One day (she'll come by)

One day she’ll cross paths with me, one day, God Willing

The sun will soon sooth my skin as I stare, but I’ll be too scared to speak,

Weak, as I question the cheek of questioning her eyes

Rivalling the clear blue skies

She’ll walk past that memory will last

Imprinted in conscious thought….

She’ll arrive like an asteroid and leave a void

As I’ll fight with my self’s self

She’ll smile, so bright, that light will overcome an eclipse,

A smile that sucks your words into a stutter

To scared to utter: s-o-r-r-y wha..What’s yo-u-r name?

Confidence evident, her beauty will be unrepentant

Like white fluffy clouds forming a mount to match Snowdon

Like roses blossoming without the thorn

Like freedom, like peace, like justice

Sheer beauty of the mind; no face no race, no beholder

The sun will clash with my iris as my mind and heart

Will be in occupation with something, some say a virus.

Silence.

I wish to sail the seas of love I’ll say,

Then get told it’s just a cheap cliché

I’ll step up, trying to be brave, unshackling the boyhood shackles of adolescence,

Comprehending the sense,

I just want to be friends, I say in my mind.

Carefully treading so as not to disease by heart with desires.

You see if my deen was a queen I must find her, and if desire is the fire I must

Extinguish it.

Then I’ll step up and say…

 ‘For you I’d line up the stars as a consolation and line up memories of us into a constellation.

I’d commit to truthful love and eternal bliss, trust, soul’s intertwined, combined, lined, not defined, for you’d I’d take that risk.

I’ll say it without fear attempting to sound like a modern day Shakespeare with all the metaphorical, exquisite, linguistic poetic devices my brain could muster.

And she’ll reject.  Humbly say no to my superficial phrases,

Not fazed because then I’ll know, that’s her.

And One day, she'll cross paths with me, God Willing. 

By Mohamed-Zain Dada

Twitter: @Zainthepoet

Articles: www.times-series.co.uk/blogs/mohamed_zain_dada

Be like a Candle

Be Like a candle…

Light up faces with a smile

And spread warmth when you walk,

Speak purity all the while

And beauty when you talk

He told me be like a Candle,

The flip side of a sandal or

flip flops when it hits the dust

Knowledge merely a particle

as we promote trust

And expect nothing in return,

Each day passes we earn and learn

Don’t count your blessings..

Store them..

Be like a candle,

selfless like an anti-consumerist society,

Shelf-less

Don’t be restless, patience, control your mind

Hasten.

Rather than chasing 360 and get called dizzee

Be like a candle,

Noor in the darkness,

Sense amongst the senseless,

Like the only ethnic in the census

Direction for the headless

We’re Chickens on the coup,

Fear, as we wait for the military coo

Don’t be scared

Throw your shoe at a dictator. Mubarak

Give like a candle gives light,

Live the way your soul deserves to live

Be a freedom writer, free-writer, free runner

Keep your candle alight, don’t survive,

Fight from an unjust night to a blessed dawn

treasure time, the wick will waste away

As the drummer's kick will awake us one day

Dormant to suffering 

like a volcano lacking heat

conceit 

don't let the wax that moulds us

control us,

don't let hope melt

I repeat

we fly, not spiritually like Rumi

merely physically. over countries.

not hearts.

We have the potential to bring warmth to every human enveloped by darkness

Just like a candle.

The potential to bring a smile to those enveloped by pain

Just like a candle

The potential to conquer hearts which are enslaved

Just like a Candle

But eventually

Our light and warmth will turn to smoke and

Ascend to judgement

From tar filled smog to a beautiful incense

All depending on the intent

Before that unexpected, unknown end,

Simply, Be Like a Candle. 

By Mohamed-Zain Dada, poet and writer: www.times-series.co.uk/blogs/mohamed_zain_dada

Twitter: @Zainthepoet

VIDEO COMING SOON! 

The Quest to Peace

This poem was inspired by a book called: Purification of the Heart translated by Hamza Yusuf.  The book is based on a poem called purification of the hearts translated from Arabic by Imam Mawlud from Mauritania in West Africa.  

'If you want to change the world, do not begin by rectifying the outward, instead, change the condition of the inward.'  Hamza Yusuf

The Quest to Peace

On a quest to peace,

Wearing a superficial fleece screaming: ‘free my people!’

But who are my people again?

I’m trying to change the world before I change myself

I’m trying to change the world before I change myself

How’s that gonna work?

I told science I’ve seen a black hole

Bigotry is contaminating the soul

Arrogance and ignorance going

Hand in hand forming something called an ego, ready to expand

Socially conditioned like moths hitting the same flame,

Rust on our minds like a broken bike chain.

The path to truth will get me that peace

Fire missiles with wordplay I’m acting in self-defence

No sense, your two cents is not appreciated Regev

Trying to maim verbally a political Rumi

Leaking like a WikiLeak or a spiritual Sufi

He Put a knife to my throat and said ‘gimme your inner gold.’    I said I just have a blackberry, and its not even the bold

Trying to steal my soul and hold my heart hostage

Trying to steal my soul and hold my heart hostage

Language spoken in the dialect of hate not love

crimes of war and humanity influenced by envy, anger and greed

as politicians plant the neo-colonialist seed

Tyrants say its for your own good

they say: War is peace and slavery is freedom

They say: there is truth behind the lies and lies behind the truth,

They say: Shallowness is in, Modesty is a sin
 and burqa bans are soooooooo 2010

Now days justice starts with a conjunction and its ‘in’

In ‘justice’ like a sickly cough tickling our throat, and the medicine is in our hearts.

Before I find my mirror I need to find myself

I’m trying to change myself before I change this world,

Im trying to change myself before I change this world.

 ..............................................................................................

 By Mohamed-Zain Dada - Poet and Writer: www.times-series.co.uk/blogs/mohamed_zain_dada

Twitter: @Zainthepoet http://twitter.com/#!/Zainthepoet

Inspiration

I once thought of inspiration as an emotion.

Guidance of creativity from another reality.

The whispers of an unseen spirit.

When words spill poison,

spread disease and utter confusion.

Is it the unseen dark shadows of your mind

that your heart,

the chamber of emotions,

container of your soul,

is listening to?

Whereas when at peace,

and smooth, soft, swift, sympathetic words swirl into being.

Who gifts you with those?

When the heart aches and the grey clouds fill the horizon,

is it only perception that causes painful suffering?

For behind every grey cloud is there not a blue sky?

How can your eyes see truth when the heart is veiled by darkness?

Alhamdulil'ah. My Lord has lifted that burden.

Can you now not see that you are blessed?

By Adil Hossenally.

Panic

What danger lurks within emotions of the human heart...

So fragile, so easy to pull apart

These profound emotions find no rest

They Pulsate mercilessly against the chest

Disturbing the sleep with their rhythmic blows

Flooding the mind with thoughts overflowed

They reside in the heart, to the world,unknown

Emotionally overpopulated chamber, ready to implode

No more escape through imaginary seduction

Reality is here to devastate your fictitious conception

Mental stability is now in critical condition.

Breathe.

By Zibz Hilwa, Talented Poet and Photographer