The Scarf
By: Nura Alia Hossainzadeh
They stand there with shorts, so short, excessively short,
shorts that so deceptively capture from them all they know
of modesty...
...and I proudly pull my scarf over my hair
They stand there, face lost in a sea of make-up,
make-up that so ruthlessly captures from them all they know
of freedom...
...and I proudly pull my scarf over my hair
They stand there, hair raining with gels, colors -
chemicals that so menacingly capture from them all they know
of purity...
...and I proudly pull my scarf over my hair
They stand there, so close, so very close to their "lover",
devoted to them, the devotion that so mercilessly captures
from them all they know of individuality...
...and I proudly pull my scarf over my hair
And they stand there, talking of getting new shorts, new gels
and colors, new boyfriends, materialistic things
that so wrongfully capture from them all they know
of God and love...
...and I proudly pull my scarf over my hair
For my scarf is my protector, my lover, my devotion,
my pureness, my beauty, my rememberance of God,
And I proudly pull it over my hair knowing that when I wear it,
I so rightfully thrust away all the things that the devil
brought about,
And when I put it on, I am
Thursday, 31 March 2011
In the name of Allah, Beneficent, the Merciful
In the name of Allah, Beneficent, the Merciful
As-salaamu alaykum,
Here is a poem celebrating the conviction of our Muslim sisters.
It was taken from the poetry section of the Anwaar ul-Haqq page
located at http://home1.gte.net/mujahid.
Insha'Allah, visit this site and submit articles or poems.
No longer shackled by the oppression
of miniskirts and see-thru shirts,
my sisters stand proud.
Covered by cloth and more so by conviction
submission to Allah, they stand apart from the crowd.
The taunts, the jeers, the stares, the leers
Never fazing or dissuading them from following the deen.
Real women they be, the epitome of femininity
strong, secure, complete human beings.
Not slaves to the world of fashion
which is always askin'
for women to dress in as less as they can.
Their hijab is for the sake of Allah
in imaan and taqwa
they refuse to be objectified by man.
Such are my sisters in Islam.
As-salaamu alaykum,
Here is a poem celebrating the conviction of our Muslim sisters.
It was taken from the poetry section of the Anwaar ul-Haqq page
located at http://home1.gte.net/mujahid.
Insha'Allah, visit this site and submit articles or poems.
No longer shackled by the oppression
of miniskirts and see-thru shirts,
my sisters stand proud.
Covered by cloth and more so by conviction
submission to Allah, they stand apart from the crowd.
The taunts, the jeers, the stares, the leers
Never fazing or dissuading them from following the deen.
Real women they be, the epitome of femininity
strong, secure, complete human beings.
Not slaves to the world of fashion
which is always askin'
for women to dress in as less as they can.
Their hijab is for the sake of Allah
in imaan and taqwa
they refuse to be objectified by man.
Such are my sisters in Islam.
The Seed Within . . .
Just a little something to share from one sister to other
sisters in light of inspiration and striving to be all we can be with
the Guidance of our Gracious Lord and Creator, Allah.
The Seed Within . . .
An infantile seed, carried by the wind,
whirls around until reaching its final goal.
Its roots extend and then take firm hold,
embedded deeply within the nourishing soil.
Hence springs forth, for all eyes to behold,
the glorious vision of a grand sycamore.
Indeed is the Plan, the best of Designs,
Decreed by the Wisdom of our Mighty Lord.
Each creation carries its own seed within,
following along a similar course.
A miniscule entity may be our start,
ahead of us, great things may be in store.
The outcome of our seed is yet to be seen.
That which we reap proceeds from what we sow.
Indeed is the Plan, the best of Designs,
Decreed by the Wisdom of our Great Creator.
Maryam L. Kobbe
sisters in light of inspiration and striving to be all we can be with
the Guidance of our Gracious Lord and Creator, Allah.
The Seed Within . . .
An infantile seed, carried by the wind,
whirls around until reaching its final goal.
Its roots extend and then take firm hold,
embedded deeply within the nourishing soil.
Hence springs forth, for all eyes to behold,
the glorious vision of a grand sycamore.
Indeed is the Plan, the best of Designs,
Decreed by the Wisdom of our Mighty Lord.
Each creation carries its own seed within,
following along a similar course.
A miniscule entity may be our start,
ahead of us, great things may be in store.
The outcome of our seed is yet to be seen.
That which we reap proceeds from what we sow.
Indeed is the Plan, the best of Designs,
Decreed by the Wisdom of our Great Creator.
Maryam L. Kobbe
A story of an Iraqi Baby
A story of an Iraqi Baby (fwd)
This Poem was published in Attahaddi about two years ago.It tells the
sad story of the children of Iraq. Read it, think about it and take
action. Save the children.
Arab American Democratic Committee. ebeid123@bellatlantic.net.
********Lift the embargo ****** Save the Children ************
TO THE PEOPLE OF THE WORLD
This is the story that must be told
of an Iraqi baby, not very old.
Lying in her crib one star lit night
How could she know of those planes in flight?
She lay there quietly touching her nose,
Watching her mobile, wiggling her toes,
Oohing and cooing, so sweetly is she,
Talking to someone, who could it be?
An angel is standing with her in the room.
The baby is smiling, unaware of her doom.
The crib starts to shake and the mobile goes round.
And suddenly comes a most deafening sound.
The ceiling drops in, in a second or two ...
On top of her crib so she ceases to coo ...
No one knows how long she lie there
Who thought about it? doesn't anyone care?
Is she alive? is she dead? Is she in any pain?
Now that you mention it, who knows her name?
Her name is Amal. In English we say Hope.
Crushed between the rubble,her tiny fingers start to grope.
Where is my mommy? I love her so dear
Come, get me mommy! It's dark in here!
I'm scared and I'm hungry and I can't see my feet.
There's blood in my mouth! Give me something to eat!
Where is my daddy? Where's my big brother?
It hurts when I breath! Where is my mother?!
How long have I been here? Is this just a dream?
I open my mouth, but can't even scream.
That angel appears once again to my side,
This time with a tear I plead Why have I died?
Am I alone in my sufferings? No, there are many others.
In our grief and our misery, we are sisters and brothers.
Who are we? I ask you ... for what crime did we die?
They're throwing a party! Doesn't anyone cry?!
Is it True? Am I nothing?! How could it be?
Don't they also have babies, just like me?
It is war they say, of which death is part.
How blind they've become, How hardened of heart.
Did someone say hero? To whom do they speak?
A victory claimed for killing the weak?!
Why are they happy? Why are they proud?
Don't they know that I'm cold in my burial shroud?!
No war has been won; No ifs, buts, or maybes,
They've Only Killed Babies!!!!
Signed Me,
An Iraqi Baby
This Poem was published in Attahaddi about two years ago.It tells the
sad story of the children of Iraq. Read it, think about it and take
action. Save the children.
Arab American Democratic Committee. ebeid123@bellatlantic.net.
********Lift the embargo ****** Save the Children ************
TO THE PEOPLE OF THE WORLD
This is the story that must be told
of an Iraqi baby, not very old.
Lying in her crib one star lit night
How could she know of those planes in flight?
She lay there quietly touching her nose,
Watching her mobile, wiggling her toes,
Oohing and cooing, so sweetly is she,
Talking to someone, who could it be?
An angel is standing with her in the room.
The baby is smiling, unaware of her doom.
The crib starts to shake and the mobile goes round.
And suddenly comes a most deafening sound.
The ceiling drops in, in a second or two ...
On top of her crib so she ceases to coo ...
No one knows how long she lie there
Who thought about it? doesn't anyone care?
Is she alive? is she dead? Is she in any pain?
Now that you mention it, who knows her name?
Her name is Amal. In English we say Hope.
Crushed between the rubble,her tiny fingers start to grope.
Where is my mommy? I love her so dear
Come, get me mommy! It's dark in here!
I'm scared and I'm hungry and I can't see my feet.
There's blood in my mouth! Give me something to eat!
Where is my daddy? Where's my big brother?
It hurts when I breath! Where is my mother?!
How long have I been here? Is this just a dream?
I open my mouth, but can't even scream.
That angel appears once again to my side,
This time with a tear I plead Why have I died?
Am I alone in my sufferings? No, there are many others.
In our grief and our misery, we are sisters and brothers.
Who are we? I ask you ... for what crime did we die?
They're throwing a party! Doesn't anyone cry?!
Is it True? Am I nothing?! How could it be?
Don't they also have babies, just like me?
It is war they say, of which death is part.
How blind they've become, How hardened of heart.
Did someone say hero? To whom do they speak?
A victory claimed for killing the weak?!
Why are they happy? Why are they proud?
Don't they know that I'm cold in my burial shroud?!
No war has been won; No ifs, buts, or maybes,
They've Only Killed Babies!!!!
Signed Me,
An Iraqi Baby
Assalaamaualaikum
Assalaamaualaikum
It's been 4 and a half hours now,
since she told me what she did.
"I'm going this way,
and you're going that."
And brothers, it's been like an eternity.
I don't why it hurts so much,
since this was the second time around.
But I guess we all must remember:
"Whatever was going to hit us was going to hit,
and whatever was going to miss us was going to miss.
And whatever hit us was not going to miss,
and whatever missed us was not going to hit."
So I ask Allah,
to forgive me,
and pardon her,
and bless us both in the paths we take,
and to bring us nearer to Him by them,
and to never let us go astray.
I pray that all my dua's that I made for this,
that Allah has answered them all...
waiting,
waiting for me in Jannah, Insha'Allah.
And that when I see these treasures stored up for me then there,
I will be among those who exclaim:
"Ah! Would that that there remained not one of my prayers,
that had ever been answered in the dunya!"
It's been 4 and a half hours now,
since she told me what she did.
"I'm going this way,
and you're going that."
And brothers, it's been like an eternity.
I don't why it hurts so much,
since this was the second time around.
But I guess we all must remember:
"Whatever was going to hit us was going to hit,
and whatever was going to miss us was going to miss.
And whatever hit us was not going to miss,
and whatever missed us was not going to hit."
So I ask Allah,
to forgive me,
and pardon her,
and bless us both in the paths we take,
and to bring us nearer to Him by them,
and to never let us go astray.
I pray that all my dua's that I made for this,
that Allah has answered them all...
waiting,
waiting for me in Jannah, Insha'Allah.
And that when I see these treasures stored up for me then there,
I will be among those who exclaim:
"Ah! Would that that there remained not one of my prayers,
that had ever been answered in the dunya!"
Word of God
Word of God (11/94)
By the Sun, the moon, the stars, and galaxies
By the Heaven and Earth
By the mountains, the hills, the valleys, the plains,
the desserts, and canyons
By the ocean, the seas, the lakes, the rivers, and the streams
Lies the Word of God.
Iqra! (11/94)
Iqra! To pray for forgivness from Allah SWT
Iqra! To learn the vast amount of knowledge bestowed to us
Iqra! To know what the future is in store for you
Iqra! To seek the sole pleasure of Allah SWT
Iqra! To reap the fruits of what Allah SWT has given us
Iqra! To understand the principles of Islam
Iqra! To love Allah SWT, because it is he who we came from
and he to whom we return
Iqra! To be blessed with the Holy Qu'ran.
Iqra!
Utopia (11/92)
I dreamt of a place filled with peace and happiness
This place reminded me of tranquility, pacificity,
relaxation, and joy
It was a place where bickering, hostilities,
and evils ceased to exist.
It was a place where the old ones speak of,
but cannot see until their departure.
It was a place where the pure ones are admitted,
and the dark ones denied.
The law of this land is love.
It is love that makes you functional.
It is love that decided your fate.
It is love that allows ou to be rich.
It is love that procudes your kindness.
It is love that grants you life until the next day.
And to gain this love is to hate evil.
We must realize that our place in this world is limited,
and we must make the most with what little we have with us.
Destroy the differences and unite together so that we,
the denizens of this world,
can live in peace and harmony.
But most importantly, we can reach
.... HEAVEN
By the Sun, the moon, the stars, and galaxies
By the Heaven and Earth
By the mountains, the hills, the valleys, the plains,
the desserts, and canyons
By the ocean, the seas, the lakes, the rivers, and the streams
Lies the Word of God.
Iqra! (11/94)
Iqra! To pray for forgivness from Allah SWT
Iqra! To learn the vast amount of knowledge bestowed to us
Iqra! To know what the future is in store for you
Iqra! To seek the sole pleasure of Allah SWT
Iqra! To reap the fruits of what Allah SWT has given us
Iqra! To understand the principles of Islam
Iqra! To love Allah SWT, because it is he who we came from
and he to whom we return
Iqra! To be blessed with the Holy Qu'ran.
Iqra!
Utopia (11/92)
I dreamt of a place filled with peace and happiness
This place reminded me of tranquility, pacificity,
relaxation, and joy
It was a place where bickering, hostilities,
and evils ceased to exist.
It was a place where the old ones speak of,
but cannot see until their departure.
It was a place where the pure ones are admitted,
and the dark ones denied.
The law of this land is love.
It is love that makes you functional.
It is love that decided your fate.
It is love that allows ou to be rich.
It is love that procudes your kindness.
It is love that grants you life until the next day.
And to gain this love is to hate evil.
We must realize that our place in this world is limited,
and we must make the most with what little we have with us.
Destroy the differences and unite together so that we,
the denizens of this world,
can live in peace and harmony.
But most importantly, we can reach
.... HEAVEN
Friday, 4 March 2011
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