominating like a plagued disease


- Still brainstorming in this storm.

Isn't the weather amazing? Subhanallah.
Ya Allah, increase us in these storms of Rahmah. Aameen!

"A day will surely come, and it is also near..."

Ink

To be in the Known

Paralyzed in every bone
Recounting for every grave the dirt owns

To recall what was sown

Into the wounds of every solider

Through the battles of every corner

Synchronizing the dates mentally
Deciphering words logically
Analyzing facts sensibly

Indicating every stroke and wedge

Beneath the pool of ink
Beneath the smudges they sink
Joined by this link
By the sounds they make
And to you I say
They travel for His sake

No trees sacrificed no ink did spill

Even as they leaped from end to end

In minds so deep
Not hollow, but for the treasures they keep
Even as they leap, Even as they leap
Each syllable does seep
From the sands of Arabia to the forests of Indonesia
Accumulating in numbers through the threads sown
Of every shade embroidered in shapes the numbers had grown

Indicating every stroke and wedge

Beneath the pool of ink
Beneath the smudges they sink
Joined by this link
By the sounds they make
And to you I say
They travel for His sake

Four generations down the line
Clinging to what was, denying the decline
Acres of green mowed down to preserve
The purpose it would serve
Ten, Hundred, Thousand pages binded
To revive in fradulent times
An era of certainty where each step was guided

Any prediction could have cautioned the state
From flooding to a sea of sand
The ends of the line, come to no hault
And beneath these grains are jolts of the fault
Rocking every bone granted to man
And to crawl for every step became the condition
To gaze ahead in desperation of some irrigation
Hopes of a well, a spring of satisfaction
Thrusts to the foot upon the earth

Imitating the works of Hajrah and Ismail

A mirage from mile to mile

The fountain bleeding before each sight

Blue and black, just as every pen's right

A spring so full, each flooding jolt

Leaving an imprint upon the grain on which these limbs rested

More, more, never satisfied by the immensity of the springs

Repeatedly trickling, colliding with the earth

The more was said, the more was left

Remaining in this condition of greed

Helplessly sinking into an abyss of sand

Farther it seemed, the earth pulled away stretching

Almost invisible before my view

A condition of fatality in severity

Lifeless in this drought, no sign of humanity

Fields of green altered to accommodate these graves

Marking into the soil, in books and minds

The ink will spill, remain upon the lands

More precious than the blood

Flowing from the veins of a martyr

No swords, no bullets

Through every storm and attack

This pen is my weapon, these pages are my shield

Traversing upon this path, I advise you to yeild

May 8th, 20008

Another Day Added to the List

May 9th, 2008

Annual MSA Dinner
Theme: "From the Cradle to the Grave: In the Path of Knowledge"
Keynote Speaker: Imam Johari Abdul Malik
Literally wrote it Wednesday Night,
last minute editing Thursday 2 am!
Practiced friday, "If it's this awful while
performing infront of myself, what am I
gonna do up THERE?!"
Alhumdulillah it went awesomely well
Better than I anticipated!
I was told Imam Johari's facial reaction
indicated he was "blown away" ?
The girls had me explain stanza by stanza
and I showed them "observing destination"
Alhumdulillah it was awesome. Good times.
Performed during Dinner, finale.
Ink

*Remember the poem recitation in english? (on thursday)

Request to perform on 27th at another HS. Donno what to say.
Familia says to do it.

How does a 'No' turn into a 'Yes' ?

MIST 2006:

Fell asleep prior.
1st recital.
1st "exposure"
Wrong poem.
Illusions

*photography 4th
*Nasheed 3rd

MIST 2007

Better, much better.
MY way this time.
2nd Place (Alhumdulillah)
Reminiscent Journey

*Graphic 5th


October 17th, 2007 :

Eid-ul-Fitr Event
AHS MSA - Clausen Hall
Needed to kill time.
They didn't care, though miraculously...
the brothers shut up. Yaay.
First mixed event performance.
Reminiscent Journey
He'll Reach

February 29th - March 2nd:

MIST 2008.
Annoyed the life out of everyone with editing
and practicing. Everyone was awesome with their feedback.
Compliments from the sis on performance in the car on 29th.
Personally, I thought my performance was off, so were the words.
Brother judge - first round. Plan to unniqaab failed
Sisters (judges) - round two. Mission Accomplished.
Straight faced judge (M). Jovial judge (F) =
judging ballots - COMPLETELY contrary. Very Interesting.
2nd Place (Alhumdulillah)
I Too Have a Dream

April 4th, 2008

Filament Event (Fundraiser)
Coffee House. Finale. Non-Muslim crowd (1st time).
Nervous. Wrist splint.
Performance - could've been better
Gave disclaimer prior to performance lol.
Request by editor-in-chief and sponsor to submit for Filament
Jolts to the Cradle

April 11th, 2008

MSA Event
Islam Awareness Month kick-off Event
"Faith-full Beats" (Aman Ali, Jeb, Hila, Adam, Ebad (drumming) )
Much better (performance). Awkward. Unknowingly/stupidly standing on brother's side,
wisely facing the sister's side.
Stools were occupied with drums - 3 pgs, placing on the ground.
Need new technique.
Disclaimer again.
Jolts to the Cradle

April 22nd, 2008

MSA Event
Islam Awareness Week/Month
"Night of Enlightenment"
Intro: 'To some this may be new, to others this will be plain torture' (lol)
I started laughing mid-way. Front row girls and their gestures mocking
the hand movements that JUST HAPPEN unintentionally.
Good emphasis, definite improvement.
Mom was there!
I too Have a Dream



A's long attempt to persuade me to submit to "Voices for Change" failed. I'm sorry.

'Your diapproval/hesitation is always on my conscience'

On the authority of Abu Muhammad al-Hasan bin Ali bin Abi Taib, the grandson of the Messenger of Allah, sallallahu ëalayhi wasallam, and who is dearest to him, radiyallahu ëanhuma, who said: ìI committed to memory from the Messenger of Allah, sallallahu ëalayhi wasallam, (the following words):

Leave that about which you are in doubt for that about which you are in no doubt.

[Al-Tirmidhi and al-Nasaíi related it, and al-Tirmidhi said: It is a good and genuine Hadith]

Abu Mas'ud 'Uqbah bin 'Amr al-Ansari al-Badri, radiyallahu 'anhu, reported that the Messenger of Allah, sallallahu 'alayhi wasallam, said:

"Among the things that people have found from the words of the previous prophets was: 'If you feel no shame, then do as you wish.'"

[Al-Bukhari]

It is narrated on the authority of Amirul Mu'minin, Abu Hafs 'Umar bin al-Khattab, radiyallahu 'anhu, who said: I heard the Messenger of Allah, sallallahu 'alayhi wasallam, say:

"Actions are (judged) by motives (niyyah), so each man will have what he intended. Thus, he whose migration (hijrah) was to Allah and His Messenger, his migration is to Allah and His Messenger; but he whose migration was for some worldly thing he might gain, or for a wife he might marry, his migration is to that for which he migrated."

[Al-Bukhari & Muslim]

I DON'T KNOW...

I used to be into Photography...

What Have I Been Up To?... Cool Stuff

Attempt #1 at painting "Calligraphy"-like stuffage
I usually work with pen or pencil.

"Navigation" Painting. I sketched. I helped paint too

Alhumdulillah 'Ala Kulli Haal!

M-U-S-L-I-M I'm so blessed to be with them!

Our first, but Insha'Allah certainly not the last.

I will definitely be back eventually to procrastinate more. It happens. Especially when you know you have a deadline the next day. I laugh, I laugh... At myeslf.

Fa'sabrun Jameel

“I don’t really know what to say as we already talk soooo often. All words of encouragement have already been exhausted, yet I still repeat Yaqoob (as)’s words when he truthfully said “Patience is beautiful!”This beauty is beyond the beauty a Man finds in nature, it’s beyond the beauty of a bride on her wedding night; it’s beyond the beauty of our glittering jewelry and it’s beyond the beauty of watching our wealth amass for a ’secure’ future.Why? Because this is beauty that can only be encaptured by the heart. The majority of people can see with their eyes, hear wih their ears and smell with their noses. But Allah swt only hand-picks a few of His slaves to envision and perceive through their hearts. So be of those slaves. Steer your heart towards bliss by using it to guide you, by using it as your sense of perception, and by completely engulfing it in hope of Allah’s Mercy.

Have complete Yaqeen that Allah does not wrong His slaves. Every moment will be recompensed and the TRUE Beauty, the REAL Beauty, the ABSOLUTE Beauty which currently only resides as a sensation of the heart, will one day be actualized through sight, sound, smell & feel in their absolute PERFECT form inshallah.”

http://maverick007.wordpress.com/2007/11/04/fasabrun-jameel/

Maryam's Sonnet

Topic: Umar bin Khattab (ra)

Sonnet

And they speak of the fierce companion.
His strong will and persistence for the truth.
Not a character of words, but action.
His life instilled in the hearts of the youth
Quick to his feet, quicker to his weapon
His anger bested him many a time
Angered by the message, he refused to listen
Believing in the message was a crime
But soon he was to commit that felony,
Changed his life to good with good intention.
More peaceful now, than what he used to be.
More hesitant to violent action.
Discrepancy between the entities,
With you, he himself will surely agree.

Maryam - April 2008

Br. Musa's Poetry

Iraqi Dream: Creating a Martyr

I was reading the news the other day,
5 so called militants, that’s what they say, Mohammed, Aziz, Deen, Mukhtar, Khateeb,
All born in the city of Baghdad, never got to fulfill their dreams

When the war came to their homes,
They tried to be far away from the combat zone
But the fighting welcomed itself like a lightening strike

America stepped in, a bit to close to the light
One-by-one, their neighborhoods became a ghost town,
One day ruined it all from sunrise till the sun went down

And a missile strike, struck the ground,
There laid 15 dead civilians, complimented by a booming sound

And what they saw could not be erased,
No psychologist could possibly fix what those kids had faced

And for 5 years, they’ve woken up by the same nightmares,
The fact that innocent people are being killed, yet no one cares

Children, men and women, bombs do not discriminate,
But for sure, they determine one’s fate

And after so much pain, and so much death,
Mohammed, Aziz, Deen, Mukhtar and Khateeb,
Decided to stand up against the war’s greed

Strapped a bomb to their chest, and decided to face their death,
Said they’re ready, and went in with success
A few more Iraqi martyrs, demonized by the military and the press
A few souls that never got to live, never got to breathe, never got to see What life’s got to offer,
never got what I got, never got what you got, never got what they need…
Never met me, never met you, never got to do the luxurious things we do
Never had equality, Never had peace, Never fulfilled a dream

I was reading the news the other day,
5 so called militants, that’s what they say, Mohammed, Aziz, Deen, Mukhtar, Khateeb,
All born in the city of Baghdad, the past was their nightmare, revenge was their dream
As they marched towards collective suicide after seeing the things that they've seen

- Br. Musa



An unknown face: 60 years of Nakba


I was born under occupation,
Strived and died for liberation

Wanted my land back, and fought for it,
Now I’m living in eternal bliss

After so much death and persecution,
I carried out the operation

Those people killed my mother and father,
And now they are slowly killing off more of our brothers

A refugee camp is no place for a child,
Where settlers and IDF let their guns go wild

It’s all I’ve seen, and it’s all I’ve known,
We’re struggling, while they are safe in their homes

Well, my ancestors lived here, and it is our land,
So I carried out a suicide mission to impose my demands

But today I met a girl, sitting upon a cloud,
Said she was there, and saw me empty those rounds

She was nicer than I thought an Israeli could be,
In fact, she was a bit like me

I was nervous, never met one before
And here I am, with a girl who saw me shoot and be killed on Haifa’s beach shore,

Had a smile on her face, looked my age,
Said she has nothing against me, I brought her to this wonderful place

- Br. Musa

Tulips

What's not to love?
I saw tulips at BJ's and they made me smile.

SubhanAllah.

Thump. Thump. Thump.
The beats of a drum
Silencing the songs of the night
The rising of the sun
Granting direction to a lonely kite
Swaying from east to the west
Only to fall
Entangled in a web of colors
A canvas flooding with colors
Petals jutting forth with might
A short lived existence
Gleaming eyes, blooming hearts
The birth of life
Twitching lips, a restless tongue
Uttering praise at the sight of grace
Tomorrow will be seen
Withered leaves, ashes... ashes
Colors burnt to the ground
Upon my resting place, resting without a sound
Ashes of green, there upon rests my head
In only a moment, I'll be pronounced dead


*Not my photographs

Name Me.

This is the piece I'll be performing on Friday Insha'Allah. Don't you just love it when people volunteer you for performing. Insha'Allah all goes well. I still don't have a name for it though. Any ideas? If you've ever wanted to give me brutal feedback and butcher my work, this would be a perfect time. I need this to be good, it's for a majority non-muslim audience (hence, should be dawah worthy)

And if the Arabic within it is grammatically incorrect let me know please.
Inspiration: Juvie (the play - Haha. Don't ask. I have yet to come across someone who understands why.)

Dispersed bonds concurrent with the words of man

Layered with soil over the abode of clans

In the soil spread across the withered terrain

Back in time to when infants were slain

Kings of ignorance reigned the existence of man

Until the word came, when one could stand

From the west of the Sahara to the east of the hills

Water freezing with the ignition of ills

Jolting of trees representing the well - versed

Ink gushing from fingers, frantically immersed

From the wheat fields and the blue oceans

Earth worms, satisfying their thirst

Ancient novels, becoming systematic notions

From the devil’s apprentice to the sorcerer’s spell

Upon the earth, in their nature to dwell

Intoxications flooding the deep end

Swords reflecting upon the ripples of the sea

Boots with the grime caked upon the sole

The sweet scent of rotting corpses

Rising above the fold

Coated with the ashes of burning coal

Frosted with powdered sugar

Greased with the oil of greed

Dripping from beneath every horseback carriage

Gutted men with arms lined in rows

Water falls, fire rolls, walls breaks, blood flows

Pebbles fighting bow and arrows

A broken record gone to waste

Split in half in times of haste

The echoes, mazes of phrases

The repetition, alliteration

Realization, inclination

Nuhibbu Falasteen… Nuhibbul Muslimeen

Nahnu Insaan, Khalqul Alameen

Salaam, Salaam… Nahnu Nureedus Salaam

The mural; the graffitied blocks

No spray paint or the dust of chalks

Blowing in the air, in a breath to live

A cleaved vein in this path to give

Painted murals, sculptures to depict

Decorated with rhinestones and the fabric to inflict

The mark of beauty in the soil of the sea

Shackled in cuffs crawling to life past what confines

No boundaries, destruction to the highest degree

Hearts of faith, swallowing each breath gently

Elevated with virtues of men

Humbled before the lowest of shadows

The shadow of words from the sway of palm trees

Birthmarks on the land of fathers

Man; he is, in existence of this world he too lives

At home; in walls of bricks

Bars on windows, chains on doors

Shackled from the wrist to the feet

Merely a meter in distance from this street

With the shadows of the words

A key to the unhampered realms, scriptures

depicting the times of the arc and the herds

to the miracles of the staph and the birds

The lasting image of the moon and the stars

Prostrating before such a blessing misheard

In a time distant from the now

Similar in the persecution we allow

Upon the intrinsic grains of the soil below

Alien to wings spread free

Jolts to the cradle; pulsate inhabitance of the grave

In deep slumber in autonomous dreams

As the soul slips into a comma bliss

In the bare view of the sand

The roots of the trees beyond the seas

Awakening to life as a detainee

Cat and Mouse Chase

The awesomeness of Manahil wrote this... I love it masha'Allah... she wrote it last July:

and my eyes cry dust for they can leak no more...

and my feet bleed rust because so little are they used for

my hands cry wolf when I use them for all the wrong reasons

minute after day after month after season

my ears hear nothing but a screaming silence

my nose smells nothing but the reek of violence

my mind knows so little for what to prep

my heart beats less with every step

where did I go wrong in my lessons of guidance?

the foundation on which I built my life in subsidence

my body, immobile as I leap to the ground

and the stillness echoes with the lack of sound

I try and I reach but there is just no connection

my mind screaming mutely that it’s the wrong direction

seven orbs of light and I’m left in a blank zone

Horrible memories flooding as bone grinds against bone

My mind is warped and I flail blindly and see

Giving submission requires no fee

My soul so lost I almost shed a forbidden tear

And the feet rust shut prevent me running from fear

My hand in position as I raised them up high

My ears strain for sound as I try and try

My nose blocking off the stink of aggression

As I begged and I begged for immediate lack of this regression

My mind nearly cleared and I prayed harder and harder

My intentions reaching up farther and farther

My heart kicked into gear as my soul found its place

And I fell, exhausted at this cat and mouse chase

MIST 08 pt. 2

Pt 2. Nasheed + Friday Activity Improv + Aweesomeness

Pt. 3 Coming soooon.... Insha'Allah

As-Salaamu 'Alaykum

Okay so, I'm doin my MIST update in Installments so my posts don't turn into long winded essays and so I can do them as time allows insha'Allah.

So friday was an adventure on its own (Feb 29th) I'll expand further on it when I do my whole MIST recap in a later post or something. But any ways... so they had teams come together in the atrium and do an activity. They gave us a puzzle piece with a scenario written on it and we had to do an improv with a solution to the situation.

Here was ours: "You and your team have worked hard studying for bowl (Hahaha) this year, but your arch (in competition), Asiya and her team wins 1st place. The entire team, walking back from receiving their trophy, rub the trophy in your team's face remarking on your 2nd place trophy. What is the best way to approach the situation?"

I'm laughing (1) thinking back to Scholastic Bowl and the hilarious fun that it was... with our sarcastic remarks and answers. Good Times. (2) We were the only team that did a 'rap' as all the other teams did skits and most of the topics were about Facebook.

Okay, so this is also very ironic because... in the nasheed we wrote, there's a character in it by the name of "Asiya" so when we read this we couldn't help but laugh and make a connection in the rap to our nasheed. We told the audience ofcourse of how ironic this was. It's pretty hilarious, the vids on facebook are proof. I wrote the first line and the rest of the team was sitting there the WHOLE time thinking what rhymes with "nasheed" so in the vid they're just listing words and then you see me writing and writing and writing and by the time they were done guessing words and gave up, I finished this sad sad piece. Perhaps it's not bad for the time constraints, but it's one sad piece. lol

Who knew she'd pop out of our nasheed
To skip to the lead
Defeat us and take away our victory
They showed it off, to make us drool
They didn't realize, we follow the words of our Rasool (saw)
The best way to approach their win
With a pat on the shoulder and a handshake
Said "Masha'Allah" [everyone on the team said it together], saved ourselves from the sin

The performance was just as sad lol. It was my nasheed buddy and I that performed it and then the rest of the girls just yelled the 'masha'Allah' part. There were brothers and there was a mic. You do the math. If you know me well enough you can do the math.

Also... Here's our nasheed:

Some of it was rapped, some of it was sung.. there was humming in the beginning. I loved our nasheed this year even if it didn't make it. We kinda messed up during judging, or rather I did. But it's all good Alhumdulillah... we had a good time. Writing it was a joint effort, two minds work better than one. Bit of a background: We wanted to connect it to the theme with a real life occurrence and we sort of exaggerated it. This past summer I was acquainted with a sister who converted and through our conversations the most disheartening of them was when she told me the reaction she received from the Muslim communities. People would look at her weird, throw out weird remarks and say stuff like "you're not one of us" and in other similar situations I've heard of sisters not being accepted into their communities. This in itself is a huge division and huge problem if we're not accepting toward people of all cultures and races because seriously Islam is a unifying factor no matter where you come from or the color of your skin. Also similarly to my poem, you can't judge someone from their past. Allah (Swt) guides whom He wills.

Seek the True Image

Diversity within unity

This unity this society

This community

Out only hope it is... this Unity

Chorus:

Our mission in life is to strive and survive

Our mission in life is to be one and unite

If one falls down, we all weaken as one

Yeah, Yeah...

You need all the pieces to see this image clear

The pieces together in order to adhere

Immutable to the prophetic revelation

Our way to the ultimate destination

Through our heartfelt declaration

Every race, every color, as the pieces of a puzzle

Seek the true image and defeat the struggle

(Chorus)

I saw a sister the other day she bleeding

Bleeding, with tears, it scares

To know our sister's hurting,

The ummah should be aching

I went on by to inquire her pain

It truly was no gain

Brenda was her name which she had before

Asiya was the name she kept at the door

Engulfed in her arms, close to her heart

She accepted her fate and this was the start

Of the story she began to tell

Brenda is my name and I went through so much pain

The pain of being a child who never experienced love

The pain of being uninformed of the power above

My life is far from a fairytale or a cute little story

The struggles from within forced me to give up

Give up on life, but WAIT! That’s not the end of my story

As I was fading away to the dark I lost all hope

I was brainwashed by the street life of prostitution and dope

This is all before I converted to the greatness

A religion known as Islam where no one is left faithless

I changed my religion and with that came a new name

Asiya was engraved in my heart

A woman who chose to depart

Declaring her faith for her new start

A woman of faith who touched my soul deep

And with her story, I began to weep

Differences within coming out to begin

They never thought I could be one of them

I came to prove, that I survived

Even from the snake's venom, my faith thrived

I am a witness

A witness to the stares

They were unfair

No color or past

Should justify the doubt

Carrying the commands

Up above her head

Chinese, Arab, African, Asian, and American

No race makes you who you are

Your faith is in your heart

Look at that instead

And maybe you can comprehend

From 1400 years before

When it was first read

A kinship through hearts

Bloods connected by those words

Carrying us above

Weightless as the flight of the birds

(Chorus)

Hum Ek Hai (Urdu - we are one), We come together as One

Muga tul sura yauw yu (Pashto - we are one), Mother, father, and son

Nahnu Ahhad (Arabic - we are one), Spreading the message with the language of diversity

We Are One. Shoulder to shoulder no traces of disunity

We are one. Through ever calamity

Shoulder to shoulder, no traces of disunity