poemz on death,shade and tearz

A VIEW OF DEATH

by Nadeem Tusneem

It was a day of cutting sadness and endless sorrow.
Outside, a grayish mist under a somber sky hid a street,
Leading to a gentle home, whose door I peered through,
To catch a glimpse of the turmoil coming from within;
A home once packed with energy and vigor
Now flooded with melancholic rivers of tears;
I stared at the ghostlike face of the woman lying on the cot;
A woman, once full of life, now as cold as a winter's chill,
Surrounded by those who admired and loved her;
The aura around her sending rays of sadness into my heart,
Unearthing from my childhood, the precious memories of her
And as I thought and thought in a mindless trance
I saw the Angel of Death bowing before her,
Tears coming out of his lustrous eyes
That life so precious as hers, he had to take
"Please, don't take her," the words whispered out of my mouth;
But he managed to bring himself together and flew away
Taking her soul into the higest heavens in the sky
My heart sunk, as tears flooded out of my eyes
And my eyes simply stared into the dismal sky.



MY SHADE

by Khadija Javed

You wonder what my shade is,
What it represents.
Call me anything;
An extremist, a fundamentalist,
Anything you desire.
I don't care.

My shade is
My protection
from this evil world,
from roaming eyes,
from diseased hearts.
Call me anything;
Vain or
Submissive.
don't care.

My shade is
My Protection
of my beauty,
reserved for one
special gift
that God has given me;
My Life Partner.

This world
is but a fleeting moment
about to end
at Any Time.
The Signs are here.
The Day of Judgement is coming.
No one will enter my grave with me except
My body, my heart, my soul.

Call me a pessimist,
Distressed,
Repressed,
Oppressed,
I don't care.

My shade
Covers me
Like a tree from the sun;
Like a coat of wax
on your shiny new sportscar.

My shade
My protection,
is my Khimaar,
I am a woman of Islaam.



THE TEARS NEVER DID STOP

by Shazah Sabuhi

I set my foot inside the Holy Mosque,
Upon the cold, white marble, Where day and night, People
sat worshipping, praying,
The tears never did stop.

Right and left, the Mosque being cleaned,
Shining, not a particle of dust, The carvings of marble, the plates of gold,
The symmetry of the whole Mosque, the largest of it all,
The tears never did stop.

Then came the grandest of the whole,
The center of one's life and concerns, The big, Beautiful House of Allah,
Covered with black cloth and gold leaf writing,
The tears never did stop

My life flashed past me, the good and the bad,
such a feeling I had never felt before,
A special bondage to the Almighty-A sudden chill in me,
The tears never did stop

Looking around, the large floor was filled with people,
Circling the beautiful house, loudly chanting,
People sitting, praying for forgiveness,
Praying for another chance to lead a better life,
The tears never did stop

Taking a deep breath, I entered the never ending crowd,
With my heart pouring out all the prayers I could think of,
Begging for forgiveness of my sins, Praying to become a better individual
The tears never did stop

I ran around the black house,
The ancient, black house built by Ibrahim centuries ago,
Where not one second passes when people are not circling it, praying,
The tears never did stop

I got closer as did my heart, mind and soul,
I touched the sacred house, hands trembling,
Knowing I was as close as ever to the Almighty,
The tears never did stop

It was amazing, everyone centered their attention only on worshipping
All worldly concerns forgotten, focused on praying,
Forgetting everydah matters and happenings,
The tears never did stop

The rituals were tiring, took strength and time,
But what is a few hours for our Giver? Our Creator?
For what He has given us, the worldly goods, the luxuries,
A few hours of forgiveness for our sins,
The tears never did stop.