Spare that which beats for you

​Release yourself from the bondage of living,

From the curses of your mind,

Your heart bears too much now, is weaker now,

Spare that which beats for you.

Let not the things dictate,

Take in the outside air,

For when there were no concrete roofs,

The sky blanketed over you.

Time is non existent, it is but perception,

You can flow along the current,

Or be the boulder that stubbornly sits,

What is time but a clock?

Be still, let the energy of love engulf,

Rise above to feeling what matters,

Stop holding onto misery,

Let your tongue taste satisfaction.

Don’t.

Don’t.
Don’t judge her by her clothes
Or by the perfume she wears.
Don’t.
Don’t snicker because you can
Or backbite thinking you’re pure
Actually, don’t back bite at all.
Just don’t.
Look beyond what is seen
Perceive beyond observation
Come sit below.
Where your heart is hard, soften
Where your mind is soft, harden
Let divine love enter you,
Don’t resist.
Please don’t.
To blame is not to conquer,
To slay is not victory.
Taste your own defeat.
Burn down these walls of hate!
We’re from the same glacier
Flowing down the same mountains.
Forgive; forget rituals
Don’t defame what is our fame.
Don’t.

I couldn’t have Ramadan and not post something Ramadanish!

I have an interesting post about Ramadan coming up soon, something I found very relevant. And something not common knowledge. But, for now it’s just a poem.

Sometimes I wish Ramadan could last forever
Who cares if we’d have to fast forever
That emptiness, that void finally filled
People generally more calm and chilled
That spirituality
Sacred mentality
No food? No water?
Shaytaan’s slaughter!
We’re not material beings, in a spiritual world,
We’re spiritual beings, in a material world!
The way Allah seems to be sitting beside me
The way we see Jannah’s key
Everything seems so easy.

But when I eat and drink for suhoor and iftar
And go places in my air conditioned car
I think, maybe I should have more realization, feeling
And I need to work more towards global healing
But that’s what this month calls for eventually
To try and make all that vice and despair flee
People say it’s a long shot
But how else do we end the rot?
Oh Muslims, answer your hearts
Scrub those dingy old carts
I see that tiny starved boy
And bruised girl, all part of a ploy
A half played with, half torn toy.

“We’re not material beings in a spiritual world, we’re spiritual beings in a material world.” I don’t remember who said this.