whirring tides of stars

Whirring tides of stars 

Matchless beauty

Flames afire

From afar

Seemingly calm 

Light my way

To the exceptional realm

Let me pass

Through sea and air, smoke 

Unfurled and skyward palms

Symbols of non-resistance 

Acceptance 

Of my fate, unknown 

Based on the faith I have

Of ONE that is Greater

He sent him as a Messenger 

Sallahu 

Alayhi 

WaSalam. 

Shafeesthoughts 

savage rap ster

Savage Rap Ster

Don’t get me wrong I’m not ashamed 

To say what I think

And it’s no game 

To be called a coot

By my brothers behind bars

Mentally stricken 

Disease ridden 

Infected with racism 

How they must hate their reflection

Uncle Tomfoolery

It’s not cool

To curse your brother 

And hate your uncle 

And God knows what you do to your sisters 

How white America tainted you. 

How you crawl behind bars

They not laughing with you 

When you disdain your own 

They laughing at yer

You fool. 

Gross Injustice

After today's guardians exposé on the black ops detention centre I penned this. 

"When you hear of gross injustice. 

Does your heart bleed,

Does that feed the cycle of revenge. 

Or does your religion dictate,

Or your ethics demand,

That you cannot remonstrate. 

That from every heart that bleeds,

That demands it's needs,

A monster may be born. 

That your heart should be above it all. 

In order to be civil. 

In order to keep peace. 

But greater still is he,

Who reminds of God's mercies. 

Bringing solace to bleeding hearts. 

To those in need. 

And with peace in his heart,

Demands justice.

Leaving no rock unturned. 

In meting out that which was not met before. 

Perchance he might right injustices wrongs.

Bringing solace to those whose hearts bled before.

And in that struggle,

Whether living, by it,

Or dying, by it. 

In God's eyes he would live forever
And more.”

Nation of Ghifar

Nation of Ghifar. 

Our celebrated hero,

May Allah t’ala bless him

Once could not stand that people be free Through the declaration of faith

And so he asked the Messenger 

And thrice he (saw) replied

With the last a humorous chide. 

And when the blessed one left us,

And Abu Dharr (ra) sought to impose 

His understanding of charity and frugality 

The companions had him banished 

And so befell the words of the Messenger

That he would be left alone. 

For the obligations were set 

A trust to be kept 

So that we might be free

At not slaves to a false religiosity. 

How my heart bleeds 

That these people have stolen 

A religion made pure 

Flowing as a river 

They damned with their fiqh

And every now and then cull silver fish. 

So that the people believe 

That orthodoxy is conservatism 

It never was 

For this revolutionary religion 

Will burst their every bank. 

(C) Shafeesthoughts 30th January 2018

LONDON, MS BACHELANI

impressionist Journey

Impressionist Journeys

The brush strokes of my life lie thinly veiled

Beneath the glossy veneer, of this charming smile.

Endearing me to a city that I do not know

Or is it the foreign dollar that, unbeknownst to me, opens those doors. 

Where they say three climes, in a day, can come and go. 

Where every rain chases away laughter

And every drain, gurgles with pending disaster. 

They say that these rouge bonhomies have sponge brain

Not a communicable disease, but a talent no less,

Who yap with accents that can make even cockneys cringe.

A true impressionist would use delicate colour 

But in this drear city what better postcard can I offer

That captures this venture from the new world to the old. 

(C)

Shafeesthoughts 28th January 2018

MS BACHELANI 

A London Cabbie’s passengers story. 

Scorched Remains

Scorched remains 

If the sky had eyes, it would bleed salt tears

If the earth had mouth, it would tell inconsolable truths 

If the sea had it’s way, what could we offer by way of sacrifice?

Do we deserve to pollute the conscience of the World with our disharmonies? 

Do we allow these warmongers to innovate still new ways to decimate?

Who profits from war, but the military industry 

Are our lives, and our children’s, prey to their every product cycle?

Who justifies death in the millions 

How can you give a name to a product that burns people’s skin off

Torture to the death is not something that should be for sale. 

And they justify to themselves by their want for dominion 

But it is not theirs 

For no land, no sea, nor sky will bear them 

And theirs will be an end much worse than that they sold to men. 

(C) Shafeesthoughts 25th Jan 2018

😢 Feeling raw. 

Blossom Breeze

On a Blossom Breeze. 

Forget that we met

In the dire straights of war 

Where no man controls his destiny

Forget not what it was meant to be

At least for me, at most for us both

Thrown together, we were never meant to live apart. 

Forget my foolishness, when in my fear 

I  bit into you. Never meant to hurt you. 

And in my dreams you come to me on a blossom breeze. 

And we talked and we chatted 

As if there had never been

A time of sorrow, where our hearts bled never stopping for the morrow. 

But the memories of these dreams fade as if they had never been. 

A memory of a memory

That was never meant to be. 

(C) Shafeesthoughts 23rd January 2018

MSBACHELANI.