headache

sitting, knees bent,
leaning on our brick wall,
it must be an interesting sight,
hooded figure, in the dark of the night,
white canvas on which,
blue and gray lines intersect.
a grid. I’m wearing a grid.

I am a pattern.

patterns emerge.
pain convenes at a single
spot on the mind,
marching to the beat of
rhythmic sounds,
a cricket, the dripping
of sweet water.

trees rustle, an invitation
to walk, to leave it all
here, on the steps of the porch
to walk, to leave it all,
a multitudes of thoughts.
to walk, and steal minutes
of her sleep,
so I stay.

an invitation, declined.
safety reigns, as I dodge
the bullets of a suffocated
mind.
the softest of days,
viewed through a marred
portal of blinds,
draws to an end.
draws to an end,
but the night could not be compromised.
and the pain ebbs away,
as sounds diminish,
and the breeze carries it all
away and leaves me behind.

...

I’m back.

In the midst of the end. The end of high school, at least. So. Have you found yourself? Have you uncovered answers? Have you witnessed reality in a sea of disillusion? Can you account for these past four years?

I don’t know if I can do that, but I’ve come to certain conclusions. First, that life is cyclic. No matter how much we wander, we are always going to be caught in an orbit. But, we have a choice of stars. I’m not saying that every revolution will be the same or that we will never venture into new worlds. But I believe that our actions will inevitably draw us back and we will revolve. We will revolve until we find another orbit and the right star…it’s something worth searching for.

I’ve learned that knowledge, in itself, is sustenance.

The Messenger of Allah, peace be upon him, said:
“He who leaves his home in order to seek knowledge, he is in Allah’s path until he returns.”
(Narrated by Anas (RA). At-Tirmidhi, Sunan, An-Nawawi, Riyad As-Salahin)

Knowledge of different sorts, and it is only those who believe in its nourishing quality that are able to pass it on adequately. Through some pleasant and unpleasant encounters with educators, I’ve learned to search for and recognize the rare passion and sincerity in those who teach.

These past few years, especially the last, have shown me that compromise isn’t an option when the truth is on the line. It’s funny. Our English exam consisted of an essay about compromise. It was an overview of times in history in which compromise was necessary and times that it was detrimental. The last few paragraphs talked about the sheer necessity of refusing to compromise on something that you truly believe in. And yet, this entire school year, I have had words hammered into me, stressing the importance of being able to compromise. I think I got quite a few of the multiple choice questions about that essay wrong, but…

As conventional and cheesy as this sounds, I’ve begun to come to terms with what matters. What really matters. And perhaps, my success or lack of success is still going to affect me, but I hope that it is the right kind of success and for the right reasons.

I’m here. You’re here. Listening to the rain. Leap.

single rose

stranger.

Freudian Slip

by revolution

These, days with the vast future in sight,
I think
I think thoughts
Thoughts about this and that
Thoughts like ‘why is the only reason I know there is a recession is because of the news?”
And ‘why hasn’t Rupert Murdoch paid his dues’
and, thoughts like
‘Mother, why is that man staring at my breast’
and mother, why don’t I deserve the best?
The thoughts, endorse me
these ‘what do I do, to become free?’ thoughts
and, what if I could become everything I wanted to since I was three?” thoughts
and, why are there so many sprinkles on that cupcake?”
why do my words slither over me like a poisonous snake? Thoughts

these thoughts, come uninvited
like ‘I am glad I can’t see you because the lights are bright
‘but if you want to see me after, for these words I definitely will fight’
thoughts,
thoughts about ‘what is real and what is reality’
thoughts of reason and thoughts of causality
I think thoughts, and these thoughts become wonder,
And I wonder about the future
And I wonder about me,
And I wonder about you

Because you are a wonder
A wonderful toy created
Sold with a price taggg, pricless, they told you
They give you your cue, and tell you behold
Filled with
Plasticity
Toxicity
Filled.
With,
Lack of morality
You are but a wonder,
A wonderfully obsolete chase
I wonder
If this is just a phase,
This resistance to authority
This soul searching curiosity
This vulgarity of brutality
I wonder,
If and when I will forget
To question
To challenge
To
To face the world with my one woman army
I wonder how soon
Will I let myself become silent
How soon will I submerge
Subdue
And sub serve
How soon,
Because sooner or later
This endless emergency will become
The call for
Monsters
Molesters
Preachers
Educators
-Pause-
I wonder, with the sublimity of passion
And sheer beauty of seduction
If our war torn heroes
And politicians
And humanitarians
And guardians
I wonder if they are the oppressors.
I wonder,
About what we sacrifice
To emulate sadistic political activity
To contemplate modesty
To educate cruelty
And I wonder,
Where we exchanged our
Passion for political correctness
Our thoughts for their tanks
our ideas for their ideals
And our peacemakers for pacemakers
And our brains for their sweet
Seductive bullshhhhi
So take a moment of silence
Not for the fallen soldiers
Or the raped minds of violence
Take this moment of silence
To see if you can still bear the passive thoughts
That have conquered your conscience.

so let me rethink these thoughts
What is real?
Is the truth without the added sex appeal.
What is real is
My conviction
My words
My voice.

This was the piece mentioned in the post from a few days ago.

Noor-un alaa noor

The following is a translation of verse 35 of the 25th chapter of the Quran:

God is the Light of the heavens and the earth. The parable of His light is, as it were, that of a niche containing a lamp; the lamp is [enclosed] in glass, the glass [shining] like a radiant star: [a lamp] lit from a blessed tree - an olive-tree that is neither of the east nor of the west the oil whereof [is so bright that it] would well-nigh give light [of itself] even though fire had not touched it: light upon light! God guides unto His light him that wills [to be guided]; and [to this end] God propounds parables unto men, since God [alone] has full knowledge of all things.

these past few days

it is as if
love was holding me together,
while my mind threatened to dissipate,
love was holding me together and I see it
now.
I see it in words and warm wishes
that walk through me,
settle near my heart and sing it to sleep
I see it in gifts that were selected and
constructed with an intimacy that makes me close
my eyes and breathe deeply, freely
and I see it in an early morning,
in a beautiful cake,
I hear it in laughter that lights up my room.
and I feel it in your hugs,
I feel it in your hugs. <3
[thank you]