Search the Community

I say who cares, You so you do, But I don't believe it, Don't believe its true, I care for myself, What does myself have anything to do with you, How does me improving improve you, I ask you who cares and you still say you do, I avoid conversation so I don't really talk to no one, And that applies to you as well since you always seem close to me, But never speaking out vocally like you're supposed to be, But even if I don't speak or ask a question, You always respond with a sign, and a lesson So I find myself beside you not verbally saying words but internally my heart spills these adjectives and verbs make me want to say I love you while I stare at your face, I can't describe what you look like but your presence is beauty and I can't hear your voice because you don't reply you just give, and give more, I only see you every once in a while but your doors are always open, Now I can flourish, I learned, That death is always there, its loving that takes real courage, And now staying in silence Cause to me that's worse than violence I seek purpose in my life, A reason to wake up early and make a difference Cause living for no reason is foolish and senseless, I sought out an ear instead I found a path, A path not only straight but escalates like your climbing up stairs, All thanks to Allah, the one who always cares

I am one who weeps at the plight of the Martyr of Kerbala Won't the reward be given to me by the Keeper of Kauser (Imam Ali A.S ) "Slaughter of Hussain A.S is in fact the death of Yazid, Islam is revitalized after each event like that of Karbala." Story of the family (Haram) is unfortunate, simple and colorfull. It began with Ismael and ended with Hussain Neither are the battle grounds of the world new, nor are the opponents who are fighting. Same are the ways of (those who follow) Allah’s Lion (Imam Ali), and same are the ways of (those who follow) Marhab and Antar (with whom he fought). There are only and only two things which Islam have (or due to which Islam stands).. One is the striking of the Hand of Allah (Imam Ali's sword) and other is the prostration of Shabbir (Imam Hussain A.S )

Here's one of my favorite poems by Bulleh Shah: Na main momin vich maseetaan Na main vich kufar diyan reetaan Na main paakaan vich paleetaan Na main moosa na firown Bulleya Ki jaana main Kaun Na main andar ved kitaabaan Na vich bhangaan na sharaabaan Na vich rindaan masat kharaabaan Na vich jaagan na vich saun Bulleya Ki jaana main Kaun Na vich shaadi na ghamnaaki Na main vich paleeti paaki Na main aabi na main khaki Na main aatish na main paun Bulleya Ki jaana main Kaun Na main arabi na lahori Na main hindi shehar nagauri Na hindu na turak peshawri Na main rehnda vich nadaun Bulleya Ki jaana main Kaun Na main bheth mazhab da paaya Ne main aadam havva jaaya Na main apna naam dharaaya Na vich baitthan na vich bhaun Bulleya Ki jaana main Kaun Avval aakhir aap nu jaana Na koi dooja hor pehchaana Maethon hor na koi siyaana Bulla! ooh khadda hai kaun Bulleya Ki jaana main Kaun

There are people who think the world may end tonight. There are things that we all see just beyond the edge of our limited sight. I'm writing love songs in invisible ink in the dark. But I'm running out of ways to say the things she never seems to hear. It doesn't matter if this is for the best; when it's all said and done, in the end we're all alone. I'm writing love songs in invisible ink in the dark. But I'm running out of ways to say the things she never seems to hear. What are the chances that it'll all come crashing down? So many things I meant to say; but now she's walking away. And about the things they think, you know, I have my doubts. So many things I don't believe but only one I ever cared about. I'm writing love songs in invisible ink in the dark. But I'm running out of ways to say the things she never seems to hear.

Salam I found this poem nice in Farsi so i figured maybe i should translate it for you. From an older to a younger brother: From your birthday til today was mine, remember? Remember in Tasooa when you were boasting, the white shirt of Saqha was mine, remember? The new pants you wore and went to school was mine, remember? When you wanted your ball back, the yelling of hajj mashallah was mine, remember? His funny stories he told you, the sorrows were mine, remember? When you were expelled from school, the fake signatures on parent notes were mine, remember? You and cousin were the ones going to the movies til late at night, auntie soghras yelling were mine, remember? The cigarette that mom found in the garden, but was it yours or was it mine? Remember? I worked a lot of low end jobs so you could build something of yourself, the secrets of 3-4 streets were mine, remember? You slept in comfortable fur, but the sleepless nights on cardboard was mine, remember? Your recklessness and your ignorance caused a lot of problems, but the beatings from the street gangs were mine, remember? Remember when things got bad you ran? The end of the fight was always mine, remember? I will be fair, sometimes you were better than me, but the tricks you used were mine, remember? Sometimes you found money among your books, I didn't want to say, but it was mine, remember? They used a hundred tricks to get you out of military service, standing guard at the post was mine, remember? You only visited one day, you filled two albums, yet the headband of hazrat zahra(meaning i went to war) was mine, remember? Those 200-300 tomans you used to buy a car, those were mine, remember? Remember you went to the villa with your buddies in eid, the complaints of the owner were mine, remember? The laughter on the beach were yours i remember, the cries in the heart of the desert were mine, remember? I became a driver so you could go to university, but the bachelors degree you got was mine, remember? The daughter of our neighbor that you in end left, you knew was mine, remember? I always went to the side so you could stay on top, all those 1000 mashallahs were mine, remember? The world ran after you and tore your shirt, but the jail of Zulaykha was mine, remember? The gold service of mom was all yours, the qadha prayers of dad was all mine, remember? All the inheritance of dad was all yours, but his picture in frame was mine, remember? Remember when you were sick the doctors said there is no hope? The Nazr(sofreh) that was done in Hazrat Zahras name was mine, remember? You know this better than anyone, when you smiled, the whole world was mine, remember!

As. At 3.48 in this poem he is saying subhana (mahdi) which i have learned it is is haram, because we cant say anything after subhana then Allah. ANd why does they translate is at " glorious is Allah" of mahdi (as)"? Maybe someone who understands farsi can help. I love this poem but is he actually saying some "very" haram if you can call it that. Best Regards.

I praise Your Names All ninety nine Of Your Names On weak Lips I praise Your Names You are greater Than everything, That I See I bow to You And only You, Is the praise Worthy Of So, I praise Your Names In remembrance Only You Shall be Prais'd

ISIS From Syria there came the men of dark To the call of Allah they claimed to hark But their faces told a different tale For in them, the Forces of Satan did prevail Each possessed a long, dark beard But it was their malicious hearts that were to be feared On to Iraq, their boots trudged Their only purpose: innocent blood They slaughtered and killed without respite People who never really wanted to fight. Women and children fell before their might And they said for Allah, it was alright Fellow Muslims were who they killed And they said it was what Allah willed Was this the religion the Prophet brought? Was this the path his companions sought? Where in the Quran does it say That the religion of peace shows this way? Is this what the Sunnah of the Prophet displayed? If he was here, would your actions be praised? So who is the Kaafir, me or you? I think you know the answer too You call yourself the Islamic State Yet in the end, hell will be your fate.

Such a PROFOUND and POWERING poem. Please pay attention to each and every word. May Allah bless him. He is amazing and ishAllah he spreads his ability so they all know of the beauty of Islam. This is my first time listening to him.

Auxiliaries for Friedrich Rückert With 99 names, it’s hard to rememberWhat He was called then, back in September,In that year of youth’s turning.Without knowing, but yearningFor something, much moreThan what came before,Before I found outI could not stop the doubt,And I was unable to frameWith any previous nameThat toward which my own soulWould drive me, as its goal.It was not a mere naught;I still felt a vague oughtWas trapped and fluttering in my rib cage,Stopped by the must’s of that particular ageWhen one knows not what one can,And a boy is not yet quite fully man,When the seal of the wilIs smudged by the thrillOf everything newThat comes into view.Yet inscribed within that sealThere was some purpose I could feel,Some bolt for the open gateOf freedom: a password and mandate.It buzzed around my earsamid my hopes and fearsand unfixed likes and fomentdetermined by the moment.Ought, must, can, will, should, and like,Are only helping verbs by which to strikeA phrase that may lead to a name,One of the 99, one that could enflameA heart for an eternity,But that would wait for destiny. Hajj Muhammad Legenhausen 13 Rajab 1434 / 24 May 2013 / 3 Khordad 1392 http://www.academia.edu/3589739/Auxiliaries_and_the_99_Names

Asalamo Alaikum, this is a poem I have written several months back. And before you begin reading, I would like you to know that I am a Christian, not a Muslim. Allah Falling down upon my knees, I lift my hands to the sky, Allah, my God, I hope to please, Forgive thy sins and every lie, My eyes glance away from the throne, I feel afraid and all alone, Your grace abounds to my soul, Ridding me of demons and ghouls, Your grace covers my very life, When all I deserve is horrid strife, I am unworthy of being with You, but you stay pure and very true, Sin blackens my lonely heart, Tearing my faith and joy apart, But, inshallah, I will be freed, From all this pain and hateful creed, Now I know the road is long, and many paths lead to wrong, But I am no longer afraid, for Truth was shown and carefully made, Lord, you've sent people to me, to show me what I'm supposed to be. Thank you for reading :) feel free to list any comments, questions, concerns, or even any helpful advice... I'll welcome it and appreciate it.

I search for the one, who I cannot see I know you are here, I know not where you be Your destiny to you, might yet not be known The Quran is our guide, your arrival will be shown Oh Ahl-Al Muhammad (pbuh) be revealed to this Earth Only from you, peace will see a rebirth You are the prophesied, the final Imam From almighty Allah, you are a gift for Islam Oh blessed one, shining star of above These words I convey to you, with so much love It is you who will raise the banner of Tawheed The destruction of Dajal, with Isa(as) you shall lead I search for the one who I cannot see The promise is ours, through you the Ummah will be free! By SHEREZADE

My arms await my returning love On that day I will be free like a Dove Try as they might to break this hold Our love story will be the greatest ever to be told From across the seas they were drawn to my charm Bearers of bad tidings have brought me nothing but harm Every hill and valley, every dust and stone Are witness to your tears my children, I am yours to own My savours will come, then the world will see These walls will fall, from occupation I will be free My beloveds will return to their rightful home I am the land of the blessed Golden Dome Over me the sun will forever shine I am Zaytoon, I am Palestine By SHEREZADE

This is a poem I wrote, Insh'Allah people may learn or benefit from this. The sun creeped higher the moon shone his name as long as the skies would allowColours roared across like fire Whilst stars needed to dim, but how Each sky ripped apartSeeing what was about to be They showered love from the startNow, crying & yearning so longly The head that held secrets unspeakable Knowledge unimaginableAnd love undeniable Began prostration Invincible was he to any oppressorBut this fatal strike would be ultimateIt was time to be with his master&for time is unstoppable Oh Ali we cry at the image of your painMay the wind guide you with easenow your fate shall reignYour serving may be over but your amazements shall always seize

(salam) Just a thought quickly put down, no real thinking going into it. Simple and short. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Death, death is everywhere, No not good death, nowhere, Watching news for signs of humanity, Instead, tears falling like gravity, Endless, driving me to insanity, Yet, becoming more like normality, Now only flowing like thick honey, Deserved enough to pay the blood money, Tears, no more, Cares, no more..

I was surfing the internet to find out more about Shaheed Baqir Al Sadr when i came across this poem The Birth Of A Martyr Ya Shaheeden, O’ most noble of men Your knowledge has become our knowledge And your pain is our pain You were killed defending the honor of this beautiful religion Who else could claim to be a son of Hussain? Struggle flows within your blood For after you Sayed Sadiq ascended to the skies above Blood spilled on the land that cradled the birth of our martyrs And because of you, with the struggle did we fall in love You told us to walk and we walked And yet today you are not walking with us You told us to resist and we resisted And yet you are not here to resist with us You told us to think and we thought And yet it matters not, for your thoughts live within us We believed he had killed the heart of Iraq The man who gave his life to stand We heard you had died but death did lie For who could kill the mind of a land? You who enlightened he who never met you The tear has been imprisoned upon the pages of your life For how could we cry when we read your story Tears do no justice to such a man We have become like the rifle in your hand We are the lions of that land And I am whatever your philosophy tells me I am O’ Baqir did you see him? Did you see him hang? Let it not be said that Iraq abandoned you By my Lord Baqir we have avenged you The lions of this land could not rest For we tied our ropes around that seemingly untouchable neck We took our revenge and from saddam our shackles were freed For you o’ Baqir we killed him For you O’ Baqir we killed Yazid Its quite beautiful :cry:

This one i heard in one of Shaukat Raza Shaukat Majlis, and wrote it down. Jang larnay kay iraday say nahi aya hoon Arzay waran ka bananay makeen aya hoon Main garam raat pe rakhnay jabeen aya hoon Main iss dusht ko karnay haseen aya hoon Patharo abh bhi chahoo tu durr ban jao Meray kadmon pein jabeen rakh do tu Hur (rah) ban jao

Bismehe Ta3ala, Assalam Alikum. Be Ta Ha Poem 1. By Ta Ha, by Ya Sin, by the ascension of Ahmad 2. By Ghadr, by Kawthar, by Paradise, by Tree of Tooba 3. By the Holy Revelation that is Quran, by the Torah of Moses and Gospel of Jesus, 4. Let me be a King in my begging 5. A beggar amongst the beggars of Zahra 6. What nights have passed that Zahra has prayed 7. For us all to be Shia in love with the Master 8. Serving this Family is the reason and purpose for our creation by Allah 9. You direction and commander clear, do not hesitate and be free like the sea 10. That the world is not worth the loss of the hereafter 11. It is a great loss to be far from the Son (as) of Zahra (as) 12. And this transient life, youth and worldly pleasure of this world, is not worth the regret of the next world 13. If you passionately seek to be his follower 14. If you earnestly attempt to be his follower 15. If you place your honour in front of his feet 16. Surely, Surely you have earned the title of follower 17. How many Friday mornings did you not have rest and how much you were moved by Dua Nudbeh 18. Did you assist in removing the sorrow from his heart 19. Or did you increase the burden upon him like others 20. If you introduce one person to his cause 21. You become one of the leaders of his army 22. Did you cry from night to the raising of the sun? 23. How much do you miss to be by his side 24. Heartbroken is your greatest reason 25. If you are restless know you are a true follower 26. And the outcome of this restlessness is Paradise 27. A Paradise were its pleasure is to gaze upon him 28. The wind of Generosity and 29. The rain of Mercy have descended upon us 30. May you never close your heart to the sights so clear rezajohnvedadi Just another WordPress.com site12/16/12 Be Taha! | rezajohnvedadi rezajohnvedadi.wordpress.com/2012/07/18/be-taha/ 2/4 31. Of those who sell Yousef (as) so easily and cheap in this dark era 32. O’ Allah by the brightness of Mahdi (as) 33. By the black distressed hair of Mahdi (as) 34. By the gracious heart which is an ocean of pain 35. By the eyes filled with tears of sorrow of Mahdi (as) 36. By the lips warm with the saying of O’ Ali, O’ Ali (a) 37. By his remembrance of his beloved Hassan and Hussain (as) 38. By his benevolent hand and compassionate look 39. By the hope in the eyes of the beggars of Mahdi (as) 40. By the supplication of his prayer 41. By the saying of “Glorious is Allah” of Mahdi (a) 42. By the electrifying look and his black birth mark 43. By the graceful perfume of the Mahdi (as) 44. By his beautiful ceremony of haj and his great and lofty position 45. By the Hejazi Quranic recitation of Mahdi (as) 46. By the morning of Iraq and his evening in Damascus and his love towards Khorasan 47. By the lovers who gave their life on his path 48. By the sweet intuition of the martyrs of Mahdi (as) 49. Make me permanently enthusiastic for him 50. May I be sacrificed for his separation 51. Grant to this undeserving servant 52. Make me the companion, confidant, follower of his journeys towards Khorsan, Syria and Iraq 53. O’ Mahdi (as), O’ Mahdi (as), Assist me! به طاها به یاسین به معراج احمد، به قدر و به کوثر به رضوان و طوبی، به وحی الهی به قرآن جاری، به تورات موسی و انجیل عیسی، بسی پادشاهی کنم در گدایی، چو باشم گدای گدایان زهرا چه شب ها که زهرا (س) دعا کرده تا ما، همه شیعه گردیم و بی تاب مولا، غلامی این خانواده دلیل و مراد خدا بوده از خلقت ما، مسیرت مشخص، امیرت مشخص، مکن دل دل ای دل بزن دل به دریا که دنیا که دنیا که دنیا به خسران عقبا نیرزد، به دوری ز اولاد زهرا نیرزد، و این زندگانی فانی جوانی خوشی های امروز و اینجا، به افسوس بسیار فردا نیرزد اگر عاشقانه هوادار یاری، اگر مخلصانه گرفتار یاری، اگر آبرو میگذاری به پایش، یقیناً یقیناً خریدار یاری بگو چند جمعه گذشتی ز خوابت؟ چه اندازه در ندبه ها زاری یابی؟ به شانه کشیدی غم سینه اش را؟ و یا چون بقیه تو سربار یاری؟ اگر یک نفر را به او وصل کردی، برای سپاهش تو سردار یاری، به گریه شبی را سحر کردی یا نه؟ چه مقدار بی تاب و بیمار یاری؟ دل آشفته بودن دلیل کمی نیست، اگر بی قراری بدان یار یاری، و پایان این بی قراری بهشت است، بهشتی که سرخوش ز دیدار یاری نسیم کرامت وزیدن گرفته، و باران رحمت چکیدن گرفته، مبادا بدوزی نگاه دلت را، به مردم که بازار یوسف فروشی در این دوره بد شدیداً گرفته خدایا به روی درخشان مهدی، به زلف سیاه و پریشان مهدی، به قلب رئوفش که دریای داغ است، به چشمان از غصه گریان مهدی، به لبهای گرم علی یا علی اش، به ذکر حسین و حسن جان مهدی، به دست کریم و نگاه رحیمش، به چشم امید فقیران مهدی، به حال نیاز و قنوت نمازش، به سبحان سبحان سبحان مهدی، به برق نگاه و به خال سیاهش، به عطر ملیح گریبان مهدی، به حج جمیلش به جاه جلیلش، به صوت حجازی قرآن مهدی، به صبح عراق و شبانگاه شامش، به آهنگ سمت خراسان مهدی، به جان داده های مسیر عبورش، به شهد شهود شهیدان مهدی، مرا دائم الاشتیاقش بگردان، مرا سینه چاک فراقش بگردان، تفضل بفرما بر این بنده بی سر و پا، مرا همدم و محرم و هم رکاب، سفرهای سوی خراسان و شام و عراقش بگردان، یا مهدی یامهدی مددی http://rezajohnvedad.../07/18/be-taha/

The Lake - by me Les couleurs sur le surface of the lake Trompent Colors— Greenblueyellow Emeralds, crystals Swirling rainbow oil spills Sont tout mensonges Parce que quand les poissons nagent Au-dessous Frantically, Panicking, Le lac lays still comme verre, Stained glass, splashed paint, lumière... Ce lac, C'est moi Un jour, les poissons will jump To freedom And create a waterfall Out of me—bursting Through La brume Les arbres Le ciel et tout Verra mon inondation comme il se calme Encore Un lac— Un mer Partout dans le monde

Salam, A tribute to all mothers... http://www.islamicinsights.com/features/poetry/discourse-between-mother-and-child.html Kind regards!

On the Camel's Back [Muharram 2011] Watch my tears as it falls, My arms held tight, bounded in chains Hear my tears, as it hits against the sand This is how I’m mourning for you, my Hussain! She cried, as Sajjad mounted her on the camel’s back. If only my hands had the strength, she wept I would beat my chest, wail in pain As they detoured, only to let Sakina see Your headless body, your torn veins, purposely What grief does it bring to my Sakina, so little & frail Her silent tears and her eyes that ask “Father! Why is your head raised on the spear?” “Father! Do not ask of my bleeding ear” Sakina kept whispering all journeys long And to this, she cried, riding on the camel’s back. O Abbas, why is your head bowed in shame? You are my honor! The guardian of my veil! I know it’s because you cannot see, Paraded in the streets are daughters of Ali, Our heads uncovered, faces revealed Your head, bowed in grief is I believe She whispered under lips, Abbas O Abbas Through the streets of Shaam, riding on the camel’s back. Her eyes and her tears all locked, at the head raised up on the spear, I promise to keep your mission alive, O Hussain dear! I am the daughter of Ali, though I cannot fight, The Zulfiqar of my words, shall hit the enemy & mark their plight And to this, she gave her first address to Kufans, ... while on the camel’s back. Malika 2011

On the Camel's Back [Muharram 2011] Watch my tears as it falls, My arms held tight, bounded in chains Hear my tears, as it hits against the sand This is how I’m mourning for you, my Hussain! She cried, as Sajjad mounted her on the camel’s back. If only my hands had the strength, she wept I would beat my chest, wail in pain As they detoured, only to let Sakina see Your headless body, your torn veins, purposely What grief does it bring to my Sakina, so little & frail Her silent tears and her eyes that ask “Father! Why is your head raised on the spear?” “Father! Do not ask of my bleeding ear” Sakina kept whispering all journeys long And to this, she cried, riding on the camel’s back. O Abbas, why is your head bowed in shame? You are my honor! The guardian of my veil! I know it’s because you cannot see, Paraded in the streets are daughters of Ali, Our heads uncovered, faces revealed Your head, bowed in grief, is I believe She whispered under lips, Abbas O Abbas Through the streets of Shaam, riding on the camel’s back. Her eyes and her tears all locked, at the head raised on the spear, I promise to keep this divine mission alive, O Hussain dear! I am the daughter of Ali, though I cannot fight, The Zulfiqar of my words, shall hit the enemy & mark their plight And to this, she gave her first address to Kufans, ... while on the camel’s back. Malika 2011

You and Myself Shortened days and whispers of darkness And myself, Lost in the flame that lit my lamp Burning in its intense heat, As fingers flip through letters of munajaat. Those magical words The power of its charms, Momentarily awakens my soul. Chapters of powerful compilation, Each phrase of it, striking deep within Melting the castles of ego I’d created All with, the trickling of a single tear drop. The lover questions, How long does it take, to break free? To unlock the cage of ones’ mind By God, I say My vision stands humble, Before words Even begin to define station of true love. It is the magnitude of my sins, The calamity of my foolishness That have steered those Shivers of fear, as I sit to read These beautiful words from Ali’s munajaat. And yet, I celebrate with tears The breaking-free from my sins As I wipe off the tears; I recall, These tears were once, Those precious pearls that I hid in my castle And now they've become my identity Lord, break me free from those chains That limits my cries That heightens my head in ego That brings my heart false joy I yearn to read those beautiful munajaats Free from memories of my yesterday. Malike 2011

Martyrs Never Die [Dedicated to Shuhada-e Islam] Martyrs never die But live all life Wishing to become like Maitham-e Tammar; To water the date palm, where His death was destined in open air. Martyrs never die But rise to stand like Zuhair To Intercept the barrage of arrows, with his chest Saving the value of prayers By gifting his life, with honor and pride. Martyrs never die But only wake to celebrate The company of Ali’s loyal associates The companions, who stood with such faith That melted enemies with shame. Martyrs never die But open eyes, only to Wish death a hundred times and again, To give a hundred lives, to reminisce that one glance Of Mawla Hussain, as he comes to welcome them to his caravan. And who says martyrs ever die…? Malika 2011

Humbled By Your Favours To begin my day, without your praise To watch the breaking of dawn, in admiral gaze Lending ears to the whispers sung in your love By birds, trees, oceans and sky above And yet, if my lips don’t move To whisper your hamd, and your name Then, My Lord Your undeserving servant is all to be blamed. How simple is it to recall Those few moments I fell to the ground When the world seemed armed, all against me, When I felt abandoned, unloved, uncared and weary. How unforgiving it is then, To not remember how much you helped me. You helped me get back on feet, To become a “momin” so strong enough to meet Challenges of this world Through waves of happiness That filled me with life. How gracious my Lord! The treasures you’ve gifted me The ink of my pen, humbled before your praise The papers, my writing, my verses and phrase Cannot find place Worthy to hold your precious name. And here I dig through memories, How little have I thanked you? How generously you’ve given me! Lord, what can I offer in return? If I praised you, from the day I was born up until today, It wouldn’t be enough. It cannot ever be enough. All I can do, Is dedicate every minute of my coming life In glorifying your supremacy By shaming my satan dwelling within me. It dies with every good I do, It weakens with every rakah of prayer I offer It mourns, the birth of purity It leaves, when I celebrate becoming like Hurr Freed with honor, to become your true servant. My Lord, Eyes fill with tears, As I read verses of Rahman, “And then, which of your Lord’s favours can you deny?” Head bowed in humbleness, As my lips read your hamd Silently Silently Amid sobs and tears