Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Burning Desire

Salam 3lykm

I'm back with another poem; this time, you need to be a little more analytical to understand the full meaning behind it. Inclining towards premarital relationships, I decided to 'summarize' what they're all about. Some may agree; some may disagree; and some may agree to disagree - whatever you choose, it would always be nice to see a comment or two. :P

Passion looms thickly in the air
Silence betraying their heartbeats
Her fingers raking through his hair
Fragrances intoxicatingly sweet

Lips dancing together; synchronized
Tongues play-fighting in humidity
A heated embrace having long-denied
Fiery passion, masked by stupidity

Supple skin glistens under the moonlight
Her perfect curves seductively outlined
Resisting carnal desires with all his might
Ravishing her, having clouded his mind

Suddenly wary of the unwelcomed distraction
She gently pulls herself away
'Magnetism' fails to describe their sinful attraction
Deathly orbs now lustfully ablaze

Watching in anger as she slowly shakes her head
Silent tears acknowledge the ugliness of of his soul
His words, like the sand thrown upon the dead
Glowing embers, marking the birth of a 'Black Hole'

I won't add the analysis to this, as it will inhibit your perceptions. It would be great to read different analyses, so if you want..you may try to analyze this. ;D But I know you won't.:P

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh

Sunday, November 28, 2010

The Uncanny Savior - Suicide

Salam 3lykm

Sharing an essay I wrote as an assignment during my last semester. It was supposed to be a distressing experience, and I thought..hmm..an incident from life, shall we? Life when I took a trip to what I like to call, "The Dark Side". It did happen this way. Fortunately or unfortunately. My first suicide attempt. Nothing outta the ordinary. Shay6an takes control when you stray away from Allah.

The Uncanny Savior: Suicide

I stared ahead at the wall in front of me as I tightly pinched the bridge of my nose. Tears welled up in my eyes, as an excruciating pain surged through my heart. No one understood the turmoil I was going through. No one knew that, had I shunned this despicable life I now lived, I was going to turn back into the friendless loner I had always been. I had filled that gaping hole in my life with books; nothing could ever replace books, because reading is what had kept me from plummeting into the outstretched claws of insanity for so long. However, it was also what had led to my becoming a social misfit.

No one was witness to how I would sob my heart out until I had no more tears left to cry. Murderous thoughts began to play on my mind as I tried to push away the heartless taunting and mockery I had been throughout my years at school. I had always been the ‘extremist’; having been brought up in a strictly religious family, I had not known what celebrities were, and had no exposure whatsoever to music or movies until grade 7 or 8. Thus, I had been made fun of and shunned as a ‘religious freak’, and had been left to the mercy of the endless rows of books in our school’s library.

As the taunting got worse, I started becoming more rebellious to hide the pain. I was still a misfit, but instead of a ‘religious freak’, I turned into an outcast. I was daring, and it was not long before the tables were turned on those who would bully me. I got into a few physical fights, but save for a few cuts and bruises, came out unharmed. I was still talked about behind my back, but at least no one had the guts to come up to me and mock me. I had now donned a mask, thus becoming ‘the hypocritical freak’.

I might have been all toughened up on the outside, but I hated myself. The worst part was committing sins despite knowing clearly the punishments I would receive for them. As the self-hatred grew, I eventually went into isolation. I gradually stopped eating; everything tasted so bitter, that even the mere thought of food was nauseating. Sleep had long-deserted me, to be ‘victimized’ by the All-Vengeful: insomnia. I would keep my lips sealed, fearing that I would not be able to stop the endless flow of tears that would accompany my barely-coherent speech.

Signs of fatigue and negligence were becoming increasingly visible on my face. The telltale dark circles that had formed over sleepless nights under my glazed eyes, added to the eyesore I had become for those around me. Every day, my parents would up with a new color to describe my pallid complexion, “Yellow!”, “Purple!”, “Gray!”, while I sarcastically marveled at their ‘newly-found creativity’.

I deliberately began pushing away everyone around me; they had done nothing but added to the pain I had suffered in life, with what seemed like endless criticism then, but what I actually recognize now as genuine concern. Instead, I had spiraled down a deep vortex of depression and had surrendered to it, allowing it to slowly suck the life out of me. The sun rose and set; nights crept up over days, and days surrendered to nights, yet mine were enveloped by pitch-black darkness. It was though I lived on, only because my breathing had not yet ceased. I had become totally anti-social, repelling even the kindest person in my world: my mother. Her ‘endless nagging’ pushed me to extremes, even though it stemmed from the deep, agonizing concern of watching her daughter waste away.

My weight plummeted, as did my mental well-being. Breakdowns were nothing out of the ordinary, as I felt my shoulders being crushed under the world’s weight. As loneliness threatened to devour my insides, it was not long before I felt worthless, and –alarmingly – responsible for having driven everyone away. Consequently, my health deteriorated; my vital signs had reached a critical state. That pleased me immensely; it would only be a matter of time until I would be laid six feet under to rest. I’d not have to hear their criticism or mockery ever again. Eventually, Satanic Whispers formed shocking thoughts in my mind, and that is when I first attempted the unthinkable: Suicide.

I lifted my trembling hand to my mouth, as I tossed one pill in after another. I heard my parents’ angry voices ringing in my ears all along, “Take your medicines! You NEVER listen to what you’re told!” They wanted me to take my medicines? I would. I’d take them ALL. However, having failed to take over six pills, I secured the bottle’s lid back on in defeat. Yet, the Damned Devil was not satisfied with his efforts. Something glinted in my eye as I turned around to leave the bathroom. A blade. I reached out for it without any hesitance. It was slightly rusted, but very cool – almost soothing – to touch. How long would it take for the blood to drain out if I slit my wrists? As I positioned it on my wrist whilst steadying my hand, the metal was cold against my skin, opposed to the seemingly fiery blood that pulsated with a life of its own within. I could feel my heart beating almost violently in its confinement, as if wanting to be ‘set free’.

“Let’s go, we’re getting late for Salah!” The blade slipped between my fingers, leaving telltale signs of its presence on my arm, as it clambered on the floor. My brother’s annoyed voice resounded in my head, especially his last-spoken word. Salah. What was I doing? Why had I almost surrendered to The Damned? For what price was I selling my life to the DEVIL?!

Realization hit home hard; for a few ‘cheap thrills’, I had nearly lost my chance of entering Gardens of indescribable beauty. For merely a few years, I had done what I wanted to do, following a lifestyle contradictory to Islamic beliefs. I had listened to music; befriended the ‘cool and popular’; been rebellious to my elders; I had done it all. However, I had gained literally NOTHING out of it, except severe depression and instability. I had nearly destroyed my Hereafter for the sake of this transitory world of baseless desires and temptations. It was time to answer ‘The Call’; it was the time to turn back towards Allah.

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Deceiving Perceptions

Salam 3lykm,

I wrote a poem last night, and it's not one on love this time. It has been a while since I wrote a poem expressing raw, negative feelings. I can't even remember when I wrote my last poem that wasn't related to love, lol. Merely delusional, but let me enjoy it for as long as I can. ;)

The 'shine' you see in my eyes
Has a lot of people confused
They are taken by surprise
Whilst reading my depressive views

A 'twinkle'; they term the unshed tear
Having fallen for the fake smile
Their minds have steered clear
From initial doubts of an endless trial

Some seriously question my sanity
Others put-off by my erratic mood-swings
People blow the hot air of 'Humanity'
Yet judge me for every tiny thing

Emotionally drained; pierced heart
I cower away; myself I isolate
Words: poisoned arrows I pull apart
Promising myself in vain..
"You'll recuperate."

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

They'll Never Know

You want to know what it's like being me? I'll tell you. You wake up every morning, with the same monotonous routine. With the same ridicule. With the same pain in your heart. With the same glimmer of hope. That dies over and over again. You don't have friends because..well, you don't really know why. As a child, you were always told that friends will backstab you, and you grew up believing that notion. You grew up believing only family matters.

Here's the catch. You live with a dysfunctional family. You can't trust anyone, because they keep backstabbing each other. Yes. It's sad. Your family is the only thing you had, and now..you don't have that. You don't leave the house at all. Sometimes, for months. People talk about the weather; yours is the same. Everyday. Dry and cold.

You are told, 'make do with what you have in life. Be grateful.' You try. You fail. You try again. You try to interact with people. Soon after, you realize..as do they..you're a lifeless loser. They'll never admit it. Yes, they'll tolerate you..but for how long..? It's not long before they'll realize you're worthless.

You then vent. A lot like this one right here. People read it and wonder why anyone would even put something like this up..'A cry for attention.' No. They don't understand, and they never will. They don't know what it feels like to be a stranger in your own home. They don't know what's it's like to be confined within 4 walls. Bombed down with criticism relentlessly. Told you're good-for-nothing. They have no idea what feeling empty really feels like.

They don't know how it feels when your own family huddles up in a room, and laughs at your state. Mocks you behind your back, then comes to you and mocks you in your face. They don't know, and they never will know what it feels like.

You don't feel like doing anything in life; nothing at all..you're a mess. What's the use of cleaning around you, when you're a mess? People say, 'don't whine; be happy'. They don't know.

They don't know you've tried to swallow denial, only having to choke on it, and regurgitate reality.

No. You're in this alone, and they'll never know.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Love-Soaked Delirium

Salam 3lykm

Yes, another poem (written on 19th Nov, 2010) & yeah..dedicated to My One & Only *yet once agaiin*, Bu 3awas. ♥.♥

It is truly a state of delirium, because Bu 3awas is yet a figment of my imagination since I was 16. He's a fantasy I'm holding on to, rather than holding onto nothing at all. =') Yes. Okay. Pathetic, much? Walk on, people..nothing to see here. Just a delirious lifeless female, that's all.

But she's happyyy..and that's all that matters. Bu 3awas makes her happy. ♥.♥

Remember, what's said in delirium doesn't have continuity; a 'flow'. Which is why I loved writing this soppy piece, lol. 'Nuff said. Here ya go:

The world knows I love you so
I don't mind being termed 'insane'
It doesn't matter, you..I have yet to know
Remaining without both face & name

My heart will never tire of loving you
At your mention, my lips will always form a smile
When you're missed, tears will always glisten like morning dew
On cheeks that go rosy when I think of mothering your child

Give me one reason this love should be contained
Don't shout; just silence me with a passionate kiss
Why..shrouded by secrecy..should our love remain
Isn't it natural that it follows our Eternal Promise?

Whether we meet here or in Paradise
In love with you I will forever be
I pray Allah makes you the Coolness of my Eyes
Bu 3awas, you hold my heart captive for Eternity

رَبَّنَا هَبۡ لَنَا مِنۡ أَزۡوَٲجِنَا وَذُرِّيَّـٰتِنَا قُرَّةَ أَعۡيُنٍ۬ وَٱجۡعَلۡنَا لِلۡمُتَّقِينَ إِمَامًا

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Baring It All

Salam 3lykm

Sh7alkm, Dearest Readers? Awalan: 3eedkm Mbarak; thaniyan: I'm disappointed with your laziness that knows no bounds; thalithan: this isn't a poem.:P Do I hear a sigh of relief or disappointment?

What do you think this post is about? Well, there's not much left to reveal about myself, is there? This blog holds some of my darkest secrets and thoughts, and is accessible by all. Have any of you wondered, why? Why would I put my life out there for people to scrutinize? Why would I allow them to rip me apart with their criticism. After all, I've written about heartbreaks, love, Islam, etc..it seems hypocritical, doesn't it? In a post, I might be talking about how premarital relationships are unlawful, then I go and write up something on 'rebound'. Paradoxical, much?;)

I do it because I know there are people out there who go through the exact same phases in life, yet don't know who to talk to about it. They're afraid of criticism. They don't want to be judged. What is it that 2pac used to say? Only God can judge me. Yeah, I'm sorry dude..it ain't that way in reality, is it? Every other person is out to judge and attack the next. 'Survival of the Fittest', in its worst form.

Here's a newsflash - and just like all news is - its 'bad news'. Criticism is never going to stop. Critics will carry on ripping people apart with their words, and will only stop when the dust of their graves fills their mouth. Then, they will receive their fair share of criticism, because as reality has it..nothing is spared. Nope, not even the dead.

How do we deal with it? Do we live in denial and say..'I don't hear a thing', and look the opposite way? Or do we vehemently fight its provocative existence to our graves? Do we suffer and gray over the fact people are talking about us behind our backs? Or do we hide away in isolation from the rest? Whatever we choose to do, I promise you..it WILL be talked about.

Thus, we need to LIVE with it; DEAL with it; and prove the critics WRONG instead of fueling the fire they start. If you lash out, you're guilty, and if you deny it, you're ashamed..yet STILL guilty. Why not do neither, and show the world just how WRONG your critics are about you? Kill two birds with one stone: the depression/stress that comes with such criticism as well as the critics that cause it in the first place.

So, I don't care if people criticize me for who I am, because it's human nature. What matters is seeing someone smile through tears, knowing that I'm not going through this situation alone; people have been there too..and they've made it out safely.

What matters is touching the soul of ONE person out there; changing ONE person's life. That's it.

It's not about my identity, or security. If stalkers want to extract 'information', they're welcome to..provide I don't know about their stalking issues. Honestly, I have nothing to hide, because if I could hide stuff, then I would want to hide my shortcomings from ALLAH. Can I? No. Then why try to hide them from His Creation? Yes, I do know of the 7deeth that one shouldn't disclose his sins, & that Allah will keep them undisclosed on youm al Qiyamah, provided the person doesn't disclose them in his/her lifetime.

My intentions are not to boast about the mess ups I've gotten in, but to accept them as experiences I learned from, and try never to go down the same lanes again. They are also to help others that are either in similar situations, or gearing towards them. Thus, إنما الأعمال بالنيات would support my stance here. Further, I don't disclose the details that don't matter, and never will.

I've had countless girls come up to me saying, 'this is EXACTLY how I feel..but I don't have the guts to tell anyone.' What does that lead to? Psychologically, they're all going through a turmoil no one knows of, and probably never will. As a result, she will go through certain phases, which I've gone through. I can't see people make the same mistakes; it hurts way too much. No, I'm not trying to show you what a 'selfless considerate individual' I am, because we're rarely selfless.

I can tell you there's nothing selfless about this; initially, it was my therapy, and a lot of times..it still is. But I now also do it for the lovely feeling I get when I help someone sort their life out. Be the light that brightens up someone's life, and you will inevitably brighten up your own. I owe it to myself to brighten up whatever little remains of myself, and I couldn't do it without your help.

So, to all those who have benefited from these posts, this is a petty way of thanking you for unknowingly doing me the favor of brightening up my life, one for which only Allah can Reward you; Allah yjzeekm kl5ayr fd dnya wl A5irah.

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh

Friday, November 12, 2010

Destiny's Perfection

Salam 3lykm

I wrote this last night, within less than 10 minutes! Yes, I surprise myself sometimes, too.xP Dedicated to the Love of My Life, Bu 3awas.<3 Whoever he is; wherever he might be. *Rabbi y7f'6h w y5alleeh liii; Ameen! x$*

There has to be some mistake
I'm sure there's a hidden catch
A perfect couple they'd make
A 'one-in-a-million' kind of match

Is this another game Destiny plays?
Or is this their 'dream come true'?
Will they end up taking different ways?
Or will they be the envied 'inseparable-two'?

She stares up at the Heavens above
A mysterious glow on her tear-stained face
Praying earnestly for her Eternal Love
To complete her life; falling perfectly into place

Yes, Um 3awas is totally ♥.♥ over Bu 3awas, and cannot wait to meet him. x$

رَبَّنَا هَبۡ لَنَا مِنۡ أَزۡوَٲجِنَا وَذُرِّيَّـٰتِنَا قُرَّةَ أَعۡيُنٍ۬ وَٱجۡعَلۡنَا لِلۡمُتَّقِينَ إِمَامًا

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Losing Grip

Salam 3lykm,

Here's some much-needed therapy. There is probably a height to loserdom, and I'm right up there. It feels good to write..I only wish my blog would actually talk back to me sometimes. Crazy, eh? Yeah..that's exactly how I feel. Deranged.

I am spinning out of control
Too many things on my mind
Circumstances taking a toll
I need time to unwind

One step towards total insanity
Trying desperately hard to hold on
Two steps backwards, accepting reality
Discovering I've had it all wrong

Paranoia shackles my thoughts
Mistrust causes relationships to falter
Devilish Whispers I've constantly fought
Now tighten around my neck like a halter

Who wouldn't play my heart?
Who wouldn't toy around with words?
Who would give me a fresh start?
....Or is that a lot more than I deserve?

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barakateh

Monday, November 1, 2010

Your Love (Flashback: 2007)

Salam 3lykm

This is the very first poem I changed my 'writing style' with; takes me down memory lane, so I don't want to read it myself, lol. Just wanted to keep everything I've written together. It made me smile...seeing something from my 'teens', lol! I sound like a 40 year old right now. x'D

12th Jan, 2007
im back wit a new 1...thought of tha beginnin 2day aftr fajr wen i cudnt fall asleep...n wrote it wen i woke up round 1030am...u will notice...im playin around wit a new style...so if this 1 sucks..gimme a break! first tym wit this style...feeel absolutely freeee 2 comment!

It's your love that makes me glow
everything seems alright
all those tears have ceased to flow
n I can sleep through tha night

My love for you caused this heartache
the parting I couldn't bear
even though I walked around wide awake
I was never really here

I thought it would have been easy
I'd forget in a couple of days...
I've never been so wrong in my life's entirety
It was impossible to go separate ways

You have held captive both my heart & soul
so before you decide 2 walk away
remember, without u I will never be whole
in love with u I will forever stay

Wes Salam 3lykm w R7matullahi T3ala w Barkateh