Wednesday 26 September 2018

dunya is

dunya is 
waiting in the cold rain
for a dream, thats faded into a mirage
it's going to castle 
and realising that life goes on
that they've already forgotten you
dunya is distance
its transience
its floating in outer space
never settling
in one place
it's trying so hard to erase
everything that hurts you
dunya is silent sadness 
it's words unspoken
its half the wing
of a half gnat
it's falling short
it's falling apart
it's losing sight
it's losing heart
dunya is living 
it's knowing
that's its incomplete
and so are you 
and so is everything 
dunya is a story that'll never be finished
 its words that will never be scribed
its truth, shrouded in lies
dunya is dark 
it's a lark, a laugh
a cry, a sob
a few breathes in a few places 

but sometimes 
more than sometimes
often
dunya
it's a pretty beautiful place
filled with pretty beautiful people
and things

just imagine 
what akhira 
could be. 

--- de-illusions

miss you every day 
miss you in every way
miss your sad eyes, your beautiful smile 
miss you so much
every once in a while

i tell myself to let you go
      but more often
i tell myself to let you know
that I still love you

but what good will that do
when circumstances haven't changed
not mine, not yours
they remain closed

all these unforgiving doors

and I'm just stuck outside 
wondering what to do
feeling so hurt 
so entirely through with
waiting. 
so entirely through with
breaking

my own heart. 

a thousand times over-

<this being human>

Tuesday 11 September 2018

thoughts on a tree top

thoughts on a tree top
     the branches are solid. 
the birds flit up above 
     i will stay up here forever
                
                    somewhere 
between the sky 
between the earth
            somewhere between 
this world
            and the    next

for here be peace.
                    here be rest.

/////return to fitrah 
    
and i think about what's to come 

     solitude
by the sea
i begin to countdown
the days till i can leave
the noise of the city 
              
   and return 
to myself 
to nature

      the sands 
the pine forests 
       the empty paths
the unmarked maps
and no where
and no one 
and nothing
     
but Allah

return to fitrah
-to be alone/
to find home
once again