my life , my clothes
my love , my breads
my love life , my everyday living !

my all children , my life
my purpose , my love
my all purpose , my shortage

my everyday living , my challenges
my shortage , my strength
my clothes and my breads , my poems and my stories !

on the spot decision of mine weakens my strength to face my challenges
but there was this spot that i do not own
perhaps i could possess and make my children live their lives worthwhile !

The place in
Cuba
Runned by Americans
Is the next
Most haunted place
On earth
As there was horrific acts
Done there
Second to the great wall
This
This place
Guantanamo Bay
A portal to hell

We muslims
Are people too
We muslims have the same anatomy
The same emotions
The same desires
The same needs
And the potential for heartbreak
It hurts me to
Think
You thinks of us as all the same
Terrorists
Jihadis
And literate ******* and *******
When really we are the same as you










نحن المسلمين
هم الناس أيضا
نحن المسلمين لدينا نفس التشريح
نفس المشاعر
نفس الرغبات
نفس الاحتياجات
وإمكانية حدوث حسرة
يؤلمني
يفكر
أنت تعتقد أننا جميعا نفس الشيء
إرهابيون
جهاديون
والكلاب والأوغاد المتعلمين
عندما نكون حقاً مثلك

The smell of something putrid
protrudes up through your nostrils
as you walk down these dimply lit streets.
You hear the fire crackling, you see the glow off the side of an abandoned building.

Is this one of those fires you see on the news -
set ablaze by anger and retaliation?

No.
It's the burning wounds along Jacob Blake's back.
It's the marks of oppression -
the scars we "distract" ourselves from.

There's a fire burning in America
and the source is plain to see:
while bodies line up along the streets,
people following along on their TV screens
say a prayer for broken windows.
They mourn items that are looted
as if it wasn't a life that was looted first.

There's a fire burning
and it melts the black skin right off their bones.
A skeleton has no color
yet they blame corpses for their own murders.

There's a fire burning
from Sanford to Staten Island,
from Louisville to Kenosha.
But those very flames were ignited
by the people designated to put them out.

Who watches the watchmen?
Who stands with the people?

The hammer has dropped.
The bullets have left the chamber.
As long as our brothers and sisters
have to fight for their right to live,
Red, White and Blue lives don't matter.

I am a woman. I can be all by myself
I am equal to a ‘man’
I don’t need anybody to look after me
I need no man to hold my hand.
 
I am a woman. I am tender, not fragile
I can indulge in all life has to offer and intensely feel all the emotions
I have strength tenfold. I can fight for my freedoms and rights
Nothing can restrict me from fulfilling my dreams and aspirations.  
 
I am a woman. I bleed red
Grievous cramps drag me closer to death, and still, I put up a smile
It is pride, no shame. I bleed to create the world.
Even if I am tagged ‘impure’, I am not going to smother behind the veil
 
I am a woman. I deserve to be treated with respect
I will never settle for less, in equality I believe
I am neither born to satisfy a man’s hunger nor to be a victim of dominance
Instead, I am born to be a woman of my choice.

Freedom of speech is only ever true
If no one is listening to you
Watch what you say you can disappear too

Under the haze of reality
"You're lazy"
Echoes in your ears
When everyday
You're worse for wear
Toiling the lands
With your coarse hands,
The callouses so thick
Still you remain meek
Against the landlords
With their noose
Around your neck
Tightening
Gripping
Clenching
Until you can't breathe
Gasping for air


The blood, the sweat
The tears as your eyes wet
They can't see
The struggle
How you juggle
Taking care of the lands
And of the family you left home


When will it be your turn
To be taken care of
By the mother you love so
By the brothers in the capital
Saying we're all equals
As they fool people
With their jargon
With their orders and sections
Rules and regulations
Disguising their intentions
Schemes so evil
People end in peril


When will they give you
Time to rest
Time to voice your distress
Time to stand up for your rights
And finally see the light
Of day
The day you become equal
Not only in mere words
Or campaign spiels
Or posters and flyers
Decaying as they hold power
For years and years
As if you're just a stone
They've stepped on

Dear child, it's time
Time to say enough
Time to call out their bluff
Time to not be afraid
Time to stand up and fight
Dear child, fight for your rights.