I watch you crawling slowly,
the earth clothes you;
i watch as light shakes
your limbs in supperating harmony,
the earth conceals you;
i watch your expiration,
the earth frames you.
i watch your quiet resurrection,
emerging crossly into day,
the earth, the dry warm earth
She made hell for my mother
You see she left her husband because he was too poor
He climbed on top of buildings with a bottle of water
A dry loaf of bread in his hand
Roaming the streets in the day looking for work
Opting to repair watches to get a meal
She couldn't stand this man she had married
So he went in search of another woman
Then he met my mother, married her brought her home
Pregnant with my eldest sibling, the other woman returned, bringing her jealousy and envy, making my mother's life a living hell
Then I was born into a home full of conflict
Witchcraft was the weapon used against my mother
At only one month old, my mother left home
Leaving us in the mercy and madness of an insane woman
Instead of feeding us with good milk, she would dilute it to 10% water, dump us in cold water, hoping that all these would kill us as she didn't want our blood directly on her hands
Was it not for our paternal grandmother, we would have died, but when she heard of what we were going through
She came and rescued us from this deranged woman
She raised us with love and care as though she was our mother
After our primary education, we had to move back in with our dad and his insane wife
Worse times filled with every kind of abuse awaited us
...to be continued. ..
We know too well that we
We feel the drear gusts of death
the final fear
the angry sigh-
we know, we both know in each fading breath
that all religion is a lie
disapears by and by
and tears never bring relief
the sun always brings heat
we know all this but never ask why
and smile together in careless defeat.
hold my hand as we walk along
knowing too that above
is neither further life nor duller song.
hold my hand
as we go
step by step; slow, very slow.,
to give back to the enemy and fleeing from the battlefield at the time of fighting(Sahih Bukhari: Volume 4, Book 51: Wills and Testaments (Wasaayaa), Number 28:)
Sahih Bukhari: Volume 4, Book 52: Fighting for the Cause of ALLAH [S.W.T], Number 65:
Narrated Abu Musa (R.A):
If a religion celebrates war
What then is religion for?
To instigate battle, to encourage murder
to perpetuate belief, or aims yet absurder?
Instigating empire from the corrusive sands
innocents slain as religion expands,
tolerance and nurture dispelled-
Religion will corrupt the mind
turning even the best of us morally blind,
actions scripted by dubious text
lives pretenaturally wrecked-
hoary beards and hoary words
twittering with dim-witted birds.
Books provide touchstones
for antique bones,
for religious actors caught in symbolic mazes,
in undeveloped souls, hate unabated.
Fighting to expand a creed
is planting the very seed
of pain and injustice,
of terror in music festivals
knives that rise and fall
in a rythmic toll
Young girls displaying flesh
hacked to death.
In such imaginings ethics fails
like the frightened child in ferocious gales.
Can we celebrate war
through religion's constant gore,
through spear and sword?
Expanding the umma through contemporary states
the unenquiring priest convinced of heroic fates,
of suicides enrolled in heaven
amongst similarly conscripted brethren,
for a god complicit in murder-
what, oh what, is absurder?