Lailatul Qadr

By Halimat Shode

A blessed night in which angels descend,
A special month for good deeds to ascend,
The night is still,
You feel a chill,
The month of mercy is close to an end

A prayer mat set
Peace in your heart,
As you reflect on the deeds
You’ve gained from the start,

Prepare to benefit,
From the bounties of your Lord,
An odd day it falls upon
Hasten for the reward!

Fasting

There's a hidden sweetness
in the stomach's emptiness.

We are all lutes, no more, no less.
If the soundbox is stuffed full of anything, no music.

If the brain and the belly are burning clean
with fasting, every moment a new song comes

out of the fire. The fog clears, and a new energy
makes you run up the steps in front of you.

Be emptier and cry like reed instruments cry.
Emptier, write secrets with the reed pen.

When you're full of food and drink,
Satan sits where your spirit should,

an ugly metal statue in place of the Kaaba.
When you fast, good habits gather like friends

who want to help. Fasting is Soloman's ring.
Don't give it to some illusion and lose your power.

But even if you've lost all will and control,
they come back when you fast, like soldiers

appearing out of the ground,
pennants flying above them.

Rumi

Tarawih Poem

The azan is beautifully calling the holy souls to come...


resignedly give those heart, those souls, those breath only to The Mighty...

deeply drawn within the Ayahs that amazingly recited...

tears of consciousness fall down...

captures the sins....

a beauty of One's love revived...erases the fear, fills the emptyness...

Inside The Tarawih, I see You

by Yunanti Ratnawati

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honourably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond

-Rumi

Time To Pray

I got up early one morning
And rushed right into the day
I had so much to accomplish
That I didn't have time to pray

Problems just tumbled around me
And heavier became each task
'Why doesn't God help me?' I wondered
He answered, 'You didn't ask.'

I wanted to see joy and beauty
But the day toiled on grey and bleak
I wondered why God didn't show me
He said 'But you didn't seek'

I tried to come into God's presence
I used my key at the lock
God gently and lovingly chided
My servant you didn't knock?

I woke up early this morning
And paused before entering the day
I had so much to accomplish
That I had to take the time to pray!

Gossip

My name is gossip.
I have no respect for justice.
I maim without killing.
I break hearts and ruin lives.

I am cunning and malicious and gather strength with age.
The more I am quoted the more I am believed.
I flourish at every level of society.
My victims are helpless.

They cannot protect themselves against me because I have no face.
To track me down is impossible for you.
The harder you try, the more elusive I become.
I am nobody’s friend.

Once I tarnish a reputation, it is never the same.
I topple governments and wreck marriages.
I ruin careers and cause sleepless nights, heartache and indigestion.
I spawn suspicion and generate grief.

I make innocent people cry in their pillows.
Even my name hisses. I am called Gossip.
Office gossip. Shop gossip. Party gossip. Telephone gossip.
I make headlines and headaches.

Before you repeat a story ask yourself, is it true?
Is it fair? Is it necessary? If not— KEEP IT TO YOURSELF!
If you spend as much time praying as you do talking about others
behind their backs,
you would be further ahead Spiritually.

Author of Gossip poem unknown

Sisters in Islam

No longer shackled by the oppression
of miniskirts and see-thru shirts,
my sisters stand proud.

Covered by cloth and more so by conviction
submission to Allah, they stand apart from the crowd.

The taunts, the jeers, the stares, the leers
Never fazing or dissuading them from following the deen.

Real women they be, the epitome of femininity
strong, secure, complete human beings.

Not slaves to the world of fashion
which is always askin'
for women to dress in as less as they can.

Their hijab is for the sake of Allah
in imaan and taqwa
they refuse to be objectified by man.
Such are my sisters in Islam.

Author unknown

Allah The Creator

How this big earth came to be,
And everything that we see,
Even things in outer space,
Came about by Allah's grace.

How people lived so long ago,
Lessons that we have to know,
And who does Allah love the best,
And why He puts us all to test.

How He makes the raindrops fall,
And what about the tree so tall,
What about the plants that grow,
And reasons for the wind to blow.

How about the oceans wide,
And different animals that we ride,
Not to mention mountains high,
And the magnificence of the sky.

Find out what we must not do,
Things that are bad for me and you,
Also things that are right,
And how we can all gain insight.

And the nature and the glory,
Unfolds like a beautiful story,
Of Almighty as He talks to you,
Conveying a message pure and true,

Read it up in the Qur`aan,
It will strengthen your Imaan.

By Sister Aisha Teladia (Aged 10) of Birmingham
Source http://www.inter-islam.org/

Final Hour

When shall the time begin
When there's nothing left but sin
When the universe comes to a swoon
And the Beast speaks to man, come noon

When shall the time begin
When one ransoms kith and kin
When Allah's Messenger will descend
And when mountains crumble down as sand

When shall the time begin
When man seems drunk, as if boozed with gin
When Beings crawl out to run
And when from west rises the sun

When shall the time begin
When smoke blends with wind
When the fetus from the womb leaps out
And when the angel does siren aloud

Alas, the time has not begun
Now..... what pious deeds got done.

A poem by Imam Shafi'i

The poem in Arabic:

ولما قسـا قلبي وضـاقت مذاهبي
جعلت الرجـاء مني لعفوك سلمــا
تعاظمني ذنبـي فلمـا قرنتــه
بعفوك ربي كان عـفوك أعظمــا
فما زلتَ ذا عفو عن الذنب لم تزل
تـجـود وتعـفو منة وتكرمـــا
فلولاك لـم يصمـد لإبلـيس عابد
فكيف وقد أغوى صفيك أدما
فيا ليت شعــري هل أصير لجنة
أهنـــا؟ وأمـا للسعير فأندما
فإن تنتـقـم مني فلست بآسي
ولو أدخلت روحي بجــرم جهنمـا
فإن تعف عني تعف عـن متمرد
ظلوم غشــوم قاسي القلب مجرما
ويذكر أيام مضت من شبابه
وما كان فيها بالجهالة أجرما
يقيم إذا ما الليل مد ضلامه
على نفسه من شدة الخوف مأتما
يقول حبيبي أنت سؤلي وغايتي
كفى بك للراجين سؤلا و مغنما
الست الذي غذيتني و هديتني
ولازلت منانا علي ومنعما
عسى من له الإحسان يغفر زلتي
ويستر أوزاري وما قد تقدما

Translation into English:
When my heart hardened and my ways narrowed
My hope of your forgiveness towards You was my approach
I greatened my sin, yet when I compare it with your forgiveness
My Lord your forgiveness was greater
Yet, You forgive sins and still
Generously and gracefully bestow and forgive
Were it not for You, no worshipper would withstand Satan
How and he already has lured your chosen Adam
Alas! Would I be lead to paradise then I am a fortunate
Or a remorse to hell I am lead
Indeed not despaired if You avenged me
Or into the core of hell You brought my soul
And if You forgive me, a mutinous You forgive…
A wrongful unfair pitiless criminal…
He remembers the past youth days
And what crimes of ignorance were committed
Then, when the dark spread out
Fearfully he mourns himself
Saying my beloved You are my request and wish
Sufficient You are for the hopeful to ask and gain
Were not You who fed me and guided me?
And still, You give me generously and bless me
May You, to Whom my charity belongs, forgive me my faults,
Pardon my sins and what came before.

The Prophet of Islam

Unequalled in brilliance, unique of kind,
Art thou, O Great Prophet! to all mankind,
Never on earth a nobler soul has trod,
Never had another showed a true way to God,
Never on earth a better soul was born,
Never the world did a purer soul adorn.

Man was fast sinkin in idolatry and sin,
When thou thy great mission did first begin.
From the arabian deserts thou taught mankind,
How the truest knowledge of God to find,
Then in place of darkness thou light did give,
And taught mankind the noblest way to live.

A more perfect Prophet never can we find,
Than thee who, thank God, gave Islam to mankind,
My life, my all, for thee I gladly give,
Thy divine messages shall with me for ever live,
My love for thee no bounds doth know,
In my heart thy mem'ry shall forever glow,
May Allah shower His choicest blessings on thee,
May Allah grant thee peace for all eternity
Ameen

Advice on Friends

A real friend wishes his companions well,
He's not one who allows them to get close to hell,
Always be careful of the friends you Choose,
So, in the end, Jannah you will not lose,

If you find your companion is not stopping your wrong,
then, be weary, his friendship is not strong.
If you see the pattern made,
that when you are under your friend's shade,

Your Imaan begins to fade,
Leave the worthless creation,
make friends with Allah, Surely that is a high station!.
A dervish who had knowledge of our present situation,
Once told his students the following dictation,

"The meeting of people will never enrich you,
save with the gibberish of useless gossip.
So diminish your meeting with people,
except for knowledge or to improve your condition"

What a Year!

What a year was 570 AD
A person was born, a prophet to be
Muhammed (saws) that was his name
People were misguided and thats when he came

He would go on to leave all the idols behind
He is an example to all of mankind
Rabbi al Awwal the 12th, that was the day
He came to this world to show us the way

He was born in Mecca, the holiest place
A life full of challenges he was to face
Abdullah(ra) his father,had by then passed away
Leaving Amina (ra)his mother, in her arms he lay

Haalima Sadia,took over his care
Until he was six,our prophet was there
His mother then died,he was left all alone
Abdul Muttalib(ra) his grand-dad then made him his own

When our prophet was nine, his grandfather died
Abu Talib, his uncle, became his new guide
In his 20's,a merchant Muhammed (saws) became by trade
Al-Amin,(the trustworthy) became his grade

Hazrat Khadija(ra)aged 40, became his bride
He was 25, with her by his side
To the poor,she gave away all her wealth
A dedicated wife in sickness and health

360 idols in the Kaaba, they were at that time
Our prophet realised that this was a crime
He would go to mount Hira,leaving behind his wife
Reflecting and wondering about the meaning of life

Whilst thinking there in the midst of the night
He heard a loud voice which filled him with fright
It was the angel Gibrail(as) who asked him to read
Our prophet couldn't and didnt take heed

The angel embraced him and thern asked him later
Read, Read in the name of the Creator
Who created man from a drop of blood
Our prophet couldn't read but at that time he could

Our prophet rushed to the path straight ahead
He heard a voice from the heavens which said
Muhammed(saws) truly you are the messenger of God
Muhammed (saws) was scared and thought this quite odd

'Praise be to God' his wife said instead
''I know you've been chosen as God's messenger' she said
And thus Khadija (ra) became the first woman of islam
And over the next 23 years came the revelation, the Quran

He preached to all people, every creed every race
Yet so many hardships he had to face
There were fears for his life,then the Hijrat took place
He then entered Medina, all by Allah's grace

He was greeted by the Ansaris who gave their salaam
To him and his companians,the Sahaba ikram
Then came the battles,which were fought face to face
Then the conquest of Mecca,Muhammed (saws)'s birthplace

An Nasr was revealed, it's message was clear
Muhammed (saws) knew that his time was near
Everyone gathered to hear his last speech
little did they know how far Allah's message would reach

Muhammed (saws) gave us the miracle the Quran
And now a 1/4 of the world follow Islam
He is our role-model, the best of mankind
And has left the Quran and his Sunnah behind

Read the Quran as much as you can
The words of Allah(swt) for the guidance of man
And follow our prophet's sunnah, when eating and dressing
And send him salutations and many a blessing

He came to mankind to show us the way
And Insha-Allah,we'll meet him,we'll meet him one day.

Mercy to All Creation

When the day was lost,
When all else was tossed;
You opened your heart, your hands, your voice,
And for my sake compromise was no choice.

I hold on to your mantle, a grateful gravitation,
For I know till this world's end, your dhikr will be for my salvation.
A mere morsel in a world so vast,
Yet your mercy extends to the last.

A gift from Our Creator you were from the start,
Helping us all to play our part
In this universe with which He us did entrust
So that we may learn to love, believe and be just.

With you as our guide, our nafs we must deny,
For the unveiling will be worth more than Heaven can provide.
Now with this knowledge a responsibility I cannot ignore
For you have taken me to my Ruh's shore.

To continue this journey a witness I must become
In thought, deed and word, I must succumb.
Yet even as I strive your mercy will mean,
I will be guided and helped for you are Rahmatallil ala meen.

Source: islamicpoem.com

The Slave of Wealth

The passionate slave of wealth
ignores his ailing health
Morning and night he toils
trying to Allah's law foil

At night, even till twelve
will he in riba delve
not realising his riba will cause him to bake and broil
and his wealth round him like a serpent will coil

Unmindful of his salaat
never will he with his time part
When the pious at his door knock
he pretends he's a deaf block

Come the time of death, will he realise
the Deen, he should not trivialise

A Smile

A smile is sadaqa,
The Prophet said so.

A smile is sadaqa,
so give to everyone you know.

A smile is sadaqa,
so take one wherever you go.

A smile is sadaqa,
so smile.... you'll be glad you did so!
by Aisha (age 11)

Hijaab

I turn the corner find people looking and staring
Simply because my hair isn’t baring
I wonder why…
I then realise…

Some think I am controlled
Whilst others believe I am uneducated
I wonder why…
I then realise…

These people with these thoughts feel I have no voice
They think being hooded means I have no choice
I wonder why…
I then realise…

People whisper that I am oppressed and rejected
For they do not know I am covered and well respected!
I am not judged by how I look
But the way I speak and my conduct

So while passers by may see me as a reject
I know inside I am perfect
Raheel K, 15. Bradford

The Worlds Latest Addiction

Just six clicks away
from five thousand “friends.”
No clue what today is,
or what’s on CNN.

I should really get dressed,
Or at least shave my pits.
But with all these new friends,
I can’t stop the clicks.

Glued to the screen
like some kind of affliction.
Welcome to Facebook:
the world’s latest addiction.

Five Ways to Kill a Man

There are many cumbersome ways to kill a man.
You can make him carry a plank of wood
To the top of a hill and nail him to it.
To do this
Properly you require a crowd of people
Wearing sandals, a cock that crows, a cloak
To dissect, a sponge, some vinegar and one
Man to hammer the nails home.

Or you can take a length of steel,
Shaped and chased in a traditional way,
And attempt to pierce the metal cage he wears.
But for this you need white horses,
English trees, men with bows and arrows,
At least two flags, a prince and a
Castle to hold your banquet in.

Dispensing with nobility, you may, if the wind
Allows, blow gas at him. But then you need
A mile of mud sliced through with ditches,
Not to mention black boots, bomb craters,
More mud, a plague of rats, a dozen songs
And some round hats made of steel.

In an age of aeroplanes, you may fly
Miles above your victim and dispose of him by
Pressing one small switch. All you then
Require is an ocean to separate you, two
Systems of government, a nation's scientists,
Several factories, a psychopath and
Land that no one needs for several years.

These are, as I began, cumbersome ways
To kill a man. Simpler, direct, and much more neat
Is to see that he lives somewhere in the middle
Of the twentieth century, and leave him there.

-- Edwin Brock

Lets Get Back to Islam

Lets get back to Islam, before the sun goes down,
We never know when we'll be under the mound.

"I'll pray when I get older," That's what they say,
But we might not have even one more day!

Lets get back to Islam, before its too late,
"Aw man, can't I just delay it for another date?"

Times running out, our lives are almost done,
"But brother, I'm too busy having fun."

Lets get back to Islam, Jahannam aint funny,
"Come on man, I'm to busy making money!"

The Quran sits on our shelves and there it picks up dust,
The longer we stay away from it, the more our hearts pick up rust.

Lets get back to Islam, before our lives our gone,
"Not right now, I'm too busy, can't you see I have the TV on!"

There's no time to waste, lets start it now,
come on, for Allah can't you even bow?

Lets get back to Islam, this aint just a song,
"But brother, a few minutes in prayer, that's too long!"

"I'll go on hajj when I'm around fifty-five,"
Come on man, by then will you even be alive?

Lets get back to Islam, lets not waist another day,
"Aw Masood, leave me alone, I just wanna play."

Lets turn back to Allah before we turn to dust,
There's no delaying, bro this is a must!

Lets get back to Islam, for reals, not just with our lips,
Oh Allah make us sincere, so we don't feel Jahannam's whips.

"I think I'll get pious when my hair turns gray."
Come on man, don't wait, we may die any day.

Lets get back to Islam, this aint just another rap,
Its a race to Jennah, and Islam's the only map.


By
Masood