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.
Let your pain reveal it secrets.
Let your pain reveal its secrets.
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.
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.’
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
masha Allah its beautiful
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?
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
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.
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
Chorus:
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
Chorus
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.
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!
Thank you for the kind compliment!
Wow! Masha Allah! This is the first time an English Naat touched my heart.. jazakillahu khair sister 🙂
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…
thanks
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
asalamalikum
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)
Your imperfect perfections are perfect imperfections
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
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.
Swept beneath the leaves
Are stories of greens turned brown
And red hearts turned black
#haiku #ahchoo #blessyou
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
أحب الدجاجة
وفي نفسي حاجة
فبيضها لذيذة
ولحمها عزيزة
lol, hadaakallah
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!
https://writeousbum.wordpress.com/2009/05/08/the-chai-response/
“They say
you are weak.
Yet
they forget;
you have
iron
foaming
in your blood,
diving
into your heart,
crashing
through your veins.
He says
you give nothing
but
hate.
Yet
he forgets;
the smile
you gave him
when
he had nothing
to give you.
the smile
that
had him
reeling,
choking,
gasping
for
the air,
the spirit,
the breath,
that
your smile
gave
him.
You say
you belong nowhere.
Yet,
you forget;
the salty water
dripping
down
your cheeks,
are
singing
with
the joy
of
going home.
for
you are
a child of the ocean.
spanning
continents,
bridging
centuries,
uniting
cultures
and
drowning.
drowning.
drowning in life.”
— child of the ocean, Maaria L
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.
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.
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