keeeptalking

October 18, 2017

A story of Great Love

Filed under: Poetry,Religion and society — by Zuhair @ 2:07 am
Tags: , , ,

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There was no existence before You –

Only darkness.

Incomparable, unfathomable,

enveloping, blinding,

selfish, hollow darkness.

Looking back, I see nothing there

but distress and despair.

Until amidst the sorrow,

I began to search, hoping to borrow

from You – a little, just a little –

but You delivered in immenseness.

An unmatchable delivery,

so overwhelming, it astonished me,

clothing me in a flame so rare,

a light too bright for the plain eye to bear

and as I neared You

by a palm,

You came to me by an arm,

reducing the distance in between,

a distance there should never have been.

Oh! How I wished I had found You sooner;

how I wished I had You earlier.

But comfort I find in the faith

that You will forever be

as You have been before,

and You will never abandon me.

So, I pray

to You,

 

The Maker of my fate,

The Creator of my soul.

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August 15, 2015

A few lines of hate

Filed under: Poetry,Society — by Zuhair @ 7:29 pm
Tags: , ,

So great an energy travels through me,

defying you, you vile establishment,

plagued with stereotype,

designed to control, seeking punishment;

greedy to determine right from wrong

yet ignorant of the value of good things,

and oh! How I have yearned for so long

to escape you. Me, you sting.

So great a hope travels through me,

in rebellion against you,

in search of my spirit,

that you so hungrily sought to destroy

through deprivation of love;

through seizure

of happiness

and destruction of adventure.

So great a life possesses me

in my shunning away

of you and your wickedness –

Oh! Every day long owing to this, every day-

against you, you vile creature,

and your hunger for sadness

and your impatience with emotion,

and your allergies to happiness.

And no. The fault is not yours.

It is theirs, those loathsome beasts.

It is they who poison you,

so we blister too.

December 17, 2014

A thought ..

Filed under: Poetry — by Zuhair @ 4:59 pm
Tags:

With little feet,

they sidle slowly …

muttering, stuttering

swiftly

as they go left and right,

chattering as they bite

into the many depths;

the blues, the greens and reds

of life, of living,

of death, of surviving.

Louder and louder they get,

more and more they fret,

older and older they grow,

giving life to more –

dancing to the tune of the mood

from the innocent to the lewd;

and they are of comings

and of goings …

and they cannot be stopped

and they will not be silenced.

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Women in Islam

Amal Ahmed Albaz

Journalist; Poet; Speaker. Superman’s got his cape around his neck; I've got my hijab around my head.

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