Posts from the “Poetry” Category

these nights

Posted on September 3, 2019

these nights carry within their folds a song which breaks the heart, and by such, then lives on the pierce comes soft, the ache, it never ends once tasted, this, a wound which never mends   stirring on trees, a fragrant symphony rising on stars, blazing your memory worlds vanish, now, there’s only you and I great silence, under tapestry of sky   around us waits, lonely expanse of land once more a child, you take me by the hand with trembling steps towards the days of yore a blood-dimmed tide, a whistling desert shore   as we draw near, my heart begins to pound my soul knows well the sadness of this ground something tells me that I’ve been here before as if…

my guide

Posted on April 26, 2019

my heart’s rapture holds the momentwhen I first glanced upon your facewhen all that mattered disappearedand you remained there in its place   when we first met, you did not speakyet until now, your voice I hearand though the miles stretch out farby the soul’s standard, you are near   I came to you in summer’s heatwith weary limbs and aching solesupon your doorstep I then fellfeeling, at last, I had come home   resting your hand upon my headyou wiped my journey’s dust awaywith you I sat, you marked the pathfor one who’d wandered long astray   above us rose a blooming moonits light extinguished all the starsand it was then I realizedI am there only where you are   for years, the…

there is a tale

Posted on September 10, 2018

there is a tale that aches the heart whose telling tears its seams apart a thousand years of flowing tears which call: ya Hussain   there was a band of noble few who left behind all that they knew to fight the fight of dark and light their chief, al-Hussain   of young and old their party made both valiant men and women brave with noble brows this noble vow til death! ya Hussain   with scorching days and bitter nights the barren desert marked their plight the wound struck first — the children’s thirst their cry, ya Hussain   the enemy in thousands came crooked their cause, lowly their aim blinded by greed prepared their steeds to kill… ya Hussain…   the river…

nothing but beauty

Posted on October 1, 2017

ya Zaynab, the time has come to bid Hussain farewell horrors to pass the looming of a bloody moon foretells   ya Zaynab, with the rising of Ashura’s sun to come to the aid of your Hussain there will be left no one   ya Zaynab, to the battlefield he is to go and will shower down upon him rain of merciless arrows   ya Zaynab, facing thousands he’ll stand as one yet all will scatter from the sword of Ali’s fearless son   ya Zaynab, seeing light, the darkness will be scared more archers will be signaled and more swordsmen prepared   ya Zaynab, then wounds on wounds will kiss his skin, and when they do the enemy will start to circle in……

the smallest acts

Posted on September 30, 2017

there have been times an infant this has shown that age does not define how much you know the wisdom that we look for in the skies is oft found in the youngest child’s cries   there have been times without having to speak servants of God managed the greatest deeds unrecognized by servants of this world young soldiers in the service of their Lord   such tyrants history had come to see the likes of which before there’d never been yet, by this Pharaoh’s reign would come to end— a infant’s basket down the river bend   such miracles which had not yet been done Maryam, untouched, had given birth—a son protect his mother, Isa had been able words spoken by one resting…

sweeter than honey

Posted on September 26, 2017

the meeting of swords, the clashing of souls brought by dawn after silence of night thousands who fight for darkness to prevail— small band, warriors of the light   the tenth of Muharram on Karbala’s sands a battle this morning has bloodily raged a few hours the length of centuries seems a grief by which young children are aged   from the first arrow released by the enemy Imam Hussain’s companions for him have bled while there is strength remaining in their bones not a drop of the Prophet’s blood will be shed   men continue to leave, bodies continue to return as a bloody scene in a weeping desert unfurls until finally none of these brave souls remain each companion valiantly departs from…

o eyes, shed your tears

Posted on September 22, 2017

O eyes shed your tears Muharram’s moon has turned in these days Hussain’s blood is spilled— the tents of Zaynab burned   O eyes shed your tears the caravan arrives soon will the sands redden with blood— the children’s gasping cries   O eyes shed your tears the bodies on the ground run upon by horses hooves— broken, in pieces found   O eyes shed your tears the son and father part the Prophet’s face enters the fray— yet spears still pierce his heart   O eyes shed your tears will not be quenched a thirst the neck of Hussain’s pure infant— an arrow reaches first   O eyes shed your tears to Furat Abbas goes Hussain sets out along his side— Hussain returns…