Grenfell

The bottle neck is jammed up, and the breath in my throat is choked. When the deaths of innocent people around us are happening somewhere every day. The bile in one's throat is foaming, as tears incessantly flow. The screams and painful groans up on the highest floor; The man who was blindly running over limp bodies past every floor; the mother who was fawning over her four year old she had to from the tenth floor window throw; the father who strapped his lil babe to his back and was pulled away from his bedsheets knotted up together as the only means of escape via this measly makeshift rope; the 24 year old beautiful son who managed to save his mother, carrying her over his back, but his father who had to be left injured behind, and must with the reality of his most-likely death their broken family must now respond to and solemly react; the Syrian refugee brother who made it out safe and had to listen to his younger brother cry until he his last breath had taked; the family of five with two toddlers who made it, but their 6 month old baby sibling remained with daddy and mommy too missing, the snap chat video that had us all shocked as the lady prepared to die and calmly kept chanting to her Maker and said her goodbyes; the hundreds whose stories remain untold, the hundreds whose bodies lie blackened with lungs torn; some 42 people of all ages and genders were found in one room of one flat all dead; the ruthless barbarians and governments around the world, called ISIS Assad Trump or just the token mentally unstable demonic, perhaps just KKK; the selfish and spineless murderers who use guns and bats and vans and parking lots, who bomb mosques and set fire to places of worship or of shopping or where you take kids to buy icecreams; the suicide committing fools who believe in their Devilish Misshapen rules and taint 'Allahu Akbar'; the high on power drone controlling taker of lives in uniform; those who kill about to graduate young ones, and who kill people at concerts, and they kill and rape innocent souls, and some in videos behead, and others get picked up from their homes and at airports before a holiday they were about to go on and instead find themselves incarcerated tortured and bound up in Guantanamo, and hate and anger and bigotry continues to be spewed and Hitler gets reborn and the world isn't even shocked that he is being hailed again, and the Mays Modis Sharifs and the terrorist making machines from the extremists born out of religions of Buddhism, Islam, Christianity, Zionism, put on their masks and shake hands with each other and get pictures taken, and stand with glee shining out of their eyes in front of mysterious globes of tainted light, while innocent people in countries get told they are being barricaded in, and some have to give up their lands and their blood and kin, where countries lose their name, where UN is an acronym that should hang its head in shame, where charities are collected to save people from famine and drought, where malnourished are being born to die, where children are breathing white phosphorus and are questioned about their cries being lies, where fish are dying and eating salmon in becoming unsafe, where Earth's glaciers are drifting and melting while Mars is being eyed and scaled with plans to be cultivated, poachers of lives and the living we are surrounded by, and our only hope lies in beginning to open our own eyes and hearts and start loving and listening and sharing and giving. The bottle neck is jammed up, and the breath in my throat is choked. 

Allahu Musta'an. We ask God for help. 


Inna lillahi wainna ilaihi rajioon.

When Everything Aches

Every part of me feels broken, inside out. Heal all of us who are broken, Ya Allah. Only You Know how. Protect us from all that is evil around us. Only You Know what we need saving from. Ameen Ya Rabb Al Ameen.

Fighting Despair

When I look to the world it brutally crushes my hopes and tells me all about how 'this' isn't possible and 'that' will never happen. Then I remind myself of The Maker of all things and I shout out, ''Ya Lateef! Ya Jabbar! Ya Fattah, iftah alayy! Oh the Most Subtle One, The Compeller, The Opener of all doors and gates, and everything else, please Open up my way! I ask not of the world whose people tell me of all things impossible! I ask You, O Creator of all things, You for Whom nothing is impossible! Please send me that which my heart is too afraid to put into words to ask of You, forever seeking right words and never being able to form them; Please send to me from Your infinite bounties a beautiful patience, contentment, peace, happiness and gratefulness in all forms and things of this life; Please send upon me Your infinite Mercy and Khair; I am your heedless forgetful wanting creation begging You to never Forsake me, and to Fill me up in the places that feel empty and bereft of Your Blessings; Please Hold me close Ya Wudood, The Most Loving, Oh Alllah! Allahumma Ameen.''

Fake, Flaky, or Forgetful?

They speak to you as if they've never spoken to you before. You remember the room, the lighting, the questions, the laughter and everyone else who was present there each time you had met before. They leave you flummoxed. They keep doing it again and gain. You keep smiling through it each time and reintroduce yourself, when spoken to the next time (again). They leave you perplexed. Close the door? Walk away? Stop smiling? Perhaps just decide to be kind. Yes, again.

Families and Celebrations

Some families come together to celebrate while some families forever wait to come together to celebrate. Some families celebrate together. Some families try to forget what isn't right and work on celebrating together. Both families pray. Only Allah swt Knows how to fix what feels not right. May He Heal and Uplift both families. Ameen.

Mediocre

Leela; Where I Paused, Breathed, and Prayed

I sit here tonight, my last night here insha’Allah for the foreseeable future. Tears stream down my face, for it is not just tonight, but every night that I need to be more grateful. It has been ever more heavy on my heart where I feel that I am unable to express my gratitude to my Lord. I have moments of no emotion and thoughts, while I live my now – and my now, when I stop to think about it, is grand and splendid and everything rich. It is my blessing. It is my now. Am I making the most of it? Am I being grateful enough? Have I taken advantage of it as I was meant to? Has it given me peace and contentment? Am I looking deeper into in a now that is not any deeper than I have already reached? Why am I feeling like I am missing something? I ache from a fear that I may be doing something wrong? I deliberately am not. I consciously am trying to do all things right. I pray I am not wasting my grace. I pray I am doing justice with the share that I have been endowed with and blessed with. I am surrounded by splendor and majesty; in spirit and in manifest glory. I am in the middle of it. Every ounce of me, when it just stops and feels, overwhelms itself to tears. Tears seem to have become my expression of happiness, joy, reaction to beauty, sadness, responses to pain, brokenness, and everything else in between. Are tears going to be my salvation as I tread forward onto a shaken path, finding myself again? If nothing else, I pray my eternity will remove all doubt and shower me with a union of unparalleled peace and happiness. I want to be grateful for everything else until then. I pray my fallen grace never fails to get back up and say thanks. I pray my hope never bleeds out. I pray that the overwhelming questions go to sleep and wake up to answers that will stand sturdy, take my hand, and all will be alright. Insha’Allah. Oh Allah, please accept my thanks, for everything. For every moment and thing and person who helps me remember You more. Please bless them. I love You.

I Lived Another Day

Forgiveness of Sins

I wear my sins upon my skin,
as it breaks and peels about me,
This disgrace I accept...
With every wear and tear of my bones,
I wilt within, remembering
the roads of folly and brave naivette
that they chose to walk upon,
Their weakness I accept...
This heart, this soul,
and all the memories
which they begrudgingly encapsulate
I writhe in pain from them being evoked
For in my power their dousing
does not work,
dismembering each segment
of how when and why they surfaced
the mind to its fate surrenders
and the soul that in its myriads
had fornicated,
lies naked and begging to be
wiped clean, be washed,
and be purified of all memories
that come alight when a random
story is being told
and it’s masked glory is
shining like soldered gold...
For a jaded heart and its sordid mess
has no place for promises
that lied and tore
as they unabashedly caressed
the surface clean and left it disgustingly black.
Forever scrubbing...
washing...
scraping...
peeling...
wishing to undo the layers,
of stench and hell
that each memory played
on its beaten mattress
Upon which the soul laid down
and recoiled…
I close my eyes; shut them very tight
And my lips fervently beg.
My soul travels till where
You, my Lord, will allow it go
in its sleep or when awake
and my soul continues
to throw itself upon Your Walls
and burns in hope for your Mercy
That one day this soul of mine
will be freed; totally cleansed
like a new born baby,
and with Your Permission
the heart will beat again.
With Your Permission
it will breathe again.
With Your Permission
the soul will be granted
entry into Your Haven
and will thence never fall again.
Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi rajioon.
To God; Allah, we belong
and to Him is our return.

Tawakkul