Salaams All, this is my latest poem written last year and slightly edited, please forward widely inshAllah.

Ramadhan is coming

It’s only a few dayss away
I can’t wait
In anticipation
The coming of the new moon
And the best month of the year

I hope I’m alive
Although I’m young
There’s no guarantee
That I’ll be here next month

Been waiting
Anticipating
Hoping
And silently praying
For a chance
To experience
Another Ramadhan

Last year I tried
To improve and change
Leave the bad habits
The drinking, womanising
Drugs and clubbing

Managed it for 30 days
But on Eid I went to a rave
I gave in, wasn’t brave
Went with the flow
And got totally smashed

Its true after Ramadhan Satan is unleashed

Since then it’s been downhill
Month after month

This is a rap/poem whatever you want to call it that I've written. Please don't imagine me in some bling-bling! I don't do that stuff. Have a read and tell me what you think. It's called True Freedom, it may scare some people, but tough luck. Tell me what you think.

The drugs, the clubs and all the booze
Gave me the buzz, the notion of being full
How much money you had, or whether you could pull
The media, the magazines set the expectations
Making you think it was the aspiration
But that was before I got the news
Of the Truth, the Right and the only One
I've moved on since the old days
Left the idea of artificial fun
Learnt to correct those ways

Despite all the times that I've gone wrong
I've been blessed with the will to stay strong

Summer in your Hijab

You think you dress modest
But do you really?
Far from Islam
If you’re honest

The sun is out
And clothes are discarded
Satan on holiday
Most people astray

Even the person with shorts
And woman with a bikini
Is regarded as modest nowadays

So you compare to them
Kaffirs without shame
Dignity or honour
And say you dress Islamic
But the reality is tragic

I suppose you try your best
To avoid the seduction of kufr
And so you compromise
And go halfway
Not fully Islamic
Or jahil
But somewhere in between
You’re not a hypocrite
But you’re easily misled

Fashion is like a god
Seducing and influencing
Those with weak thoughts
Making them a victim

People stare
But most don’t care
They love the attention
Hijab with tight clothing

What makes the Sufi? Purity of heart;
Not the patched mantle and the lust perverse
Of those vile earth-bound men who steal his name.
He in all dregs discerns the essence pure:
In hardship ease, in tribulation joy.
The phantom sentries, who with batons drawn
Guard Beauty's place-gate and curtained bower,
Give way before him, unafraid he passes,
And showing the King's arrow, enters in.

Was just reading the artical, "RIP: Rest in peace or ripped into pieces?" from issue 10 and it reminded me a little of this poem that I wrote.

[b]5 Minutes Left To Live [/b]

You have 5 minutes left to live
Says the whisper, I wish was a lie
You were fatally wounded
And now its time for you to die......

I slowly turn my head up towards the sky
Keep asking one question, why god why?...
But God doesnt reply.

I lay still in the darkness
Never have I felt so hopeless
No matter how much I try
No one comes to the call of my cry

I feel alot weaker now,
Not long left to go,
My vision becomes a blur
And slowly my mind begins to stir

I watch as my whole life
Flashes before my eyes,
Highlighting all the good deeds and the bad

[b]Dedicated to the Muslim detainees everywhere

It’s another day
No different to yesterday
Locked up for twenty three hours
On my own
Alone

Away from humanity
Trying to drive me to insanity
All by myself
Like a Quran on a forgotten shelf

I refuse to be beaten
Mentally or psychologically
The games they play
While I’m in solitary
Messing with my head
And hope that I would go mad

They fear me
Even though I am locked up
Am I cannibal?
Like Hannibal?
Who needs to be kept away from others

It’s my mind and ideas that they fear
As they stay clear
Refuse to talk

To the memory of my father rahimahullah

For you,
It’s cool to drive home
An almond-eyed cool blonde
Picked up in Paris or in Rome.
For you,
It’s cool to score a goal in Liverpool
Against Real Madrid or Lazio Rome.
For you,
It must be fine to savour wine
And spaghetti while listening to Pavarotti.
For you,
It’s great to have £ 8,000 in hand
Or to land a higher rank in a central bank.
For you,
It’s a delight to the eyes
To watch sunrise in the dunes of Morocco.
For you,
It’s beyond telling the joy of jogging in Monaco.
Let alone the joy of shopping in Hanoi

Disease!
The virus is spreading in all directions,
No safe zone, no cure and no protection,
No symptoms to find or signs of an infection,
No vaccines, remedies and no corrections,

Quarantine the dreams and cut off our connections,
Don't let them in, not a friend nor a reflection,
Everybody's got it and want you to have it next and
Don't accept them if you wanna stay as an exception,
No pill
Can heal
The ill of this
Sickness, some are still in doubt of it's existence,
Some call it forgiveness and some call it the vengeance,
Some say it's an exit and some say it's an entrance.

The poor say the rich have the cure,
The rich say the poor are the source,
Revolutionaries say it's psychological war,
Invented by the press; just to have something to report,

[b]No more will you knock at our door.
No more will you walk on our floor.
No more will you drink our tea.
No more will you see what we see.
No more will you hear what we hear.
No more will you fear a fear.
No more will you shed a tear.
No more will you enjoy our foods.
No more will you tread our roads.
No more will you roam our woods.
No more will you inquire after me.
No more will you smile at me.
No more will you call my name,
But all the same
And despite all the pain
You stood to gain
When you clearly said
Just days before you were dead:
أشهد أن لا إلاه إلا الله

What’s wrong with your tongue?
Can’t you say Subhanallah?
Can’t you say Ma Sha Allah?
Shake off that gloom!
And let your face bloom!
Or did your team go down in esteem
By losing Three-Nil to Brazil?
Or did you lose your job?
Oh, no, don’t be a snob!
Don’t ape those in good shape!
Say Subhanallah! Say Ma Sha Allah!
And pray and pray to Allah
Till hope comes your way,
Ray by ray!
No, don’t think of Tsunami!
Think of the beaches of Miami!
Think of Amazon flowers!
Think of New York towers!
Don’t think of King Lear or even Shakespeare!
But think of Allah and you’ll steer
Right for the Light of Faith –
The Faith that’ll give you powers
And blessings in showers,
And your face will excel all flowers
In beauty and freshness!
Blessed be Allah! And Allah bless you,