- in the name of Allah -
there is no in between for me, even though I'm in the middle. cradles of identity in crisis, revolving doors camouflage the individual. so many parts so contradictory, can't combine a cynic and pacifist in one to relish in the moral victory. paths meant to be taken end up being given short shrift, the world is alive but so carelessly in drift. people reach for the skies, land on their asses, proclaim the world as frauds, only themselves being hopeless and hapless. coping and learning, moping and yearning, necessities drenched in obscenity become simply more disconcerting. ironic I should lose to gain, perspective isn't loss, truth in both danger and name. beginning with depression, finishing with acquiescence, our imaginings a mirage longing for profundity with acceptance. humans evolved, yet trace descendants still exist, either theories are lies, or fables perpetuated myth. no attachment though still serenity, perturbation minimal though of alas plenty. to close, simply cease, desist continuing, just may find a lasting peace.
10.28.2006
10.25.2006
- in the name of Allah -
I rode a black steed on my way toward a darkened sky where the sun never shone, but before the wind could carry away my fear something pulled back inside, and shadow failed once again. What crossing is there for me to seek, what bridge between now and then that I've yet to meet? Why do I feel as if I'm searching for a piece of glass in a sea of sand? They're both the same but different in my hand. Maybe reflections of moments past is what I long for, only too conscience with the realization of which door they're behind. Certainty is rare, tranquility a buried gem, can't find a thing, can barely see the path I've done. Words becoming impossible to string together, a thinning rope I can't hold onto alone forever.
I rode a black steed on my way toward a darkened sky where the sun never shone, but before the wind could carry away my fear something pulled back inside, and shadow failed once again. What crossing is there for me to seek, what bridge between now and then that I've yet to meet? Why do I feel as if I'm searching for a piece of glass in a sea of sand? They're both the same but different in my hand. Maybe reflections of moments past is what I long for, only too conscience with the realization of which door they're behind. Certainty is rare, tranquility a buried gem, can't find a thing, can barely see the path I've done. Words becoming impossible to string together, a thinning rope I can't hold onto alone forever.
10.23.2006
- in the name of Allah -
Indeed, it is over. Whats been different now from times past? Now has no meaning, now has lost its glitz, its shine, its allure. Innocence and naivete made things so easy to follow along without having to find purpose in the moment. Lose those two, and every time you try going somewhere, you ask yourself why, how, if it really matters. Sometimes, we reach the wrong conclusions, becoming limited by our own selves. It seems so significant that I feel physically sick, probably because of it. Inconsistencies between the soul and mind, between desire and need, become physically manifested when it becomes that big a deal. So what needs are there unmet? I am blessed with food, shelter, clothing, a loving family, but yet there remains something elusive missing. As for wants, I ridicule their very notion, so they only receive momentary attention and poof are gone again.
You might say its Islam I'm subconsciously seeking. Thats possible, although there was a time I 'had' it, yet still there was an unmistakable absence of something or other. You might say its a significant other I'm seeking. That wouldn't really be possibly, simply for that fact I've accepted the part I have to play (able to support) before that part of life can come to fruition. Is it possible then, the very thing I have disdained for the longest time, the concept of socialization, could be at the heart of the missingness? The paradox is there. I dislike excessive socializing, preferring a handful of meaning to a bucket of crap. It is true however, many relationships with people I'd formerly been well acquainted with have been broken in time. Is it as simple as reconnecting with kindred spirits? Only time will tell, and inshAllah, before it becomes a thing foregone.
Indeed, it is over. Whats been different now from times past? Now has no meaning, now has lost its glitz, its shine, its allure. Innocence and naivete made things so easy to follow along without having to find purpose in the moment. Lose those two, and every time you try going somewhere, you ask yourself why, how, if it really matters. Sometimes, we reach the wrong conclusions, becoming limited by our own selves. It seems so significant that I feel physically sick, probably because of it. Inconsistencies between the soul and mind, between desire and need, become physically manifested when it becomes that big a deal. So what needs are there unmet? I am blessed with food, shelter, clothing, a loving family, but yet there remains something elusive missing. As for wants, I ridicule their very notion, so they only receive momentary attention and poof are gone again.
You might say its Islam I'm subconsciously seeking. Thats possible, although there was a time I 'had' it, yet still there was an unmistakable absence of something or other. You might say its a significant other I'm seeking. That wouldn't really be possibly, simply for that fact I've accepted the part I have to play (able to support) before that part of life can come to fruition. Is it possible then, the very thing I have disdained for the longest time, the concept of socialization, could be at the heart of the missingness? The paradox is there. I dislike excessive socializing, preferring a handful of meaning to a bucket of crap. It is true however, many relationships with people I'd formerly been well acquainted with have been broken in time. Is it as simple as reconnecting with kindred spirits? Only time will tell, and inshAllah, before it becomes a thing foregone.
10.19.2006
- in the name of Allah -
With ramadhan almost over, one wonders ahead to whats next. Kind of ironic since it seems I made so little of the month while I had the chance, but its this time of year that brings out the most ironically cynic part of me that begs the question (to others) why should these days be any different in terms of how we treat them...though I can myself answer that apparent predicament. These days are different, they feel different, as if theres a light rain on the world, a soothing rain that brings a little peace to me, if only I had motive to seek it out. So to what end were these last 30 or so days coming soon to a close? Truly, only Allah knows His wisdom; humanity plays out its part and comes to know sometimes too late. Interesting to note, but I think that even if people knew or could know what really was to come tomorrow, they would still make the same mistakes over again. Which brings us to the point, how exactly humanity is defined, how it will define itself, how the just are seperate from the injust, and so on.
In any case, after a recent postulation from a friend regarding my own search of a passion, the answer hit that same night..what have I done all throughout my life, when times have been rough to when they've been idyllic? Poetry. As off as it may have been, thats the utensil I use in spilling the guts out my mind, of finding light at the end of narrower and narrower tunnels. And so, encore it goes.
a passion pruned, a mystery mourned, awoke the stargazer to find the world's been scorned. the planet spinned on its axis faster than he could have imagined, yet time lay still, a throbbing heart waiting for its moment of ashes. where were the spellbooks, the potions, the magicks of magic past? just when it mattered most, his lofty reverie failed him and it all came to crash. dull thuds and torrential knocks, reality's visitation was one he'd pay heed to else revoke his sanity to thoughts within a prison locked. the door of senses slowly open creaked, haunting memories in tow, for just another grave of dreams. no funeral, no tears, no black garb, only many needless fears laid to rest. though the coffins may never close, their runes are silent- in place of vigils, a darkened rose. there is no aftermath, no going back to the scene, fate stole the gazer's lines, leaving him speechlessly serene. its not often that an actor finds purpose from an unknown script, but when the roads are finally built, its hard not to appreciate what is.
With ramadhan almost over, one wonders ahead to whats next. Kind of ironic since it seems I made so little of the month while I had the chance, but its this time of year that brings out the most ironically cynic part of me that begs the question (to others) why should these days be any different in terms of how we treat them...though I can myself answer that apparent predicament. These days are different, they feel different, as if theres a light rain on the world, a soothing rain that brings a little peace to me, if only I had motive to seek it out. So to what end were these last 30 or so days coming soon to a close? Truly, only Allah knows His wisdom; humanity plays out its part and comes to know sometimes too late. Interesting to note, but I think that even if people knew or could know what really was to come tomorrow, they would still make the same mistakes over again. Which brings us to the point, how exactly humanity is defined, how it will define itself, how the just are seperate from the injust, and so on.
In any case, after a recent postulation from a friend regarding my own search of a passion, the answer hit that same night..what have I done all throughout my life, when times have been rough to when they've been idyllic? Poetry. As off as it may have been, thats the utensil I use in spilling the guts out my mind, of finding light at the end of narrower and narrower tunnels. And so, encore it goes.
a passion pruned, a mystery mourned, awoke the stargazer to find the world's been scorned. the planet spinned on its axis faster than he could have imagined, yet time lay still, a throbbing heart waiting for its moment of ashes. where were the spellbooks, the potions, the magicks of magic past? just when it mattered most, his lofty reverie failed him and it all came to crash. dull thuds and torrential knocks, reality's visitation was one he'd pay heed to else revoke his sanity to thoughts within a prison locked. the door of senses slowly open creaked, haunting memories in tow, for just another grave of dreams. no funeral, no tears, no black garb, only many needless fears laid to rest. though the coffins may never close, their runes are silent- in place of vigils, a darkened rose. there is no aftermath, no going back to the scene, fate stole the gazer's lines, leaving him speechlessly serene. its not often that an actor finds purpose from an unknown script, but when the roads are finally built, its hard not to appreciate what is.
10.13.2006
- in the name of Allah -
I imagine on this breezy chill of a fall afternoon, how it must be for countless numbers of people around the world, people who do not contend with their own selves as foes, but rather must face the harsh realities around them, battling hunger, poverty, strife as often they have time for breath. Their challenge is outside for them, in plain sight, but by no means as easy as seeing the obstacle. I compare that to myself, one who's greatest obstacle in life thus far has been his own mind, his own nafs. There have few, if any necessities, of which I have been deprived, and almost as few wants I have not had fulfilled along the way. Is my journey any easier or any more difficult than those who haven't homes or whose children have been lost in senseless conflict? I can't imagine it is. My only hope is that rather than becoming enamored in my own difficulties, I should join those select few who give a damn about the rest of the world and strive every day to bring it tangible peace, peace not hidden in cloaks of supposed democracy, but peace in plates of hot food, in bottles of clean drink, and perhaps most importantly, in rejoined pieces of families broken apart.
I imagine on this breezy chill of a fall afternoon, how it must be for countless numbers of people around the world, people who do not contend with their own selves as foes, but rather must face the harsh realities around them, battling hunger, poverty, strife as often they have time for breath. Their challenge is outside for them, in plain sight, but by no means as easy as seeing the obstacle. I compare that to myself, one who's greatest obstacle in life thus far has been his own mind, his own nafs. There have few, if any necessities, of which I have been deprived, and almost as few wants I have not had fulfilled along the way. Is my journey any easier or any more difficult than those who haven't homes or whose children have been lost in senseless conflict? I can't imagine it is. My only hope is that rather than becoming enamored in my own difficulties, I should join those select few who give a damn about the rest of the world and strive every day to bring it tangible peace, peace not hidden in cloaks of supposed democracy, but peace in plates of hot food, in bottles of clean drink, and perhaps most importantly, in rejoined pieces of families broken apart.
10.11.2006
- in the name of Allah -
alas, time never ceases. things we take for granted often come back to us when we least expect them. alh, a calc quiz went well today, a first in that class. I wonder where communism went bad, maybe it was the lure of power and money? who knows.
few words left to speak as the mind finds its niche in the land of peace, though trifles arent so trifling when creditors and hurricane winds are both at the front door knocking, wanting a piece of your pie slice. with only crumbs left in crisis, how will you feed the wolves of fate and greed? there almost no easy answers, no shortcuts short enough, no solution without a method lost in the annals of collected dust. it all comes full circle as you either put the jigsaw puzzle together or lay mired in trenches of what's already been done. along the way of this tumultuous path, is there time to smell the roses, time to seek out sweet scents past the fences everyone's holding? maybe there's time to climb one or two, just in case those souls carry traces of Jannah's musk and need a little trust to be carried on through. its true there are no portals to sucess or happiness, but taken a bit at a time, you can build a monument of prosperity from shards of indigenously cynical reality. all it requires is time and some TLC, a little motivation, and love for Allah in large quantities.
alas, time never ceases. things we take for granted often come back to us when we least expect them. alh, a calc quiz went well today, a first in that class. I wonder where communism went bad, maybe it was the lure of power and money? who knows.
few words left to speak as the mind finds its niche in the land of peace, though trifles arent so trifling when creditors and hurricane winds are both at the front door knocking, wanting a piece of your pie slice. with only crumbs left in crisis, how will you feed the wolves of fate and greed? there almost no easy answers, no shortcuts short enough, no solution without a method lost in the annals of collected dust. it all comes full circle as you either put the jigsaw puzzle together or lay mired in trenches of what's already been done. along the way of this tumultuous path, is there time to smell the roses, time to seek out sweet scents past the fences everyone's holding? maybe there's time to climb one or two, just in case those souls carry traces of Jannah's musk and need a little trust to be carried on through. its true there are no portals to sucess or happiness, but taken a bit at a time, you can build a monument of prosperity from shards of indigenously cynical reality. all it requires is time and some TLC, a little motivation, and love for Allah in large quantities.
10.05.2006
- in the name of Allah -
my cat
he looked into my eyes with a little suspicion, a little bit of wonder, a little bit of why, scars and scratches seemed to count off the tally of fate without even a shadow's glimpse of the love underneath. funny how sometimes we reach and we clutch for the very things we so easily push away, how every one of our wants become musts, how distant possibilities become certainties in league with our distrust. we seek power fame and acceptance but none of those things bring love without a whirlstorm of regrettable penance. maybe if our walls fall down for just a split second's time, we can open our eyes and see beyond the colorless blinds that impede sight and progress of time; maybe if we stop battling the tides and instead rejuvenate the truth, it just might overcome the haze of lies and spread the hand of innocence and vision lost early on in youth.
my cat
he looked into my eyes with a little suspicion, a little bit of wonder, a little bit of why, scars and scratches seemed to count off the tally of fate without even a shadow's glimpse of the love underneath. funny how sometimes we reach and we clutch for the very things we so easily push away, how every one of our wants become musts, how distant possibilities become certainties in league with our distrust. we seek power fame and acceptance but none of those things bring love without a whirlstorm of regrettable penance. maybe if our walls fall down for just a split second's time, we can open our eyes and see beyond the colorless blinds that impede sight and progress of time; maybe if we stop battling the tides and instead rejuvenate the truth, it just might overcome the haze of lies and spread the hand of innocence and vision lost early on in youth.