Poem: Doubt Thou

Of personal failings there are many

But how many of them do we admit

We pretend we are as perfect as any

Stubbornly unwilling to submit
Ourselves to the reality
Yes about keeping up appearances

Not to others

To ourselves

Continually until we believe the lie
And then we have a problem
Blind to the failing

Faithful to the inconstancy
Neglect has made us incorrigible

Poem: Doubt Thou

Poem: Muharram

Now I understand.

I’ve been in Islam for less than half a year

So naturally there’s a lot that I don’t get

I’m not familiar with politics

I’m not sure who I believe is the successor of Muhammad

But I do know that

Slaughtering, massacring human beings

Regardless of who they are

Is nothing short of barbarism

And I, in refusing to acknowledge the tragedy of Karbala,

Would be nothing short of barbaric

How can I pretend I don’t hear the cries

How can I pretend I don’t see the tears

How can I pretend I don’t hear

The stoic, mournful silence

How ca I pretend I don’t feel the pain of those around me

Even if I’m a bit confused

How can I not admire the strength of Imam Hussein until his last day

How can we not cringe in horror

As we imagine the desert sand

Being parted by crimson rivers

That nourish none and draw

Similar flows from the eyes of the family of our beloved Muhammad (salallahu alayhi wa salaam)

And here 1400 years later eyes overflowing

How can we ignore the fact that he who began his life sitting joyfully on the Prophet’s knees

Ended his life in bloody pieces

How can we ignore the fact that Hussein and those with him were the very same family

To which we send our blessings in every single prayer?

The shadows of tyranny have forever darkened the history of Islam


[Allahumma salli ‘ala Muhammad wa ali Muhammad]

Poem: Muharram

Nayyirah Waheed: Emotional Nutrition

i will tell you, my daughter
of your worth
not your beauty
every day. (you beauty is a
given. every being is born
knowing your worth
can save your life.
raising you on beauty alone
you will be starved.
you will be raw.
you will be weak.
an easy stomach.
always   in   need   of   someone
telling you how
beautiful you are.

Nayyirah Waheed: Emotional Nutrition

Anaïs: prose poétique

La belle une fille est devenue une femme assurée. Elle est plus grande que sa mère mais moins grande que son père. La femme, qui s’appelle Anaïs, ressemble à Edith Piaf. Anaïs s’habille toujours élégamment. Chaque après-midi elle marche en chantant sur la plâge; elle n’a pas des inquiètes. La femme a une sourire comme le soleil et passe sa journée heureusement. Anaïs a une voix melodieuse et un regard doux, tout le monde elle aime, mais elle est timide. Anaïs, pourquoi es-tu timide? Ne saches-tu pas que tu es une déesse?

The beautiful girl has become an assured woman. She is taller than her mother, but shorter than her father. The woman, who’s name is Anaïs, resembles Edith Piaf. Anaïs is always dressed with elegance. Each afternoon she sings as she meanders down the beach; she doesn’t have a care in the world. The woman has a smile like the sun and happily goes through her day. Anaïs has a melodious voice and a sweet look, everyone loves her but she is shy. Anaïs, why are you shy? Don’t you know that you’re a goddess?

Anaïs: prose poétique