Letter to my Kin

So I’m watching TV right, and I’m flipping through the channels when I come across family guy

So it’s an episode where there’s this “Muslim alarm clock” that they illustrate

And suddenly I hear the takbeer, shortly after which the alarm clock detonates

Now I’m laughing incessantly to the point that I smear my tears, and for some weird reason, in my head the word “terrorist” resonates

And then suddenly impulsively my limbs reach for a paper and pen, these feelings of deep horror and sorrow traveling through my skin, my mind picturing a devilish grin hiding years of oppression and sin, as my hand begins….”Dear my kin”

Yet as the words I think are made permanent through the drying ink, it isn’t merely my mother father and sister that I have in mind

Rather it is the family I belong to called mankind….primarily my brothers in faith

And I continue, “Dear my kin, I have failed you” rather “I have betrayed you”

I have been a fervent proponent of those who enslave you,

Those who subject you to, cheap sweatshops, fast food restaurants, leave you bed-ridden, poverty-stricken and then disdain you

I am writing this letter, to try and explain to you my detrimental love affair, with America

And this simple TV show epitomizes how they desensitized us to our own sorry condition

Took the “s” out of slaughter and now it’s all funny business

Children begging for water, and we won’t’ even listen

Dying sons and daughters but as long as it isn’t out children, it doesn’t worry our soul

But last I checked the ummah was supposed to be whole

Your pain was mine, my heart beat with yours

And now it’s your situation, is well, your situation

And we started changing the station on the Muslim nation, neglecting our ansar roots

Why is it that our youth feature the most diverse ethnic groups yet all the girls want the latest ugg boots and all the guys the famous thug roots?

The object of your loyalty, is the source from which you derive your pride, and the source of your pride describes how much you’re worth

And I have come to realize that we are worth more, than short skirts and pre-marital births

More than Armani shirts and the devil’s curse, I refuse to continue to contribute to this dearth of worth; I’d rather live on the periphery of simplicity with a deep antipathy of all the illusions on this earth

You see I just recently realized that the home of the brave, was in fact the home of the slaves

Because I’ve still yet to see, the land of the free

And don’t get me wrong I support this star spangled banner as best I can, but rather than supporting it unconditionally, I realize now that I must support which ever part of it fits within the banner of Islam

Much rather than conforming to a man-made foundation, I’d rather live by a foundation established by God for man

Much rather than ingesting the “Uncle Sam,” “yes we can” placebos, I’d rather whole-heartedly take in the pure unadulterated cure of Islam

Because as much as I love you America, I cannot support half the principles on which you stand

And consequently, the consequent consequences constantly became numb in my veins

And subsequently, the subsequent sublime message substituted for pain

As the subliminal tide subsides I reside in my misplaced sense of pride in which I so deeply confide when in reality I can’t stand what’s inside; shame

The shame of my heart and mind as a result of their enslavement, to my soul and her greed

This need for conformity, is their modernized slavery

And in the process we’ve lost all sense of loyalty, to everything save our souls, and God knows we are in need of some serious soul saving

So I refuse to betray you my kin anymore

Re-tame my soul, regain control, and retain my true pride, keep my head held high

And I’m not talking about my nose in the sky because of why I advertise on my shirt, I’m talking about the minimum 5 times a day that I put my face in the dirt

This, is a letter to the unborn, and I’m not talking about abortion I’m talking about extortion

For every person paying their hard earned money to stimulate someone else’s fortune, and getting left with a less than second best portion

This, is for the mother’s working three jobs to keep the lights on

This, is for my brothers subject to American fight songs

This, is for the warrior who knows he’s meeting his doom but still fights on

It is you that stays true to what you believe in, not us who stay true to every lyric, to every song of the heathens

Confusing profound, with profane, doing whatever it takes to be considered mundane

While you worry about bullets and bombs dropping from the sky, but don’t you cry, I am by your side

And these kings trying to suppress the shari’ah is no new concept

The shari’ah my friend, is what obligates me to greet Muslims and non-Muslims alike with this cheese

So by all means, Peter kings of queens, ban as you please

I however, will continue to please the owner of all pleasure and all He decrees, and as the degrees of hardship increase, I know two fold that so does the ease

So please forgive me my kin, I am weak my heart changes with the seasons

One day it’s hot, and the next day it’s freezing, one day I’ve got it all figure out and the next I’ve lost my direction and reason

So I’m pleading, with you my kin, I repent to Allah to forgive me my sins and I beg you please, forgive me my treason

I am willing to extend you my arms till the souls of my palms start bleeding

Because this life it fleeting, and it is you that I cherish

I would rather die before I see my brothers perish

But alas, then came the end of the commercial break, and just as I was about to continue throwing my life away, I was shown a sign

This letter had a pulse, and it, was beating with mine…

Protective Custody

you saw where the world was headed and wanted to get a head start
swore you'd never have to see your precious sweety struggle and strive to survive, because you already played that part
you wanted him to have the purest of hearts
and he did
not because he cleansed it but because he never adulterated it
never let him see corruption
never wanted him to know what it was
poverty didn't exist
war was just in myth
and babies happened just because
you were his only friends
never let him get in on the latest trends
you just agreed to pretend
that life was served up on a silver platter
and he never questioned you because he didn't know how
and, he saw no reason to
you moved him to the suburbs
homeschooled him
and turned of the tv
you thought u were protecting him but you were shielding him from reality
he never knew anything of substance
his ignorance was bliss
which was why he was remiss
but when he woke up one day and smelled the home brew called truth
he just couldn't resist
he took a sip, and couldn't believe what he missed
like the first time he asked you why he saw two women kissing
you told him not to talk or think about it, without even listening
you successfully accomplished the best method of intriguing someone into something even more; telling them they can't have it
but he had enough experience to get around your internet codes
and Lo and behold
your sweety pie isnt so sweet anymore
and oh he needs to know more
and more and more
feasting on every single detail of every single thing you wanted him to ignore
until he couldn't take the lies anymore
so he took his all his allowance and walked out the door
and he let your weary hearts rest assured
that he wasn't coming back
he spent his time searching for what he was deprived of in every corner of every corner
and his new lifestyle was leading him straight to the coroner
cnn became his new best friend
and
you never taught him how to decipher the truth from the lies
and assuming everything you told him was a lie, he took it all as truth
so everything cnn told him about his religion, he believed
and everything you told him about strangers, he belied
and relied
on the lies
as his guide
led him right down the road of pride
so he vowed that he would never again be controlled
and he didn't care about the fact that your grieving hearts would never be consoled
10 years down the road
and you've done your best to erase the memories
The same memories your son can't escape
So instead of dealing with his issues he finds remedies in things he's grown to hate
Things his new life has taught him to consecrate
When in reality they've made an industry out of substances aimed to debilitate
Substances that make civilized individuals spend their residuals on weed, crack cocaine, and heroine until they become habitual renegades
Neglecting their kin, friends, and children, looking out only for that number one
Kids growing up not knowing their parents
And in this case parents who lived not knowing their own son

Lifeline

He can't explain this life
and he says his guess is just as good as mine
but I tell him I fall back on something divine
and if he just looks for the signs
then he'll find
peace of mind
I tell him he can't possibly believe that certain things were weaved and magically intertwined
and after some time
ya da ya da we get into it time after time
but one thing he can't deny
is the time
the fact that we all got a deadline
when well be riding that deadline
and most of us won't be making too many headlines
he asks me what's the point of being alive when its like you're going through life on an incline
like every step is more like every climb
I tell him God guides who He wills and who's looking for a guide
so direct your cries to the sky
but he claims no reply
he can't let go of his priceless vices and neither can I
as the crisis heightens he stops wanting to try
I give my concise insight but its like he looks back at me with sightless eyes
why can't he just comply?
why can't we just coincide?
he CAN'T be content with the idea that were going through life simply waiting to die
until, someone, dies...
I ask you what now, is the worth of a life?
You held true
That once we were through
Nothing would move
Speak or feel, that it was all lies
Until it all became too real right in front of your eyes
you see this young man
he was 20
he played knick knack and made his money
but knick knack
click clack
throw a dog his bone
and I think we all know this man didn't come home
the questions aren't why when and how
the question is what do we do now
because if his passing is a cause for you to turn your life around
what better reward can you give him?
with tears in his eyes he told us forgive him
but we had nothing to forgive him for
but it did make me question, what are we living for
made me question, what's the worth of a life?
is it worth a bullet and a knife
1:00 at night
under the street lights?
or does it have a higher price?
we all wish there was a rewrite
but the funny thing about time
is that there's no rewind
and the funny thing about life is that contenders finish second
pretenders finish first
and nice guys finish last
night skies remind me of the past
we love to fast forward
and we hate to flashback
its a fact
but you see that doesn't deter me
would you believe it if I told you my book says nice guys have the last laugh?
no not in this life
because you see this life is only a prelude to the next
that's where I set my life's worth
because the truth is
we don't define how we live our lives
we are defined by how we live our lives...
but like I said, we get into it time after time
so at the end of the day, for him is his way, and for me is mine..

Stimulating W's

why?
why is it that me and you live under this one same sky
but we see it with different eyes
why have I
lost my ability to cry
long ago
at the age of five
when my mother bent my bones
so that I could stand out to those
who occasionally stroll
my way
in hopes they pay
but the truth is, the sight of my disfigured body is too hard to take
my mother told me she loved me why
did she lie
why have I never known my father
why
do I sit around and whine
all day on this street begging for dimes
I'd much rather have you spare me your time
ask me my name and maybe try and make me laugh
I forgot how that felt
my name is maryam btw and I don't know how that's spelt
and I don't know what to do with this hand I was dealt
all I know how to do
is try to sympathize with you
I, once heard about school
about how kids just like me play and learn and even laugh
I yearn for my turn at a chance like that
but here I am, nothing but a dreg
and all I know how to do is beg
so don't be mad at me when you walk away and I send my little sister to go pull on your leg
because that's my life
I will never know what its like
to read and write
or ride a bike
why?
was I maimed
and why
can't I
spell my name
why?
so please try
and relate
and please try
to donate
please come to my aid
please, help me escape
What?
what did I do?
to deserve this abuse
from my father who uses me as a tool
to light up a fuse
to blow off some fumes
so I'm forced to endure
and because of it I've lost sight in my left eye
his anger stems from our, rather my
inability to generate enough income to pay off the debts my father has accumulated over time
from all the money he's borrowed from some not so nice guys
you see my father got into some habits, drugs and such
so his addictions
have put a restriction
on his exposition
which is ultimately the cause of my afflictions
and unfortunately my mothers as well
that man made her live a living hell
but she taught me how to be bold
and a day doesn't go by that I don't think about her, God have mercy on her soul
but i refuse to let that impede my ability to proceed
into a world I've yet to see
a world only I can see
because although I may not have much to eat
or a place to sleep
I refuse to allow that to deter me in the least
you see these people look, but they do not see
I on the other hand have freed my mind
and if I'm not mistaken they do say that the one eyed man is king among the blind
my name is hakeem, and I am 9
and when I'm not working, I like playing soccer
I heard about how UNICEF is supposed to help kids like me
financially
kids who struggle with a loss
but all they're good for is occupying space on the front of my soccer jersey
and even that's peeling off
what?
can I do
to improve
this situation Im in, I mean I have hopes and dreams too
what?
makes me any less than you?
what?
just try and relate
I don't ask you to donate
it probably won't reach me anyway
I simply ask that you appreciate
what you have and remember those less fortunate
when?
when is it that this war's gona end?
when
when will I know what it is that I'm trying to defend
when?
when will I stop trying to pretend
that things will get better
when
anything I've ever loved has come to and end
from my parents and siblings, to the only boy I've ever called a friend
him and I
fighting side by side
on the front lines
under a sky full of bullets that seem to never subside
one of which caught my friend right in his thigh
another in his chest
he looked me in the eye
right before I laid him to rest
you see my only friend
was killed right there and then
when
will I see my loved ones again
when
will this massacre come to an end
when
will I see an end to the hate
my name is khalid and I'm only eight
but see, I don't want your money and I don't need your pity
because you will never relate
and I will never escape
i gave up trying to retaliate
I've accepted my fate
We indulge in these frivolous occupations
and are oblivious to the situations
right across our seas
you see
empty stomachs won't feed themselves
but neither will empty hearts
so feed on this food for thought
and please, do your part

Lost and found

 I don't have the time
disgusts me how easy it was for you to look me in the eye
and tell me a lie
I had a sweet tooth for your seemingly innocent cries
more like an addiction 
an addiction over the fantasy of what it could be
but the more and more I hoped, the more and more you proved me wrong
and the worse and worse it got 
and trust me it was no walk in the park
I was walking in the dark
put my hand out and let you guide me to a place
it wasnt easy to escape
you became to me, what color is to vision
and it seemed like we were always in competition 
a competition I loved but soon came to abhor
I followed you into a door
which I thought id never leave 
and there are parts of me I'm still struggling to retrieve
you see, blind love clouds all reason, and boy was I blind
the thought of you and what we could do was all that was on my mind
you were my
ambition
my mission
my reason
my treason
because yes, I did betray my duties to everything and everyone and my justification for it was that you did it too 
this blind love I loved and soon came to hate
but friction started when you didn't relate
friction which turned into sparks then, started a fire
a fire to an inferno
which burned the both of us
I, did you wrong
by, allowing it to go on
for as long
as it did
and continuing to dig
a hole which we became so  accustomed to being in 
because I guess all we needed was eachother right? 
no God, family, friends, just you and me 
we fooled ourselves into thinking there was a right way to do what was wrong
an idea which became so strong
and persisted for so long 
that there was no such thing as moving on 
and there was never supposed to be
you became so attached to me
and detached from reality
living in fantasy
where our love couldn't be stopped even by gravity
you didn't grasp the gravity
of actuality 
and I'm sorry it ended the way it did
but Id do it 1000 times again
not even beginning to mention
the tension
you caused me and Im aware that i have my share of the blame as well but you didn't need to put up with my flaws and I didn't need yours
the difference is you still wanted to while I just wanted to find my mind
and offer it peace 
which is why I released
I ask you one final request
and that is to free yourself of me and allow me freedom in my quest
my journey
my voyage 
back out of the hole
out of the shadows of doubt
and into the light of truth 
the light of the One my love should be directed to
The One
And if need be ill scream at the top of my lungs
Hope I speak clearly hope I'm not speaking in tongues
and if it makes it easy, for the record you've won
I hope you hear me, hope you realize it's done

Confessions of a Reflector

When is it that push comes to shove?
poets become potent 
and like turns to love 
hopeful turns to hopeless
strangeness turns to closeness
phases turn to stages
and stages to ages
of raceless racists
who have the slaves run their races
unjust hatred 
turns to violent rages
where the strong go up on stages
and the weak behind the curtains in cages
but when the books of history tell truths, they just rewrite the pages
the rich train the poor, while they sit back and count their aces
with smirks and grins on their faces
where habits make addicts
and where the strong impose on the weak
and the stronger on the strong
leaves no difference between right and wrong 
gain the love of their followers, "let the king live long"
have them sing their songs 
word for word 
and far too many beautiful voices go unheard 
unsung heroes 
just as good as zeros
wealth means power, money is a common theme 
in this subliminal regime
Where they use their tv screens
And movie scenes
To feed us the most obscene
Things
Until we become fiends...
Or more like machines
Who, obey their every command
Comply with their every demand
And fall prey to their every scheme
So, dad has no worth
And moms just for birth
Kids rule the world
And "I had it first" mentalities
Cloud realities
Such as the fact that we complain about their inflicted fatalities
And calamities
When we pay their salaries
Were living in fantasy
our eyesight is clogged
like looking through a fog
so if you live like an animal
then yes I guess life is a female dog
because you see, calamities don't define how you live, you do
but most of us live our lives based on someone else's  desires, call it vu du 
with a little touch of poison
so through all the commotion
I search for a potion
you can't regulate chaos
but you can organize emotion
which is why our kitchens are filled with products "as seen on tv"
and why we keep questioning the definition of "PG"
and societies definition of propriety 
causes me to retreat
step back and ask myself what IM doing wrong
put myself on the hot seat
ask myself what did I neglect 
I mean I read the books, but the books have no effect
and then it hits me, knowledge is in the heart not in the text
"verily in this are signs for a people who reflect"

Invisible Me.

I find peace in invisivbility
yet you see, you aren't blind to the physical me
it's the me I see myself to be...that you don't see
stuck between who I'm supposed to be...and supposedly
I find peace in invisibility
because you see
I am visible when I adhere to society
and society's ideology
of propriety
matter of fact thats when I get the notoriety
I try to leave
yet I admit sometimes the notorious me is who I try to be
this notoriety that leads to stress
I rest...in invisibility
step back from the fantasy called reality
I realize that it's easier to travel unseen
invisible in the middle of plain sight
I stand out while the rest move about interchangeably 
I am irony
I do hope you understand the simile
I draw a similitude between invisibility and being unique
similarly i speak plainly although I may sound oblique
I choose to see certain things while other things I neglect
from the outside looking in it's easier to reflect
open your mind's eye and tell me what you see
I choose to be free
and contrary to popular belief
I find relief
in invisibility... 


(C) NAEEM BAIG. PLEASE GIVE CREDIT IF YOU PLAN TO SHARE, iA!