Do You Want To Hear A Poem?

That’s a rhetorical question by the way before all of you start saying yes, because I can’t write poetry for toffee.

I mean, sure, I like to mess about with fun poetry along the lines of “Roses are red, violets are blue, I don’t have a clue what to add as a third line, and you probably don’t too” but that isn’t real poetry is it?

Poetry is an art. When done incorrectly, it attracts the wrath of Allah and His Messenger due to its content, or to the time it wastes, or if it is accompanied with illicit actions or musical genres associated with evil etc.

But when done correctly, it is sweet honey.

Poetry can be an appreciation of the Divine. That can lead to acts of worship and an increase in our love for worship and an increase in our love for the One that we worship. There is no greater accolade than that.

Poetry can be an appreciation of the creation of the Divine. This can lead to acts of love and an increase in our love for love and an increase in our love for the one that we love. There is no greater appreciation than this from the loved one.

Poetry can be the transmission of knowledge. It teaches in a way where sometimes prose has struggled. The poet can often say what the scholar struggles to. And if we find a scholar-poet then he is the king of all.

Poetry can be the refutation that other responses just cannot reach. It can be the clarification, the commentary and it can be knowledge itself.

Poetry is a skill. Poetry is a weapon. Poetry is peace. Poetry is war.

Do you really appreciate the art of poetry? Or like me, do you appreciate it more because of the very fact that we have so little of it today?

The classic times have gone. For poetry to survive today means it has to be of exceptional quality and purity. The competition is big, and the competition is often nasty. Rap is poetry’s naughty little brother. Rhythmic pop songs are poetry’s evil dictator uncle.

Muslims need in our times more quality poetry from top quality poets who don’t sell out their style, values and most importantly, Islamic ethics.

I crave poetry and so should you. It is the revival of art, the revival of knowledge, and the revival of ideas. And if there’s anything Muslims must aim for in such miserable times, then it is the revival of art, knowledge and ideas!

Steve Coleman famously once said:

I want to hear a poem where ideas kiss similes so deeply that metaphors get jealous, where the subject matters so much that adjectives start holding pro-noun rallies at city hall.

I want to hear a poem, I want to feel a poem, I want to taste a poem. Give me your spot on the mike if you want to waste a poem.

Uff, what a shot.

I just want to second Steve. And so, I would love to hear some short impactive poetry on any subject you like posted in the comments below. The best one, gets a prize. Don’t ask about what the prize is because we are poets here and poets don’t ask about prizes. They ask, “Did you read my poem?”

Yalla. Give me what you got.


  •' farha says:

    Let your pain reveal it secrets.

  •' farha says:

    Let your pain reveal its secrets.

  •' Faryal says:

    Assalamoalaikum, so here’s something I wrote some time back

    Lesson well learned

    There were two fish,
    With big noses.
    They were quite passionate,
    About smelling roses.

    Travel, they did
    Around the world,
    Finding gardens of roses,
    With happiness they twirled.

    So many roses,
    Their eyes couldn’t believe.
    They sat there for ages,
    For they just couldn’t leave.

    Pink, white, yellow and red,
    Oh how splendid they found it all.
    Petals, thorns, leaves and stems,
    Siren-ish was the roses’ call.

    They sat and smelled,
    Breathe, they could not,
    Air was like poison,
    But they loved the roses a lot.

    The pull of the roses,
    To them was like magic.
    They remained there till they died,
    The whole episode was tragic.

    For blinded by their love,
    They did not realize,
    What pleased them greatly,
    Caused them their demise.

  •' saman fatima says:

    Is shayari counted???
    This is one of my all time favourites-

    ‘Jahan me ahl-e-eeman surat-e-khursheed jeete hain,
    Idhar doobe, udhar nikle, udhar doobe, idhar nikle.’

  •' A says:

    In search of a soul,
    For my imaan to rise…
    As the heart finds rest,
    In daily prayers of five…
    In the depth of darkness,
    Whilst He’s in the lowest of skies…
    I seek, I ask, I beg, I cry…
    This test chosen for me,
    I bear as days go by…
    Yet here I wait patiently,
    … for my eternal tie <3

  •' Amira says:

    It’s nights like these ,
    When I feel as fruitless as seedless trees
    That I rest my wobbly knees
    On the mat I use to pray

    Wishing a change would overcome my colorless spirit,
    My soul continues to stray
    As I make a sincere Dua and I sign my invisible lease
    Trying to put the pedal to the medal
    But my heart does not rest in peace

    My goals pierce the heart like a mother’s cry
    My mother makes countless Duas in hopes that I survive
    This demented fantasy
    Wish I could splash cold water on my soul
    But a soul with a barren vessel has nowhere to go
    So where do I go?

  •' Sohaib says:

    When the night has come
    And the land is dark
    And the moon is the only light we’ll see
    No I won’t be afraid
    Oh, I won’t be afraid
    Just as long as you stand, stand by me

    Ben E. King

  •' Thahira hussain says:

    I wrote this for an interfaith conference:

    Mary our mother
    The devoted worshipper
    Who unlocked the secrets of this world
    The one who bowed in prayer

    Mary the one who supplicated
    And God provided
    The obtainer of fruits

    Mary the one who shook the palm tree
    In a time her body was weak
    but her faith was unshakeable

    Mary the golden jewel
    The reason for drawing straws
    protected by the chiefs of the church

    Mary the inspiration behind zacharia’s prayer
    The one given to the path of God
    The pride and joy of her parents

    Mary the one who faced slander
    The one who God revealed her innocence
    through miraculous speech
    Mary the mother of Jesus.

    Mary the one chosen by God
    Out of all of womankind
    Mary our leader
    Mary our mother.

    If we choose to look
    Through the eyes of difference
    We shall find that we are world’s apart

    And if we choose to look
    Through the eyes of familiarity
    We shall find that we are family
    Brothers and sisters
    Children of Mary.

  •' Thahira hussain says:

    This is a song I wrote called ‘Madinah’

    I’m standing in the middle of a dusty street
    I look down at my feet
    Is this where we meet?
    Cos once upon a time maybe
    you stood right here.

    I look around and I see the traffic moving
    People crossing the streets but I hear nothing but peace
    It’s piercing through me

    There’s something about this place


    Cos I can see the sun shining extra rays
    That I’ve never seen in any other place
    And I can see the rain stop and hesitate
    To wash away the scent that you left here
    And I can see the red tinted mountains
    Protecting every corner that you lived in
    And I can see the rocks prostrating
    Ever grateful for your presence

    I close my eyes and I walk through the streets
    As though your here
    It’s question time for the ladies at the mosque
    And your answering
    The Date palm tree that you rest on is weeping
    The sounds of the adhan are loud are fading
    Every street shaded by the wings of the angels

    There’s something about this place


    Cos I can see the sun shining extra rays
    That I’ve never seen in any other place
    And I can see the rain stop and hesitate
    To wash away the scent you left here
    And I can see the red tinted mountains
    Holding onto the colour that you gave them
    And I can see the rocks prostrating
    Ever grateful for your presence

    And what if I bumped into you
    For a second or two
    What would that be like
    Would you look with familiar eyes
    Saying I recognise
    Your the girl from Fridays
    Who sent your prayers always
    Never failed to make me smile
    your name’s on my mind
    Or would you say my darling
    I expected more from you.

    And there I am at your golden gates
    The distance of an arm length separates
    This could be the closest I’ll ever stand next to you

    Distractions from my mind now have run away
    Is this what it was like for them everyday
    I feel like all my life I’ve been missing you

    Heart can you beat a little slower
    Breath can you fall a little deeper
    tears can you land a little softer
    Eyes hold on tightly to this picture
    Lips send your prayers a little faster
    room can you spin a little shorter
    Soul can you be a little stronger
    Time can you stretch a little longer

    Now I know why rain stops to hesitate
    I never want to move from this blessed place
    My mother calls me
    I tell her I’ve never felt like this
    I’m finally home.

    •' anonymous sis says:

      Wow masha allah, sis. Your poem made me cry! I can’t say the other brothers and sisters didn’t write good poems too, but your one is about someone who is dear to us all – so I think we will all feel like we relate to this one! Yes there are a couple of minor grammatical errors here and there, but the feelings in here are deep and absolutely moved me!

  •' Omar says:

    Honestly, this reads like a poem! Poetry has certainly changed.. without close-nit communities the poet becomes a loner instead of the pride of his people.. if you want good poetry, you must make friends with a good poet, I’d say 😉

    I wrote this last eid, much less abstract than my usual stuff.. but there’s a link to my site if you’re feeling adventurous…


    mothers fathers brothers sisters friends we are
    like the fruits of eden’s gardens fresh
    springing forth from our loins and hearts,
    the riches of our days and nights,
    the apples of our eyes so sweet to the lips and touch,
    young and pink and green and brown and ripe—
    may we fall from the outstretched branches of our parents gentle
    and kiss the earth beneath their feet
    with a wisdom from their heights,
    lay beneath their shade
    and write their stories on our breaths with the ink of the sun

  •' Samay Ahadi says:


    Here’s a poem by a brother name Abu Khataab, I don’t know where he is, i found this on a forum.

    The Green Bird

    A taste so sweet I cannot bare to resist it,
    A smell so great I cannot help but inhale.
    A feeling so soft; such a marvellous texture,
    A bright light shines as again I exhale.

    Silence swarms me even though there’s chaos,
    Such a violent picture yet such subtle emotions.
    Red liquid pouring but I can’t feel the pain,
    This is when I realise that I made the right devotions.

    Green birds floating in the sky above,
    I fall in and out of slumber but I’m not asleep.
    Laughter whispering in my ears as I rest,
    As I see some women floating down to me.

    “We’ve been waiting for this moment for a longtime,”
    What are they talking about? Have they lost their minds?
    “O man that was denied his Queen in the world,
    Take us instead for we come in all kinds.”

    One strokes my beard with her soft glowing fingers,
    She raises my head and gives me a kiss.
    I begin to realise that these are my maidens,
    Sent down from Him for my eternal bliss.

    Struggling to breathe I still manage a smile,
    As I see more light coming down to surround me.
    Everything still silent as something penetrates my heart,
    I begin to shake as I see more bleeding.

    I sense some people running down towards me,
    Their voices blurred by the sweet sound of my maidens.
    I see them now standing on top of my body,
    Crying and shocked as my sight slowly darkens.

    Breathing ceases but my smile remains,
    Eyes locked onto the sky above me.
    I feel a slither coming out from my body,
    Indeed a nice feeling but now I no longer see.

    I’m but a soul now travelling high in the sky,
    Away from this world and past the stars.
    I’m now on my way to meet my Lord,
    My heart at ease; no longer baring scars.

    A life of hardship comes to a beautiful end,
    All those against me no longer matter to me.
    A place among my brothers is what I’ve earned,
    In a place of bliss, a place no eye could see.

    My mother, my rose, my only true love,
    I wish I can be there to wipe away your tears.
    But your sadness wastes you as I am still alive,
    Alive with my Lord where I have no fears.

    Be happy for me for one day we’ll meet again,
    Where I shall come running to kiss your hand once more.
    I’ll show you the status that I’ve achieved with the All-Mighty,
    So cheer up my mother, my inspiring mentor.

    Such a time I had in a world of torment,
    Facing stares and humiliation and denied my right.
    One thing kept me patient and that is what I am now,
    A Green Bird of Paradise venturing into flight.

    (Written by Ahmad Abu Khattab)

  •' Mil says:

    Your imperfect perfections are perfect imperfections

  •' A.H says:

    I’ve always wanted to be a poet
    So tell me,
    Can poetry be found in the way I put my forehead to the ground, prostrating to my Lord
    Or how about in my hands raised to the heavens,
    In my tears streaming down my face
    “Rabbi, Rabbi”
    My poem may only consist of one word
    But it has the power to change the heart of you and I

  •' Basima says:

    Once on the fourteenth of Rajab
    When the moon cast her Noor high and wide
    I stepped out and embraced the night.
    Oh what tumultuous thoughts!
    Oh such a cascade of emotions!
    If feelings ever moved a thing
    It was now, now, now.
    Caught in an invisible whirlpool, I stand.
    Yet the sand beneath me didn’t give way
    And the sky above only thickened.
    What it means to love You
    With a heart perfected by You and only You,
    What it means to burn in desire
    Longing for Your Sublime Countenance,
    No man can ever fathom
    No poetry can ever convey.
    And I sing that song echoed by the date palms of Basra,
    You are my Mihrab
    Towards You is my Qibla.

  • EclecticMuslimah says:

    Swept beneath the leaves
    Are stories of greens turned brown
    And red hearts turned black

    ‪#‎haiku‬ ‪#‎ahchoo‬ ‪#‎blessyou

  • EclecticMuslimah says:

    Oh willow,
    your trunk holds firm
    yet from that mighty trunk
    form bending branches
    the further I climb the more perilous.
    So I sit neath your shade
    Watching your leaves billowing in the wind
    submitting to the guidance it gives you
    as if to nod, yes, I need to go this way
    brush my cheek, like a finger caressing
    telling me to hope
    All alone, my weight against your trunk, yet I am not alone
    Your branches, although they may not carry my burdens
    could easily wash them away if I submitted too
    If I gave in to my Lord and let him guide me without resistance
    without hurt for the trials, without questioning the wisdom
    If I forgave with the readiness that you do, the branches that the wind breaks
    It knew they were weak and removed them
    You did not lament.
    Maybe one day, I won’t.
    Maybe one day, I will bend at will and I will not break
    Maybe I will be somebodies trunk and somebodies shade
    and the whisper of hope in their ear.
    For now, I rest heavily against you
    and pray that your strength seeps through.

  •' ummeasadullah says:

    Woods are lovely dark and deep. But i have promises to keep. And miles ti go before i sleep. And miles to go before i sleep. By robert frost

  • Verse 1:
    I used to be like this…

    Never wished for a path so bliss

    A sweet kiss from the devil’s like a slit to the wrist

    But don’t trip

    Even if your down in the slump

    Tied up in the back of the trunk

    He will save you just get ready to run

    Grab your four-five

    not a suprise

    Homicide is on a rise

    Don’t get set up son

    Watch the Sun set

    Getting fed up from this mess

    Reckless test

    Divine intervention

    Did I not mention

    The best things

    In life, don’t come twice

    So keep your head up and fight

    Verse 2:

    Even when the sun dont shine

    Your own eyes shining brighter than the moon in the sky

    Now don’t die

    Before your death

    Turn to past tense

    And Commence a sense

    Of belief

    Keep in mind that

    The Malakul Mout

    Will reap your soul

    Regardless of the path that you chose

    Breaking your daily routine

    Like when a pottery fall

    And the scent of your presence will fade

    From the cradle to the dirt to the grave

    What he gave is a test

    Gotta aim for a raise

    Raise your hands up, like when the sun rise

    Confine your shine

    And pray to be a better slave.

  •' anonymous says:

    poem about the prophet Muhammad (Saws)

    What a year was 570 AD
    A person was born, a prophet to be

    Muhammed (ﷺ) that was his name
    People were misguided and that’s when he came

    He would go on to leave all the idols behind
    He is an example to the whole of mankind

    Rabbi-al-Awwal, in it was a day
    He came to this world to show us the way

    He was born in Mecca, the holiest place
    A life full of challenges he was to face

    Abdullah, his father, had by then passed away
    Leaving Amina, his mother, in her arms he lay

    Halima Sadia took over his care
    Until he was six, our prophet was there

    His mother then died, he was left all alone
    Abdul Muttalib, his grand-dad then made him his own

    When our prophet was nine, his grandfather died
    Abu Talib, his uncle, became his new guide

    In his 20’s,a merchant Muhammed (ﷺ) became by trade
    Al-Amin (the trustworthy), became his grade

    Khadija (r.a.) aged 40, became his bride
    He was 25, with her by his side

    To the poor, she gave away all her wealth
    A dedicated wife in sickness and health

    360 idols in the Ka’aba, there were at that time
    Our prophet realised that this was a crime

    He would go to mount Hira, leaving behind his wife
    Reflecting and wondering about the meaning of life

    Whilst thinking there in the midst of the night
    He heard a loud voice which filled him with fright

    It was the angel Jibreel (a.s.) who asked him to read
    Our prophet couldn’t and didn’t take heed

    The angel embraced him and then asked him later
    ‘Read, Read in the name of the Creator’

    Who created man from a drop of blood
    Our prophet couldn’t read but at that time he could

    Our prophet rushed to the path straight ahead
    He heard a voice from the heavens which said

    Muhammed (ﷺ) truly you are the messenger of God
    Muhammed (ﷺ) was scared and thought this quite odd

    ‘Praise be to God’ his wife said instead
    ‘I know you’ve been chosen as God’s messenger’ she said

    And thus Khadija (r.a.) became the first woman of Islam
    And over the next 23 years came the revelation, the Quran

    He preached to all people, every creed, every race
    Yet so many hardships he had to face

    There were fears for his life, then the Hijra’h took place
    He entered Medina, by the Almighty’s grace

    He was greeted by the Ansaris who were not like the others
    they treated the Muhajirs like their very own brothers

    Then came the battles, fought face to face
    Then the conquest of Mecca, Muhammed (ﷺ)’s birthplace

    An-Nasr was revealed, it’s message was clear
    Muhammed (saws) knew that his time was near

    Everyone gathered to hear his last speech
    little did they know how far Allah’s message would reach

    Muhammed (ﷺ) gave us the miracle, the Quran
    And now a 1/4 of the world follow Islam

    He is our role-model, the best of mankind
    And has left the Quran and his Sunnah behind

    Read the Quran as much as you can
    The words of Allah (SWT) for the guidance of man

    And follow our prophet’s sunnah, when eating and dressing
    And send him salutations and many a blessing

    He came to mankind to show us the way
    And Insha-Allah, we’ll meet him, we’ll meet him one day.

  •' Umair says:

    Also posted this on your Facebook thread. I wrote it back in 2008 but it still holds.

    “Stronger Than You Think”

    I’ve seen those fearful looks
    As I walk down the street
    Mistrustful of my beard
    Wondering why my trousers don’t touch my feet

    I’ve heard those hateful taunts you say
    When you outnumber me
    Idiocy in groups
    A cliché is all you see

    But here’s the something you don’t know
    The truth you refuse to be told
    I don’t back down out of cowardice
    You can’t look this way without being bold

    I fear Allah, I don’t fear you
    Words and wounds with time will heal
    Allah taught me to fight for Him not me
    And that’s a truth so real

    If I smacked you for the hate you spout
    I’d be doing it for myself, not The One
    He taught me to use words and actions foremost
    And violence only when all else failed and was done

    So you can keep up with the taunts
    And keep repeating the lies
    I see beyond the hatred
    Note the fear in your eyes

    You wonder why I look this way
    And how I can do what I do
    Here’s the thing, though, my friend
    I wonder the same about you

    And here too is the thing that keeps me going
    The thing that keeps me strong
    You thought your words would keep me down
    You failed, my friend, you were wrong

    Allah gave me a strength you never knew I had
    Something I inherited from my mum and from my dad
    Every time you called me “Paki” or “Osama” or “Taliban”
    I became exactly what you feared; I became a stronger man

    Yeah Allah gave me a strength you wouldn’t think I could contain
    Your intolerance is my jihad and my weapon is my brain
    And perhaps you’ll keep pushing me until one day I snap
    But I pray, yes to my Lord I pray, that I’ll avoid your trap

    Because Allah gave me a strength to help me realise
    That there’s more than just hatred and fear beyond those eyes
    Deep down there’s a soul belonging to another person
    So I swallow my arrogance and pride, try to be a stronger man

    Allah gave me a strength you never knew I had
    Something I inherited from my mum and from my dad
    But I have to use it kindly, it’s not something I can abuse
    Because – whether you believe in it or not – I have my soul to lose

  •' Omar Dualeh says:

    Pearls of wisdom, sitting here thinking
    What am I missing, knowledge surely diminishing.
    Yesterday is gone tomorrow might not come.
    Echoes of my youth, time wasted screaming nothing lose.
    Constant battles and hate filled brutes screaming who do we a abuse.
    Mere mortals under a crescent moon filled with intoxicants.
    Hell-bent on causing negative effects to the environment.

  •' Hasnain says:

    أحب الدجاجة
    وفي نفسي حاجة
    فبيضها لذيذة
    ولحمها عزيزة

  •' Hasnain says:

    you avoided me and so i’m gone
    your sugar rush and highs are done
    starbucks and carribou,
    ha, tis the price you pay when you
    audaciously drink lipton too!
    cry for me, no more, you see
    you did this, you all killed me
    pakistani white-milk-tea
    with english biscuits and crappy bree?!
    keep this up and then you’ll see
    no more culture, no more “me”
    it started when you hung the loongies up
    thats when you dumped out my first cup
    followed by an acquittal of gowns and thobes
    and a desire to hang metal on your lobes
    punk rock, rap, country, or easy listening
    each one was another christening
    go ahead, leave the panjabis and salwars at home
    no more east and west, we all are Rome!
    Eid day comes and the focus is my new Tommy,
    what happened to the day being spent with mommy?
    her culture slept, then died, and now your on your own
    don’t cry for me, you leave me alone!

  •' Maaria says:

    “They say
    you are weak.
    they forget;
    you have
    in your blood,
    into your heart,
    through your veins.

    He says
    you give nothing
    he forgets;
    the smile
    you gave him
    he had nothing
    to give you.
    the smile
    had him
    the air,
    the spirit,
    the breath,
    your smile

    You say
    you belong nowhere.
    you forget;
    the salty water
    your cheeks,
    the joy
    going home.
    you are
    a child of the ocean.
    drowning in life.”

    — child of the ocean, Maaria L

  •' Nehal says:

    وهل هناك أجود مما قال الشافعى رحمة الله يزيدك قربا لله وحاجة اليه:
    فلعلك تحلو والحياة مريرة **ولعلك ترضى والأنام غضاب
    ولعل الذى بينى وبينك عامر** وبينى وبين العالمين خراب
    إذا صح منك الود فالكل هين** وكل الذى فوق التراب تراب.

  • Abu Eesa Niamatullah says:

    Ma sha Allah, such an awesome collection of poems both here and on Facebook. So much talent amongst us, it’s amazing. May Allah bless you all.

  •' Mrs Nazeera Mohidin says:

    Assalamualaikum wr wb, I ve been wanting to share this poem for a long time. I wrote it in 2012 . . I wrote this admist much mental and physical pain. And I felt it was Allah’s gift to me. Alhamdulillah

    Ya Allah ! I love You!

    Ya Allah! Why did I leave You?
    Ya Allah! Why did I forget You even for a moment?
    Ya Allah! Why did I not obey You?
    Ya Allah! Why did I not look where I was going?

    Ya Allah! You sent people into my life for a reason,
    I loved, I cared, I got attached.
    I realised then, that these moments are fleeting
    I failed to understand the reason, I failed to understand you
    Ya Allah! my eyes are filled with sadness, my heart is filled with emptiness
    People and objects can only fill my life with hurt
    Whereas You are eternal, only YOUR love can fulfil my heart

    Ya Allah! I long to be free,
    Break away from the shackles that bind me
    I long for Your grace to touch me
    And be bound to the rope You send me.
    Ya Allah! This Duniya imperils me,
    I long to be free from its dangers and withdraw into myself
    Ya Allah! This Duniya distracts me,
    I long to concentrate on You and achieve my higher self

    Ya Allah! I’m struggling and struggling alone
    Helpless I snatch at every straw
    Sometimes I falter and lose my way
    I would not have returned, if not for Your ray.
    Ya Allah! I put on a brave front
    When I’m really so mushy and weak inside
    I drown, I flounder, I swim
    Only with Your help I reach the shore.

    Ya Allah! I was searching for love all my life
    I did not know that You were waiting for me,
    You presented yourself to me when You knew
    I was ready, to return a little of your powerful immense love.
    Ya Allah! You told me that You are closer to me than my Juggler Vein
    So leave me not even for a heartbeat!

    Ya Allah! I’m thankful that You created me special
    But I forget sometimes, for after all I’m only human
    Ya Allah! Punish me not if I have erred
    Envelope me with Your mercy and forgive this slave
    Assuage my heart, heal me and cushion my fall

    Ya Allah! Help me understand You , worship You
    And love you with the love You deserve
    Even if it takes all my life
    Make that the only reason I live
    Ya Allah! Master of the Worlds “Maliqul Quddoos”
    Help me, Be with me, this is my sincere plea.
    Fill my life with your compassion
    I can only say this to You my Lord
    “For you I live and for you I will die” – Ameen

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