The long awaited “Best of Shia Chat 2006” is here. Here are a few interesting stats.
Most Nominated Poet: Peace (5 different poems nominated, by different people)
Most Nominated Poem: “The lover of the night” by khorasani (by a whole bunch of people)
So how did these poems get here?
Everyone who nominated a poem (that was not their own) in the format requested (i.e., included (at least) author, title and link to poem) is included. Here is the original thread http://www.shiachat....h...917230&st=0
How are the poems ordered?
In alphabetical order by authors first name.
Here they are….
Tears, by Ali Imran
Rolling down my eyes
Why do they come?
Why shouldn't they come,
When I hear the distant cries
Of the widowed wives
The cries of the mothers
The screams of their children
But they are simply just
a glimpse of the past
They are the followers
of the widows of Karbala
The mothers of Karbala
the children of Karbala
There's a little girl
A loving daughter
Looking for her father
Unable to sleep
Without his comfort
I see a body of a boy
Run over by horses
I see a man
With an arrow to his eye
I see the fire
Blazing from the tents
I hear the echoing sounds
of Al-Atash fade away
This is all to say the least
For this is why
Roll down my eyes
The Ultimate Sale, by Ali Zaki
You can’t miss this thing
It is a one time only deal
Everything must go
What a steal!
But no returns
Or refund at all
It is a fire sale
Not at the mall
What in the hey
Could this mean
Is this “hot” stuff
Unholy or unclean
It’s really my stuff
Every penny & lb
It’s all useless to me
Deep in the ground
So don’t hesitate
Take what you must
I can’t use it at all
All covered in dust
If you have to pay me
Then send me a prayer
For this poor, helpless man
Caught heedless and unaware
Take my pans and my oven mits
My website with over a million hits
My player piano and my brass kettle
My old sports car, w/a racing pedal
My pictures & the wall they hang on
The toy’s the kids used to bang on
I’ve even got more if you care to see
It’s no gimmick, take them for free
I can’t guarantee them tomorrow
Because in this time of sorrow
My near relations, you see,
may just have some claim
But to miss out would
Certainly be a shame
Follow the cars driving
Down Paradise street
I’ll be the one wrapped
Tight, up in the sheet
But don’t let old me
get you all a fright
It only happened
The other night
It’s a sale
Except for me
All yellowy and pale
There’s bags of money
Behind the old buffet
You can have them
But just don’t delay
I was saving them
for a rainy day.
A heart for a heart, by Altair
His cousin Muslim Ibn Aqil was the first
Captured by the soldiers of hatred
He killed a few but fell into a hole
Heartless they are, so they beheaded him
Throwing him off a small castle headless
Their beastly nature dragged his body
Through the rough and dry Kufahs road
Imam Husein dreamt of his grandfather
Speaking to him about important matters
"Oh Husein go to Iraq, God wants you
to sacrifice for Islam, in this mission
Husein, you will become murdered"
He took women holding the legacy along
They traveled to Kufah meeting enemies
One thousand knights led by Al-Hurr Ibn
Brave Husein refused to obey these men
He set his camp on land called Karbala
four thousand to thirty thousand arrived
They stood as an obstacle was in the way
Between Husein's camp and the Euphrates
This was on the seventh day of Muharram
Upon the ninth all water reserved lacked
Twenty children came to their camps
Throats dried-out and pleading for water
Zainab could not supply her own infant
Six thousand men reached Karbala
Stampeding noises concentrated
Abbas sent the message to the army
"Please, let us have this night peacefully
We wish to pray to God and read Quran"
The companions of Husein and household
Spent the night of Ashura praying and kneeling
Buzzing of bees manifested from their worship
Death was among the air around themselves
Wicked men had no mercy towards Husein
Arrows dropped on Husein's courageous army
Violence, death, and blood shed during the day
Pretty soon Husein's army was destroyed
Left alone Husein stood tall and attacked
Killing multiple enemies until they gathered
They shot arrows, stoned and stabbed
Their filthy actions hacked at his head
The Final and Conclusive Battle Will Be Won, by Amani
Ethereal images ascending……… foreshadowing what is to come
Luminous vapour’s enshrouding Him
Hidden to thy senses…the love of one
Awakening the deepest secrets of creation
“The final and conclusive battle will be won”
Apocalyptic writing…. Transcending the sacred texts…”I am with you! I am one!”
Mystical lessons were conveyed by Allah…
Did you hear Fatima’s cry…. Mankind seek hussien’s son!
Systematic oppression. …. Was it hidden did you care to see?
The seeker of souls comes… retribution to humanity!
“The final and conclusive battle will be won”
Oh mankind …portentous decisions are engulfing thee!
Can you escape from Allah’s domain his representation of imagery?
Oh how wisdom failed to see!
Free from self-awareness…“I am with you I am one
Allegorical narratives…again and again I submitted to thee”
“The final and conclusive battle will be won”
Repressive rationale!………could you not sense our collective destiny?
On angles wings ascends life’s breaths to humanity
“ I am with you I am one”
Why could you not hear their cry!
You’re final attainment of the knowledge?
“I was sleeping my Lord…it passed me by!”
“The final and conclusive battle will be won”
The Exalted Soil, by blessedflower
the pure and exalted soil
which I prostrate upon
in submission to the Lord of all
the soil immersed with the blood
of those Holy Ones
to whose names our souls are pledged
the soil of Karbala
from which we be created
if only they could see
the soil of Karbala
where I wish to repose eternally
hidden, by blissful223
By stars behind the azure sky
and golden rays through endless cloud
and gentle warmth from drops of rain
and green-tree's fire far underground
By lunar hand in ocean's tides
and perfect lace in snow's first fall
from crumbling coal the diamonds mined
and instinct's pulling homeward call
As darkest caverns, argent veined
lie deep, unseen by failing view
til solitary candle-flame
explodes, illumines dazzling hues
That veiled from sight is not unknown
til promised Light reveals its truth
so look, and eagerly await
the day all Hidden comes to view.
dedicated to the Last Imam, (aj).
Prince of the believers, by Caelum
From afar only the sound of the prayer man could be heard,
Wind howling filling the mosque with chilly air.
You knew your destiny
and in sajdah you replied your love to God.
The heavens were already crying.
The flowers were already withering.
The birds could not be heard singing today.
Nor any children laughing.
All were quiet.
How could we live, when the light we lived for has left us.
And how could we find peace, when the sword of justice left us.
How could we smile, when the smile was when we saw you?
How could we dream, when our dreams were in you?
You were the city of knowledge,
and your message was obedience to Allah.
You were the Prince of the believers.
And you reached it through patience.
You were the Orphans' hope
and the poor man's answered prayer.
Oh Haydara! My heart still beats cause of you.
Calling for you with every single beat.
THE CHOSEN ONE, by DrEaMa
Standing on the highest mountain
Glaring upon magical fountain
Whispers of the wind pass thee by
Captured in time’s naked eye
Summoned by natures perfection
Day filled with Recollection
Sensation endowed of scorching heat
Pebbles grovel underneath thy feet
River below just a broken line
Sun rise awaits thy servants shine
Vivid trees speak of hidden treasures
Forcing thy mind to take far measures
Prostrating in utmost precision
Forgetful of Satan’s mission
A name was called out, familiar yet rare
Memories of happiness detained with care
Sudden tap on thy shoulder
Attaining sanity while becoming bolder
Numbness clenched thy body tight
Quaking upon bountiful sight
Tears flow endlessly of thy oppression
Drowning in guilt was foe’s confession
Watching thy soul ascend above
Victory of return was thy only love
Wings escalate thee higher and higher
Returning to thy Lords desire
Prayer for believers was Amnesty
Despair over thy hearts calamity
A promised wish of thee shall receive
Enemies upon worshippers deceive
Blinded truth lead by betrayal
Gluttony heaved them to fail…
Burn Me, by Ehsan
In the emptiness of a flute
a silent wind swept through
echoing out a slow melody
which this fire burns to
Its scorching flame awakes the sun
the scars of night cleaved apart by the horizon
bleeding upon lost autumn leaves
the cries of the flute increase
burning the lonely leaves as it please
scattering them like ashes through my veins
Oh you golden saffron flower dressed in thorns..
Ever since I saw the veil on your face
the curiosity of what lies beneath became ablaze
I ran through the valleys of night
to perhaps find your burning light
like a falling star lifetime flashed by me
slowly my moon was buried in solitude’s sea
now the gloomy waves move my cry..
Washed up on a lost island
I silently stretched forth my hand
touched only by the whispering breeze
as I prayed there on my bare knees
through the flute moaned the soul’s hunger
the unspoken words bore no longer
screaming out all the pain..
My love burns even this fire
that inside me blossoms just higher
see the agony that in my eyes glow
tears of betrayal from its depths flow
the water of my life is drowned in hate
that even the gazelles lament my state
I cried once and a thousand more will come..
Don’t ask how long I shall burn
as purity is the only thing I yearn
the path of love are not for the weak
tranquillity you may somewhere else seek
a true lover knows only pain
and so he is called insane
now let the weary-hearted flee
as my soul longs to be set free
Why Lord?, by Ehsan
Do You place me in a garden of sweets
Fill me with hunger and desire
And then forbid me from tasting?
Do You build what I destroy
Destroy what I build
And then strip me of from all but You?
Do You set me on fire
Then go hiding
And let me search in despair?
Do You make the thirsty
Reveal an apparent fresh fountain
But make it a mirage when I am to drink?
Am I given nothing from wanting
But given this world and the next
When I am exhausted from wanting in vain?
Am I created as your slave
But from truly serving You
I become a Lord?
Do You show me light
When I’m lost in darkness
And have become darkness itself?
Do You sit there
When I shed tears of repentance
And just laugh at my regretful state?
When I scream of anger and misery
You keep calm and quiet
Then embrace me intimately?
When I break a thousand heroic vows
You silence my cries with a gesture
‘Schhh!’ followed by ‘I love You..’?
Am I an shoreless ocean?
Or an oceanless shore?
How can I be emptied from all but You
When containing You is all in its vastness?
This world is so perplex and complex
I am little and simple - yet the master
Why Lord, Oh why..?
The Lion of God is dying, by go2najaf
Why is the earth shaking so hard?
And the day is as Dark as night
And this strange feeling from my heart
I know today a great person died
The told me this is happening
The lion of god is dieing
It’s not believable what’s being said
Ali is injured lying in his bed
And the say that he might be dead
From the poisonous sword that hit his head
How could this happen how could his blood be shed
It’s not believable what’s being said
The hero of Badr and Khaybar
How could a man like him die?
While he is saying his prayer
The tragedy becomes so nigh
It can’t be true what they're saying
the lion of god is dieing
I want an answer to my question
I want to stop this confusion
How he got hit, how he reached this conclusion
Will death be the only resolution?
If so then we need a solution
We can’t be lost with no leader in confusion
Answer me how he got hit
And who hit him in this way
And how did he react to it
What did he do what did he say
Who dares to do such thing?
The lion of god is dieing
I had an answer that won’t fit in the ears
Of every sensible man who hears
An answer that will give you all the fears
An answer that will make you burst in tears
An answer which will make you cry for years
An answer that won’t fit in the ears
The answer that would make the angels cry
And their sadness would be known from their tears
As they all drop down from the sky
They would scar the earth for many years
And then you will know why they are crying
The lion of god will be dieing.
Ali woke up before the sun
When it was time to pray to the only one
He left the house and woke up everyone one by one
"wake up oh slaves of god before the time is done
Prayers is due to all to the father and the son
Oh people pray, and if you don’t you can’t run
Your punishment will be with your lord the only one
Wake up oh slaves before the sun"
Then he reached Abdul-rahman
And told him "if you wish I’ll tell you
After I complete the athan
The earth will cry and the heavens too
He was silent, not talking
The lion of god is dieing
After the athan was done
They all prayed to the only one
And Ali was the imam of that congregation
He was struck when he went to prostration
The sadness was there, too tragic to be spoken
When the angels shouted "the pillars of Islam are broken”
The angels mourned on that dawn
Because of that injury
On the 19th of Ramadan
Islam had a great tragedy
The angels of god were crying
The lion of god is dieing
Ya Ali, by hellotoyou
The day has gone and a light can be seen
I'm tracing the footsteps of Imam Al Mutaqeen
Ya Rahmaaaaaaan Ali lowers his head to prostrate
No fear in his heart, yaseen on his lips he knows his fate
The night is cold and the moon is suddenly shy
Even the sky is kissing the leader of the faithful goodbye
Be Wilayati Ka YA ALI YA ALI
How humble, how devoted, how submissive is ALI
How brave, how courageous, how daring is ALI
Those who stood infront of Ali did not dare defy the will of Allah (SWT)
A strike from Ali is worth more than the worship from now till Qayamah
I can suddenly hear Kufa, "Qad Qaamatis Salaaaaaaaah"
The masjid is silent and engaged in prayer
Hidden in the shadows is a deceitful slayer
Allah Hu Akbar................Ali completed his wudhoo
Stand again.......... only to go into rukoo
To our creator we submit and to him we concede
Ali bent down to perform his last deed
and the heart of Bibi Zainab beating in grief
the sword of Ibne Muljim rose upon the head of the wali and our belief
and the orphans that would be Imam Hassan and Imam Hussain
knowing that he will be lying on arrows on kerbalas hot and sandy plain
the fateful strike came down and the sword turned to red
Ali in sajdah, did not rise and this is what he said
By the Lord of the Ka'bah, I have succeeded!
AS the coward ran, "Allah SWT it is only to you I have pleaded"
Take me to Kawther, so I may stand infront of your shah
So I can bow and say "As Salam Alayka Ya Rasoolullah"
Inna Lillahi Wa Inna Ilay hi Rajeeon
Look at the sky!! and its half dipped red blooded moon
Echoes from medina OH MY BELOVED ALI
Kabaa has split once more OH MY BELOVED ALI
for blood has been spilled and masjid e kufa is empty and bare
Jibrael is crying....Oh master of redemption Oh master of prayer
Where is that noor that lifted khaybar and rose his zulfiqaar
Where is the charging lion of god, Ya Haider E Karrar
Where is the commander of the faithful, Ameer Al Mo'meneen
I can hear the cries from heaven, Peace be upon you Ya Syedata Tinisail Alameen.
Broken Heart, by karateka
let not ur heart spill,
although it be ur ardent will,
patience holds the only key,
and only time will let u see,
u may not now realise,
the fogg that covers up ur eyes,
but love is blind as the old do tell,
weak is our mind to this ancient spell,
one day, looking back u will smile,
of how ur heart once ran a mile,
the state of the young the tale of the old,
welcome to the human world,
open ur eyes and look at ur life,
this poem sucks so forget the wife
MOST NOMINATED POEM, 2006
The lover of the night, khorasani
A hard day’s work, hands that bled
What he must do to make sure the family is fed
A hug for his son, a kiss for his daughter
In his bed with his wife, a cool drink of water
He sits to relax, in the cool night air
But with in his heart, he feels despair
His son is peaceful, his daughter is sleeping
His wife unaware, he is secretly weeping
The world doesn’t know he is silently seeking
The love of his heart, its reason for beating
He turns to the darkness, but to him he sees light
For he can only speak to his beloved, under the cover of night
He sneaks out quietly, making sure he is not seen
Finding a secluded spot for this meeting, on which he is so keen
He went until he was sure he and his beloved were alone
Then he began to mutter and sob in a tear jerking tone
“Oh my heart of hearts, what is wrong with thee
You put in your self other than my beloved; do you wish to deceive me?
These material things cannot transcend time and space
Like the light that is shone by my beloveds true face.”
“Nay, to me these things are like the venom of the snake
Why is it in empty worldly promises you wish to partake
Why is that you wish to poison my soul
Is treachery and deceit truly your goal?”
His hands he had worked so hard with began to shake
And the lips he kissed his daughter with started to quake
He raised his head up with a tear in his eye,
And he cried out with a most heart wrenching cry.
“Oh my beloved you have stolen my heart
And from your possession I wish it will not part.”
“Oh my beloved, I am intoxicated with your love
I see your name etched in every thing, from the bright green leaves
To the beautiful white dove”
“Oh my beloved I can’t stand to be
In a world where every thing has forsaken thee”
“Oh my beloved I wish so desperately to leave
This material realm which others so desperately cleave
Like the frightened child clinging to its mother’s nourishing sleeve.”
“Oh my beloved, take me from here,
Ascend me to your kingdom of love which I hold so dear
Grant me that embrace, which I no longer fear”
As he sat there crying and sobbing, tear after tear
His beloved knew that this man was sincere
So the beloved decided to grant his request
For this mans call was surely not in jest
He was granted the embrace which he so desperately sought
The same embrace which others have earnestly fought
The embrace that people were usually frightened of
Was the embrace that this man saw as an act of pure love
When the messenger finally came to brisk him away
To take him to a place where his heart would be far from earthly decay
It is hard to describe, for words can not say
What people feel in earthly love
How could they possibly express the heavenly way?
Through the Eyes of the Damned, by LightTheWay786
The baby's ripped skull and the bullet it holds,
The dead, bloodied masses, of men young and old.
I see a young angel, walking down the dirt road,
Who gets shot before reaching, her peaceless abode.
I see the scared boy, and the rocks that he wields;
The rainfall of rockets, upon a sky without shield.
The enemy men, who have no losses to fear;
Versus cowering women losing all they hold dear.
Fields full of crimson are gushing aflood,
As from the wounded and sinless flow rivers of blood.
The infant is crying, but its wails go unheard;
The promise of living, becomes a nightmare deferred.
The young woman thinks she's reading "Romance in Hell",
As she fathoms the fairytales of untimely farewells.
And for the man in his armchair, who sifts through the pages,
There is no time to be dwelling, on inconsequential outrages.
And the mother sees not murder, as she whirls through the stores;
In her world TIME is killed; the only pains lie in bores.
And the rambunctious young boy, who aspires to fly?
He has not yet been taught, to watch his Superman die.
The family cares not, of an unfathomed place;
Wherein innocent children, look death in the face,
Where the fate of a woman, cannot be escaped;
Whose cries go unheard, when her Freedom is raped,
Where the man's major plans, by default are to die,
And who must spend HIS time dwelling, on impending good-byes.
But alas those who live, in this world, faraway,
Find the time to complain, of THEIR miserable days...
The people who still have their families alive;
Who enjoy sheletered lives, with full potential to thrive;
Who have not had to witness, their siblings be shot,
Whose fathers are not sent, into prisons to rot,
Who will not receive death, for voicing their thoughts;
Who have yet to lament; or have cause for distraught.
They know NOT A THING of the children who die,
The knowledge they have, is happy lie after lie,
They have not seen the world, which from my window I see,
For while MY PEOPLE die, they live on... blissfully.
Zuljanah's Narrative, by LightTheWay786
The sun blazed in burning fury, setting fire to the sand,
On which the great Imam, was to take his final stand.
He motioned me to go, saying 'O my faithful horse,
Let me meet my bitter destiny, on fate's awaiting course.'
I tried to move yet found I couldn't, for my legs were being held,
'Do not go, o Zuljanah,' my immobility seemed to yell.
I turned my gaze below, to the burning desert ground;
And here a sobbing little girl, to my agony I found.
The child with desperation, was weeping silent tears,
Bewildered she choked, 'Zuljanah, don't take my father dear.'
The weakened little girl, so deprived of food and water,
Was indeed masoom Sakina, my master's dearest daughter.
'My ever-faithful charger, why don't you move ahead?'
In response to master's question, I tilted down my head.
His eyes beheld Sakina, and he hugged her with a cry,
And asked her please to let him go; to let her father die.
Sakina looked at him, her eyes ablaze with pain,
"O father," she said chokingly, "With my blessing, go be slain,
But promise me, my father, one day to take me too,
for how can this Sakina, live her life away from you?"
Hussain said, "yes Sakina, I promise what you say,
Now you make me too a promise, and recall it every day.
My innocent Sakina, when I die you will be choked;
When you shed a tear for me, you will be beaten and provoked.
So promise me my daughter, you'll be patient through all this."
At this he gave his little girl, a bitter goodbye kiss.
She nodded wordlessly, as I stood there, crying too,
For witnessing such tragic scene would any heart subdue.
Master willed her to be patient, and to try to cease her tears,
And then he rose a final time, knowing death was very near.
He hugged his little princess, and set her on the ground;
Both lacquered in a dazing grief, immeasurably profound.
He mounted me again, and bade his sweet good bye.
And then we rode away, to where my master was to die.
Alas while in prostration, my master dear was slaughtered;
in the agonizing state, of being three days without water.
And yes those evil brutes, they laughed without remorse,
While even I was crying; the wounded, silent horse.
I walked back to the tents, where a lady stumbled, dazed,
as she watched my master's head, upon a spear that had been raised.
I trudged up to this woman, and she saw me and cried out,
'You left with my Husain, and you came back here without!'
She hugged me and she wept, pain stabbing both our hearts,
As forever was this woman, from her brother torn apart.
Splattered on my frame that day, was the blood of God's adored;
And hence for such an honor, I will be remembered evermore.
Ali - The Oppressed One, by Malika
The radiation of words;
exposing cryptic expressions of the heart
Oh explorer of salvation;
follow my trails, as I reveal the notion of love today,
escaping the clutches of ambiguity.
Oh wanderer in the darkness of the night,
hear me relay the beauties of my beloved.
My sentiments are no longer eclipsed;
I sense light amid this mist of perplexity
The tears that spring from my eye,
account for my admiration,
as I write in praise of Al-Haider.
I ask the Yathrib's sky, of Ali's whereabouts,
and it directs me towards a water-well.
" Guide me towards my Master, "
I begged the burrowing moon.
" I am a lover clothed with despair,
abandoned in Rasul'Allah's land. "
" Seek the house with a burnt door "
cried the moon, exhaling the air of solitude.
I have heard my Ali is oppressed,
after Zahra's departure, he is forlorn of comfort.
With whom does my Master now confine,
the painful sighs of his heart.
If my mistress restricted her mournful cries,
to the loci of Bait Al-Hazin;
then may sorrow dwell in my heart,
for Ali Al-Murtaza is companionless!
Where is Salman, Maisam and Aba Dhar,
where are my Imam's loyal associates?
Rise Oh faithful devotees,
rise and see your dearest Ali,
sharing his whispers with the water-well.
The dark night shadows upon my grief,
as I walk past the forsaken alleys of Madina.
Ya Rasul'Allah! assist me, as I compose verses,
portraying the helplessness of your brother, Ali.
It is time for the dawn prayers,
and Ali has left for the mosque.
The perception of vague restless in the birds,
as they clasp the cloak of my Master,
with their beaks.
Ya Rasul'Allah! assist me, as I walk in the path of my Master.
" Allahu Akbar " - " Allah is Great ";
and Ali knelt in humbleness.
" Allahu Akbar" - " Allah is Great";
and he leveled his forehead to the ground.
Ya Rasul'Allah! assist me. I hear cries from the praying men.
" Ali is martyred! " " Woe onto us! "
echoed in every corner of the mosque.
With eyes flooded with tears
and a heart furnished with sorrow,
I leapt forward to catch a glimpse of my darling Master.
Ya Rasul'Allah! assist me!
My Ali, drowning in his pure blood,
with the onset of weakness.
His eyes searched through the crowd,
longing to meet his brother's eyes.
Ya Rasul'Allah Ali is waiting for you.
The final sight of my Master,
with his face smeared in blood,
he raised his hands higher,
and said; " I submit to His Eminent Will ".
Ya Rasul'Allah I exclaimed, petrified;
my Ali was indeed oppressed!
Zainab is Zainab, by Malika
To the clouded sky has come;
a brilliant star.
Amid the somber days of Yathrib;
a sun were dropped at Zahra's lap.
its light blinded even the celestial sun;
for, Zainab - the radiant has at length come.
She speaks not but with Ali's tone;
the eloquence of her father;
paddles across her words.
Like Zahra, she were illuminant,
her light aglowed in many hearts.
For Kulthoom she were a loving sister,
and for Ali, an adored daughter.
At a young age she bemoaned her mother's loss,
and eversince has been holding to patience.
By God ... none ever before her,
has showed such great endurance;
even the word 'patient' feels proud,
to be associated with Zainab.
What Zahra commenced,
What Ali continued,
On her birth,
the Master of Martyrs chanted with joy,
" O father, Allah has given me a sister."
The Prophet silently wept,
knowing the destined fate.
In the environment that she were budded,
even the forbearance of Ayoub couldn't suffice.
She were a completion of a saga,
which began centuries ago.
Ibrahim sacrificed his single child in God's path,
Zainab, gave away the fruits of her youth.
Her Aun & Muhammad, she sacrificed;
to display her unpatched love.
Zakarriyah prayed years to his God,
to give him his beloved Yahya.
Zainab prayed on eve of Ashur to her God,
to accept her two Yahyas.
Zainab, a model for our women,
who's beauty not even the sky had seen.
Her trust in Allah falls beyond,
the might of my humble ink.
My lady if you see me write,
you would realize my unconditional love,
that I have for you.
By your faith; I have my veil,
I owe my raised status to your belief.
You are my inspiration,
whilst tribulations befall me.
Taking your blessed name,
I learn how to remain patient.
for truly, Zainab is Zainab
untitled, by maysamopm
Does a Stone have Soul?
Shining bright like light,
Or black like coal?
Respectively the mixture,
And absence of light,
Romanticises our world
While mass production
Equals mass domination
And mass control.
Cuartos and Papaya motivate
And sustain until after…
Skin becomes wrinkled
And skin becomes old,
While ‘Better, Improved Tomorrow’
Remains a sheltered thought,
Through actions untold
The decree of Allah
Amassed in a torrent
Of personal pursuit
Exploding to unfold
Rationale in absence of thought
Makes the small-print
Clear and Bold
While its ignorance
Breaks the spirit, breath and heart
1 thousand and 3 fold
So confusion between decisions
When. and Who I shall hold
Striving for perfection and precision
Makes one repeat
What one has already foretold
Life guided by law
Providing warmth of heart
In the blistering cold
Cycles of disparity
Cloud the clarity
Of obligation upon me
Until I set within
A true mould
Ease we counter
With strict strenuous striving,
To ensure our story is told
By words of oneness
Never to be suppressed
Are more conclusive than gold
Trapped within points of reference,
While I take cover between
Sheets of delightful darkness
Lest I may be sold
Done in the best of interest
Of all the interests of all
Until a day
When the unseen carpet’s unrolled
Until this day
We aim to target heights
Upon low points
Which we never may hold
Though in vain shall it not be
For a time memories motivate
Just as they have motivated me
Thus through others and me
Continuation of this ritual obsession
Penetrates through the dark decadence
Which universally unites man in vice
The criterion for now has been spliced
And by all I know which is true
I firmly chant, While in a hypnotic trance:
Each unto his own
Allah laid a test
To sins we are prone
Each unto his own…
MOST NOMINATED POET, 2006
Union, by Peace
"Oh my son, how long I have waited to see you
Oh Yousuf now my eyes have a reason to see
Praise be to Allah for uniting you with me"
I ask you by the name that restored Yaqoob's eyesight
And united him with Yousuf
" Do not ask me why
You are not the father
If you were the father
You would understand!"
He watched him go.
Yaqoob clutched Yousuf's shirt to him,
While Hussain looked on Ali Akbar's fading back
"Stop, my son
Slow down a little
And turn your face back
Every now and then
So I can see it"
Hussain placed his head next to Ali Akbar's
As he lay on the ground writhing in pain
Smeared with the blood of his son
"Praise be to Allah, for uniting me with you
One last time."
'To kill a Mockingbird', by Peace
They killed you.
Bit by bit
Carved up your loved ones
And served them on a plate
Feasting on their misery
Oh Abul Qasim
Oh Imam of Mercy
Oh leader of good
Hw did Ali become so hated?
That they arrested him
The lion of God!
How opressed Fatima became
When heart heavy at your death
They came with fire
Ready to burn her and her sons.
Is there none to weep and wail for you?
None amongst them who mourn for Rantissi
To stand forward beating their breast
Saying Oh Ali What sufferings you faced!
What torments you bore !
What torture you had to endure!
Ali's life was harder than Hussain's
He was the patient lion
The caged nightinghale
The murdered mockingbird.
And we your devotees
Are left dumb
Our faces dry
As we turn the pages of the book of tragedies
We wonder at which one should we weep
For whom ?
Musa Kazim ?
The light of your eyes.
When your eyes closed
She died by your side.
Never to be comforted
Never allowed to weep
Never allowed Fadak
Never allowed to live
Your innocent girl
Crushed behind a door
Neither her or her baby surviving.
Imam Zaynul Abideen , by Peace
An old, withered man you walked around the Kaaba
Its covering begging to enfold you, to comfort your
Twenty year old wound.
The eyes you saw through, bloodshot through grief
Tell me how did you bury Ali Asghar's headless body_
Your baby brother?
The smile on your face, an adornment to a heart that
Stopped beating in Kerbala
A heart that died by the side of its father,
His last breath
What pain you kept hidden
Ocassionally the cover slipped
Until you recollected yourself
Your left lung silently weeping
For the abscence of its friend.
Your white beard, spotless clean
Bore no witness to the blood that
Flowed on it
In the depths of the night
While you secretly mourned
For your familys slaughter.
The people around you
Collectively stained with your
Ashamed and at a loss to know
What to say ?
What words of condolence to utter?
Their silence, a tribute more eloquent
As it spoke of dumbness not understimation or insincerity.
So while you humbly walked
Your withered shawl
Kissing your skin
And the unseen angels
Doing tawaaf of you
The quiet onlooker
Sat amazed and penned a poem
For the old man
Whose back had been broken
Yet walked upright and with dignity.
His blatant adoration
Lost to you
As you saw kebala
In your mind
Like the ending of a horror movie
Which becomes entrenched in your mind
Its sharpened talons
Refusing to allow you to escape
From its memory.
Did you ever hallucinate?
See Ali Akbar walking besides you ?
Or see a man who looked like him
And for a split second think he was alive?
Did your father's laughter ever echo in your mind
His whispered words of encouragement
Replayed whenever you did something
Which he taught you to.
And what did you feel when you saw your own
Four year old daughter
And your mind superimposed her face
With Sakina's lying in a prison in Shaam.
Tell me Abid,
The poet admiring you also wants to know,
Was there ever any rest
In between the thousand rakaats of night prayer
The incessant demands of your followers
And the memory of Kerbala and Shaam
Or was the day you were buried besides your uncle
Your moment of peace
An everlasting sleep.
I am wounded, by Peace
I am wounded
Holdin my stomach close
Except the pain aint physical
It doesn’t show.
I am wounded
Tears wanna spill
My dry face wont let it
Follow your Will
I am wounded
Blood all over my hands
I try to put pressure on it
My white shirt is dyed in red
I am wounded
And nobody cares
The clothes I have got one
Doesn’t show what’s there
I am wounded
I stabbed myself with a knife
I butchered my body
Cause it felt nice
Now I feel pain
But it shows no scar
I don’t know wat to say
Exept La illaha illalah
Panic, by Peace
The Panic is rising
Same pain - same game
Wondering how things will pan out
Will I pass or will I be back here again
Working delayed as procrastination &
Fear take hold.
Fear that you aint got the time-
Fear that things will not be fine
Fear that you will get what u deserve
A failed mark
And thats the end of your curve.
Youve been here before
Youve fought this battle and more
Aint no-one can touch you
When Allah is protecting u
Thats for sure!
A mother’s thoughts, by Rawshni Ali
Taqqabal minna shukrann b’rahmateka
These saddle-less camels
The captors cruel, the journey long
This sun, sand and searing heat
Tied behind my back
How could I have
Cocooned my baby in my lap
Cloaked him with my love
Petted him to sleep
Slaked his hunger and thirst
He was only six months old
Not wise to the ways of this world
How could I have restrained him
At the sight of his Father’s head
Moving along side us atop the spear
Taqqabal minna shukrann b’rahmateka
That you chose him too
To stand witness for your cause
Anta Arhamur Raahemeen
Taqqabal minna . . .
One little wish, by Rawshni Ali
I have begun with your name
Beneficient and with Mercy generous
Not that my submission
Matters aught to you
The distance earlier was great
I traveled and travailed within myself
Across voids to undo the remoteness
Now I am close
On the threshold
Now, My Lord
One little wish grant me please
Grant me that once I may
Be there, ashamed of all my sins
Just once, please, take me
‘Endah qabr-e-Hussain as Sayyedi
Take me to the soil which He
Consecrated with His sacred blood
And let me, in my muted voice beseech
“Yaa laytanaa kunna m’aakum
Fa nafooza fauzann azeema”
‘Aashoorah Moharram 1427
Unkept Promises, by Rawshni Ali
When life brings you
To these climes
Just PM me the flight details
At the airport I’ll be”
You won’t be there
Even if I do PM you
Those damn details
“I know this passion of mine
The ground, the crowd,
The ball, the goal
Is meant for those
Of a more robust health than me
I’ll try to be a spectator hence”
That passion of yours
Than your concern for us
It led you away
“These sticks I grant
Are incendiary poison
Polluting my blood
Undermining my brain
I promise to you
I won’t light another one”
You did, despite all
The assurance of vows
You’d make at the Bibi’s shrine
“It’ll be some more time for me
Two years more or maybe three
And then, Insha Allah
Ready for the plunge I’ll be
Then, you choose me my bride
You’ll do right by me”
Yet another promise you did not keep
You will be remembered . . .
uNdefined…?, by ScarFace
Shake my head in disgust, dismiss you from my place,
Silence says it all, this look on my face
Hate in my eyes, vengeance pumpi
ng through my vein,
King of my slumber, ain’t no one killing my reign,
Be a man, from your ashes you must rise
Regain your dignity, don’t prostrate to their lies,
Plot and revolt, it’s the only way for sure,
Cut your leash, no time to obey their law,
Raised slit eyebrow, nose turned up,
Do you know who I am? Dare to holler wa’supp
King of my world, slave of the reality,
Embodiment of sin, possess no morality,
Watch your tongue; the wound of words….
Cuts me deeper, then the blade of swords.
Judge me now by the reputation of my enemy,
Dressed in black, possess no identity,
Cloaked in sin, straying down the stream,
Unanimous is my end, hear my scream,
Unto Him I shall return, time for show and tell,
Have my self no deeds, into this perilous world, victim I fell.
The regret and remorse suffocates my breath and drowns me,
Was forever blind, but on this day I see..
Annihilated by arrogance and time, I now Return,
Forgetful of my ways, I wonder how will I burn?
Delves deeper then the fires of Mordor, out of the clench of imagination,
A fire flaming for one purpose, of the deadliest creation,
Put a Thousand Bullets through me, KiLL me a Hundred times,
But by your Mercy I beg you, don’t let the fire account me for those crimes.
The Fatima Tree, by Spriglief
The apple of your father’s eye,
Whose cool shade I now bade,
Hear my prayer, my supplication.
Everyone knows your fruit.
Let me be as fruitful,
Let me be as loved.
My roots need nourishment,
My soul is thirsty,
Send to me an Ali.
Give me your peaceful patience.
Give me a hen’s contentment.
I want a woman’s modesty.
Bring me into my season.
Let my nectar allure the bee,
The one you have for me.
Then let me bear for him,
With strong limbs,
Until I am know as you,
By my sweet and wonderful fruit,
Oh Fatima, the apple of your father’s eye,
In the Valley of Armageddon, by Spriglief
The sun was on my side.
The glint shinning off his glass,
Revealing his position.
Smiling, I shot an azimuth,
And called off the range.
The woman with the basket,
Coming down the road,
The place she always stopped at,
And left the fresh bread,
The timing would be right.
The man with the tractor,
Ignoring the rendering sounds,
Of incoming and outgoing,
He thought this land was his
Because he worked it.
It would take him about an hour,
To find the anti-tank mine,
Planted before the moon rose,
At three in the morning,
Between the old furrows.
I had know this pleasure at home,
Looking out over the harvest,
And knew it now,
On these fields,
In the valley of Armageddon.
YA ALI, HELP ME, by TIM WESTWOOD
The peak of eloquence,
eloquence has no peak,
can't attain that level .........with our ways so to speak
Tryin to find the truth, it's the truth that we seek,
Well then, say his name in your heart and not only your beak
The lifter of khaybar an you think he was like you an me?
Think again o intellectual..... you can't do that... see!
Disbelieve his names on the moon, well look again my friend,
You aint the first one to say its shirk don't think you start a trend!
O Lion of God and friend.. of the Manifestation,
Please come to me when I call and am in this situation...
I can ask directly to Allah, theres no hesitation,
but if I ask through you, surely you'll give me intercession,
When the yellow turbon is put on, can't no1 mess with you,
all jinns and all men will try to attack, but they'll be scared of you,
No muscle or intimidating looks to scare away disbelievers,
the thought of your gentle manners, makes them shiver with fever
O Father of the Dust of humanity, please let me through the doors,
Tainted screams I hear myself not befitting this love of yours,
Am not evil, but am not perfect don't we all have many flaws?
Am not sinless, and will try to follow all of Allahs laws.
Ya Ali with your mercy, assist me in my grave
When angels are beating me, and I call your name help me answer
in my eternal cave..
Munkir an Nakeer with batons of fire beating this helpless body,
all of a sudden their faces shine with light, bowing their heads at me,
Greatly am I mistaken, standing there is ALI
Entity, by Zain
Flurry of fire encompasses the heart,
Rage illuminates the essence of evil,
Mind distorted from the chaotic start,
Are these the attributes of the devil?
Unselfishness is a desirable bliss,
Love will overflow from every angle,
From He I beseech for help and miss,
Are these the attributes of an angel?
Unknowingly suspended in a muddled portal,
Emotions dominate the volatile deed's total,
Can this be the attributes of a mortal?
INDEX OF POEMS
Title - - Author
1 tears - - Ali Imran
2 The Ultimate Sale - - Ali Zaki
3 A heart for a heart - - Altair
4 The Final and Conclusive Battle Will Be Won - - Amani
5 The Exalted Soil - - Blessedflower
6 hidden - - blissful223
7 Prince of the believers - - Caelum
8 THE CHOSEN ONE - - DrEaMa
9 Burn Me - - Ehsan
10 Why Lord? - - Ehsan
11 The Lion of God is dying - - go2najaf
12 Ya Ali - - hellotoyou
13 Broken Heart - - karateka
14 The lover of the night - - khorasani
15 Through the Eyes of the Damned - - LightTheWay786
16 Zuljanah's Narrative - - LightTheWay786
17 Ali - The Oppressed One - - Malika
18 Zainab is Zainab - - Malika
19 untitled - - Maysamopm
20 Union - - Peace
21 'To kill a Mockingbird' - - Peace
22 Imam Zaynul Abideen - - Peace
23 I am wounded - - Peace
24 Panic - - Peace
25 A mother’s thoughts - - Rawshni Ali
26 One little wish - - Rawshni Ali
27 Unkept Promises - - Rawshni Ali
28 uNdefined…? - - ScarFace
29 The Fatima Tree - - Spriglief
30 In the Valley of Armageddon - - Spriglief
31 YA ALI, HELP ME - - TIM WESTWOOD
32 Entity - - Zain
Edited by Ali Zaki, 03 January 2007 - 08:06 AM.