This is a poem about a situation I was in by accident recently. I almost could have been entrapped into marrying a non-Muslim, but did not.
Buttons Square or Round
If it is as it seems
That he was loving me
By loving another woman
Blacker of skin that me
For her to rip me off
On that basis because
Only that he
Was so accustomed to she
Charging him
With being so far too whiter then she
Yet in that same family
Are we all held in our own accountability
That the problem you see
Is far bigger than just she
Or he
Who imagined wrongly
My debt to she
But that he had so been conditioning me
In my Dreaming
To be believing
That he wanted to be with me
When all along
He was just only himself believing
That if his former black girlfriend
Who was in fact perhaps
Acquainted with me
That it could only be
By my debt to she
That he might so in be accountably
Receiving of worth from me
That I will speak no ill of the past
In which I have had no part
Yet that my Dreams have been filled and brimming with
Ever since He
Mistook me
In myself he conversed with
For that black woman I let into my home
As a favour for her to save her
Own family
The situation now critical
Has made an implausible
Yet possible
Leap into the false world in which
Chemical weddings are unfurled
In which my own family
Sold my soul to his people
By having believed
What the black woman’s people
Report of me
That buttons and bows
Might be dealt this blow
For the bare feet I had been wearing
Were in no lawful context able
To be discriminated against
As though defining me alike to
A prostitute
Upon which basis
Have many these families
Fallen aligned with
Only that shaytan
But all in one family
Might we well be
That it falls to me
To correctively
Acquit this story
That the buttons and bows
Of money in flow
Were that in my hair
Is string to bare
Of Babylon’s fare
Will I take you all where
Revelations are real
Today and to feel
In this my account
That is if
It is round
Square and even
And sound
Last edited by Curaezipirid; 08-01-2007 at 02:09 AM.
Within the Realm of King Solomon
Who could have known I was home grown
An accuser's false allegation
Did warrant only my Nation in apology for inconveniences
its shaytan leeches
who accuse
my unconscious sleep
of accusing you too cheep
I will be selling for five times three
centsiblity
Re: A near mistake became a poem: Buttons Sqare or Round . . .
Alhamdulillaah!
Sister I like your poem..a flow of thoughts Mashaa'Allaah.
...I wonder at the one who extends his right hand
To his beloved at the time of seperation and he hastens therein!
I felt weak and incapable of saying farewell when I saw him
So my heart shook his hand whilst my eye wept....
Re: A near mistake became a poem: Buttons Sqare or Round . . .
Subhanallah my skill with causing the self I acquire in word use to truly represent real thought is adept enough that the meaning is not lost upon those whom need it
Salam
Within the Realm of King Solomon
Who could have known I was home grown
An accuser's false allegation
Did warrant only my Nation in apology for inconveniences
its shaytan leeches
who accuse
my unconscious sleep
of accusing you too cheep
I will be selling for five times three
centsiblity
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