Thursday, March 30, 2006

Close Your Eyes and Imagine

The Grave
Just close your eyes and imagine,
You have just one more day to live
One more day to show Allah,
What "Jannah" he should give?

To say goodbye to your family,
And all your closest friends;
To ask for forgiveness,
And try to make amends;

Just close your eyes and imagine,
Did you miss a prayer or two?
Did you please Allah, and do the things,
He asks every Muslim to do?

Just close your eyes and imagine,
Tomorrow you will be gone;
No more second chances,
To smell the mist of dawn;

Just close your eyes and imagine,
The angels are going to come,
To take your soul and ask,
In your life "what have you done"?

Just close your eyes and imagine,
The words you want to say;
Will not come out you may realize,
For all your deeds you'll pay;

You want to speak out, to cry out,
In Allah I believe;
But, silence beckons you,
No more can u deceive;

Just close your eyes and imagine,
Finally,>Your silence breaks away;
You tell the angels you believe in Allah,
And for him, you did pray;

You say as tears are pouring down your face
Please, Allah, forgive me,
For the sins that I committed,
Have mercy is my plea!

Just close your eyes and imagine,
That the smell of musk surrounds you,
From your head down to your feet;
You realize Allah forgave you,
Hell fire you did defeat;

But we all know as Muslims,
When it's time for you to die;
You'll not be given a second chance,
To say a last goodbye;

So live each day as If it's your last,
And never forget to pray;
So when the angels come to ask,
You'll know the words to say.

Monday, March 27, 2006

Muslim Girls


You got a scarf on your head
But jeans that stick to your skin
Your stomach is revealed
You’re into the SIN

When asked what you are
Your culture you name
Muslim don’t cross your tongue
What a pity what a shame!

You take pride in the tops
That reveals your back
Cleavage not an issue
It’s with the pack

Now it’s fashion to wear the scarf
In the way you do
Julia Stiles did it in save the last dance
Now you should too!

Your hair it is styled
With the gel and the mouse
You got the hip hugging jeans
With the matching shoes

You wake up at dawn
To apply your face
So guys can pick you up
What a disgrace!

You infuriated girl
Hit the road of the west
Your born in the truth
But you observe the rest

You do the dating scene
And the kissing guys
You think they’re the world
Open your eyes

Encouraging Muslim boys
To do the same?
But it’s all-good,
With the Muslim name

At least he is Muslim
That’s what your friends say
Encouraging a ummati
In the same way

Your life revolves around him
Your heart it does the dance
Pitiful are you
Within haram romance


Life doesn’t travel
Farther than the grave
It’ll pass you faster
If the world you crave

You think your getting educated
When you hit the school
But they’re playing you like puppets
You’re the fool

And those who do fear god
Those whom you tease
When you toss in the flames
They’ll cool in the breeze

Don’t you love the prophet?
Who was stoned for you?
Whose last words were for us?
Who came with the truth

The mothers of believer
Who cast their gaze down?
The best of the women
Upon you they would frown

Disgusting girl
have some shame within you
While they cast their gaze down,
you stare right through

While they feared Allah,
the alone the True
You think the only problem
is if people see you

What would my parents say,
will I be allowed out again
Society will gossip,
it’ll be the end

But little do you assume
about the end that is near
And if only your death
and Allah you fear

But you know the truth,
there’s only so much I can say
And the guilt only lasts
before you go back to the way

So before you turn back and to parties you attend
There is one small thing I do recommend

No matter where you go and what you decide to do
Just remember that Allah is always around you

Fear him more than being “caught” fear him there
And when you start to realize, then you’ll start to care

And the rest of the girls will disgust you true
If it worked for me it can work for you

Taste the sweetness of the veil and cover up well
And make the hereafter your eternity in Jannah you’ll dwell

So take off the shamelessness, throw off the nudity
Be a Muslimah stand proud most of all as an ummati!

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Wake up to the Call of Islaam

Wake up to the Call of Islaam
by Nizaam Hussain

O Muslims, wake up to the call of Islaam
O muslims, search your heart for the true Imaan

Is your Salaat, Zakaat, Sawm, Hajj what it should be?
If so, then why are you in so much difficulty?

Nay, but you have not understood the depth of Imaan
Nay, but you have not understood the teachings of the Qur'aan

Has He not made you the best of creation?
Has He not fulfilled your wants without your supplication?

Think and Ponder
Surely, He will make you wonder

Is your love for Him alone?
Is your fear for Him alone?

Nay, but you have falsified, and loved and feared every other created soul
Is your trust in Him alone?

Is your obedience to Him alone?
Nay, but you have falsified, you trusted and obeyed those that use you the most

Look around you, slaughter, slander and rape
When they come to your door, just like death, they won't wait

No entreaty of vow can be taken except Allah's alone
Love Him, fear Him, trust Him, obey Him, and fight for Him
Surely He will put you on the throne.

Source: Riyadhul Jannah, vol 4 no 1 Dec '94

Sunday, March 19, 2006

The Tongue

Behind enamel blocks, therein it lies,
It moves in all directions clock and anti-clockwise
If used correctly, it can cause ranks to rise
But shooting without aiming could lead to your demise.

A small piece of flesh without a bone in sight,
It can cure friendship and also incite fights,
Then cowardly behind your teeth, safely it sits tight
And YOU get a jab and a hook from the right.

It bears witness about Allah and His Prophets
The hereafter is where you’ll see the real profits
It remembers Allah plentiful, but think nothing of it
It recites the Quran wonderful, so start and you’ll love it.

It also has a bitter side If it boasts and talks with pride,
You’ve backbitten if you speak but hide It’s called slander if you lied,
Abusive language leaves eyes wide
Make an effort, make truth your bride.

“He who keeps quite, gains salvation”
“Backbiting is worse than fornication”
That’s our Prophet’s declaration
Please take into consideration
Take time out for contempletion About Allah, Lord of all creation.

It recites Quran to gain reward,
Use it for speeches, make it your sword.
Anything that will please the Lord,
To waste precious time, that we can’t afford.

With Allah's name begin your day,
Remember Him while you work or play Keep evil doings out of your way
On the straight path you will stay.
If it sings, change it to nasheeds Pick up an Islamic book to read.

Most important repeat your creed,
For the Hereafter sow your seed For that day you’l need every good deed.
Use it to supplicate, use it to repent
At the All-Mighty’s doorstep, drop and lament
Solely for worship is why we were sent

Let not Satan be an impediment
And keep Allah’s remembrance immanent.
Keep Muslims safe from its attack
Be they red or be they black Disunity is the biggest drawback

So keep the unity free from slack Oh Allah!
Keep us on the straight track.
Its correct usage whoso guarantees
And of that between his knees.

The Prophet will make certain he sees
Our entry into Paradise with ease.
A humble effort, not a song
An attempt to pass a message on It can do good, it can do wrong
This poem was about the Tongue.

Friday, March 17, 2006

Us and Them

Us and Them
By Masood

Out of the oceans of their virtues,
my pen's ink only drops a few.
Only a fleeting glimpse
of the Sahabah's greatness is in this poem to view.

Abbaad bin Bishr was getting shot with arrows,
yet he still didn't want to break his salat.
Who are we compared to him?
We complain when the room we pray in is a little hot.

Our Masaajid are empty,
even though we drive fancy Cadillacs.
The Sahabah went to the Masjid for every prayer,
even though many had no cloths on their backs.

The Kuffar put massive rocks
on Bilal's chest in the burning dessert sun,
All he said was "Ahad, Ahad"
and from Islam he did not run.

They strove in the path of Allah,
doing Jihad even in the fierce dessert heat.
Who are we compared to them?
We can hardly make it to the Masjid right down the street!

Sumayyah loved Allah
and for that the kuffar speared her most private part.
She was the first shaheed of our ummah,
to the end she had true love of Allah in her heart.

Who are we next to Sumayyah?
We hide our faith in fear of being teased.
We get a little laugh from a kaffer,
and we turn away from Allah displeased.

Khabbab bin Alarat was burnt on hot coals until his blood put out the heat.
How ashamed should we be?
While listening to a khutbah,
we find it hard to just stay on our seats.

Most of them were starving,
but this didn't keep them away from any part of the deen.
We have tons of rice and lamb,
but nonetheless, in us, Islam can hardly be seen.

Mus'ab Ibn Umair's hands were both severed when he was the flag bearer,
yet with his bloody forearms, he still kept the flag up high.
Yet how is our condition?
We can barely even give dawwah because we feel too shy!

If even the breeze grew a little stronger,
they would go to the Masjid fearing that it may be the last day.
Do we even notice what's going on around us,
or are we too busy thinking of our weekly pay?

Abu Bakr gave all of his wealth
for Allah in His path.
Though if we were asked to do this,
we would probably laugh.

Out of their fear of Allah,
they had tear stains on their cheeks.
Out of our love of the dunyah,
we stay away from the Masjid and go shopping in the boutiques.

After being captured in Jihad,
Ibn Hudhafah was glad that he might be boiled alive.
Yet what about us?
For Allah, many just frown when they are asked to strive.

This noble man cried in pleasure
that he might be boiled alive for Allah!
Next to him we seem like hypocrites, or worse,
many of us don't even do our salah!

Even when Umar was khalifah,
his clothes still had many tears.
Yet when we have even the littlest job,
we end up with many clothes that we don't even wear.

They established the empire of Islam,
they spread the deen throughout all the lands.
Yet when it comes to us,
we have trouble obeying the simplest of Allah's commands.

Aisha was thirsty for knowledge,
she was one of our greatest scholars.
She was busy searching for wisdom,
yet we're busy searching for dollars.

With it's last drops of ink,
this poem is coming to an end.
But before I let you go,
there is one thing that I do recommend:

We can sit around and talk,
we can reminisce about them with much ease.
But unless we actually try to be like the Sahabah,
our words just drift away with the breeze.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

In your mates car

In your mates car
by Ahmed

In your mates car
Thoughts from Islam so far

Listening to the stereo, loud tune
Behaving like a silly baboon

Eyeing the girls as you go by
Practising Muslims despise you, my oh my

You pull over to a girl and use your line
'Baby, baby, come be mine'

Ignorant that you have invited her to sin
The slippery road for you does begin

For what seems like fun
Simply means Satan has won

Ensnared into a world of wrong by the devil
Girls, Alcohol, drugs is this your aspired level?

Satan has lured you away
From Allah and the Prophets (pbuh) way

But hey whilst you are alive there is still time
To turn to & worship Allah, even in your prime

Turn away from this, quit behaving like slime
Repent to Allah, the Forgiving, Most Sublime.

Thursday, March 09, 2006


As I rise each day
Al-Hamdulillah I say
As I put on my dress
Al-Hamdulillah I express

As I fill my empty plate
Al-Hamdulillah I state
As I make ready to strive
Al-Hamdulillah for another day alive

As I hear the birds sing
Al-Hamdulillah for the melody they bring
As I watch the sun rise
Al-Hamdulillah for my eyes

As I wash in the stream
Al-Hamdulillah I am clean
As I pray my Salat
Al-Hamdulillah for the best start

As I share my gifts with neighbours
Al-Hamdulillah for Allah's favours
As I delight with my family
Al-Hamdulillah for their care for me

As I pray for forgiveness
Al-Hamdulillah for deliverance
As I open the Qur'an
Al-Hamdulillah for my Iman

As I understand and take heed
Al-Hamdulillah, Al-Hamdulillah
For all the good I receive.

Ayesha Bint Mahmood

Monday, March 06, 2006

A Boy Called MO

This is the story of a Muslim named Mo.
It’s a symbolic story that many of us may know.

He was born in a Muslim family but they were weak in the Deen.
He was a lovely child, he was more precious then anything you've seen.
He grew up so quick; it was just a flash before his parent’s eyes.
They didn't get to teach him about Islam. You know how the time just flies.
Before they knew it, they were sending him off to school.
They were so happy; he shined like a precious little jewel.

He was taught that he was a Muslim, but that's about all he knew.
He wanted to know more but his dad had way too many things to do.
He had cute little cheeks; they turned rosy as he got tired.
He was a handsome little guy, he was always admired.

But with his parents so busy, he never got to learn about Allah.
The days passed by and his parents never taught him how to do Salaah.
Some more years passed by, and by now his voice began to change.
He felt new emotions, and he liked them, even though they felt strange.

His dad finally took him one day to some Islamic Sunday school.
But he had already learned from his friends that religion just wasn't cool.
Time past by and the little man grew older.
With the passage of time his temper became bolder.

His mother was getting worried, he was found to be ditching school.
But she didn't say anything, or else his temper would flare up like fuel.
He would go to parties and come home all drunk.
And in some of his classes he was now beginning to flunk.
Her cute little rosy cheeked child had become a wild young man.

She cried every night because teaching him Islam was never in her plan.
He met a pretty girl named Rose; he thought he loved her for sure.
She noticed how he felt, so she asked him to go out with her.
He thought it was love at first sight; she kissed him on the first date.
But she just wanted to sleep with him, yet to that he had no debate.

He would go out all night with her, sometimes without even saying good-bye.
"Why didn't I show him the Deen?" His father could only cry.
He kept on partying while his family kept on weeping.
And he met other girls, and with them too he was also sleeping.

He started to look sick, and he wasn't really feeling so good.
His mother just had to cry, he didn't look like the way he should.
He went to the doctor for what he thought was a cold.
"Young man, you've got AIDS," is what he was told.

When his mom found out she just couldn't take the pain.
For not teaching him his Deen, she knew she was to blame.
Mo got sicker and you could see him getting weaker day by day.
And he didn't know Allah, so to Him he never prayed.
What could she do now for her once precious little guy?
She knew he needed the Deen, but now she could only cry.

His time came one day so the Angel came for his spirit.
His dad told him to say la ilaha illalah, but Mo didn't hear it.
"What's that dad? I can't seem to hear you, everything's going dull."
But before Mo ever heard it, the Angel was off with his soul.
His father fell to his knees and cried like he never did before.
He knew he should have taught him the Deen, so he felt guilty to the core.

This is the story of little Mo. Lets not let it be the story of our kid's situation.
So Please My Brothers And Sisters, Take This DEEN To The Next Generation!!!