"abdulmalik" poems
I am like water:
I am tender, yet bold
Your thought is my container
How much of me can it hold?
Do not underestimate me;
enlarge the container
For I am a mystery yet untold.
I am like water:
I take the shape of your container
Your thought is that container
I am to you as you think of me
Look into me; I am a reflection of yourself.
I am like water:
I go to where I flow
And I flow to where I go
And I'll always find a path to follow.
I am like water:
I cannot be understood
For I am beyond your horizon
Shapen the container as you like,
it will never form the true shape of me
My true self is free — it cannot be contained.
—JIBRIL ABDULMALIK
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 1:04 PM UTC
You said you saw me dancing in the rain.
You said I looked happy and sane.
If only you were truly true,
You would have noticed my pain.
If only you really knew
And not just claim,
You would have seen that my tears were the rain.
Dear friend,
If only you were truly true,
Maybe I would still be alive today.
Maybe. Just maybe.
—Abdulmalik Jibril
Sep 9, 2022
Sep 9, 2022 at 1:13 PM UTC
[JIBRIL ABDULMALIK]
I cannot find any masterpiece
How then do I plan?
There are no shoulders on which to stand
Shoulders of any giant of great stance
How then do I view the remaining journey?
How do I understand?
Tell me, is there still hope for me?
[EDINO ABIGAEL]
You might feel like a pirate
whose masterpiece Is lost between waves and tides,
But, look In the mirror
Who you see Is the master's piece.
This Is the greatest conviction.
Those great giants you look up to,
Are now like Goliath,
Lying helpless down your feet,
Let this be the hope you seek.
[JIBRIL ABDULMALIK]
The path I seek does not seek me in return
The one I love never loved me — I was just taken for fun.
Should I think less of my so called friends or should I say much of them?
They only show up whenever I find a gem
Shouldn't I say less of my very own?
Whom I danced to his great plans — plans for me alone
Great plans for the tomorrow that is never known
Only to find he never had a plan, not even of his own
Tell me, is there still hope for me?
[EDINO ABIGAEL]
You are at a crossroad,
All path seems right.
But, right In you,
Is a Great compass
Leading away from doom.
Trace your steps one, two,
Deep within the bed of your shattered heart,
Sleeps the hope you seek!
JIBRIL ABDULMALIK AND EDINO ABIGAEL ©2019
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 2:41 AM UTC
Do not try to look at me
— I am in a mantle —
I cannot be seen.
Do not try to call me
I will not answer
For I do not want to utter a word
— I want to listen in silence —
For I am in the company of the essence.
Do not try to understand
For I, myself, do not understand.
—JIBRIL ABDULMALIK ©2019
Apr 20, 2019
Apr 20, 2019 at 7:21 PM UTC
Today, I am again closer
to everything mine —destined.
Better than I was,
Good for how I want,
And best for what is to come.
That, I know, without doubt.
As much as I have gone farther,
I know I am yet to be
where I want to be.
Just as I know, without doubt,
What will be will be.
I am at peace and ease
Knowing Who holds the wheel.
Whatever comes after
Was never meant to come before.
And whatever comes before
Was never meant to come after.
However, whenever.
Today, I am wiser and stronger
than I was yesterday.
But I am not getting any younger
Just so you know,
Today, I am a year older.
©By Abdulmalik Jibril
Jun 25, 2020
Jun 25, 2020 at 4:47 AM UTC
There is a secret;
The Secret of secrets
Beyond the imagination of our impure selves
There, lies all my unknown self
For I am a mystery yet untold.
Here, I am
But seen to be there.
There, was I
But not seen nor heard.
I was looked at, but not seen
I did not speak, but I was heard
I was not looked at, but I was seen
I was not heard, but I was listened to
This shadow is not mine but this body's
For I am not this body but this soul
—Jibril Abdulmalik ©2019
Apr 20, 2019
Apr 20, 2019 at 7:15 PM UTC
You are you
You are the unusual; like a noontide dew
You're birth of this fertile soil
Who else should you be but you?
Be yourself,
let everyone in trying to be you, toil
Don't try to become anyone but you
Be the main character, let everyone be a foil
You're greater than you think
Why have you chosen to join the queue?
Don't be to yourself a turmoil
Of your kind, if there're any, they're but few
You're you
That is truer than true
You are an exceptional aesthetic
There's no one alive who is youer than you
You are an extraordinary piece of the greatest artist
You're one of a kind
There's no one like you.
—JIBRIL ABDULMALIK ©2019
[DR. SEUSS]
“Today you are You,
That is truer than true.
There is no one alive who is Youer
than You.”
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 3:07 AM UTC
I lost myself in thoughts of things to be
That I find my tears drowning me.
I have seen enough there is to see,
Yet, I do not know of any truth to set me free
I have prayed and prayed,
That I find no word left unsaid.
I have paid and paid,
And do not know of any price left unpaid.
I do not know what demon has cover my lantern's light.
Even the stars are scared of this cloudy night.
I am lost between what is left and what is right
That I do not know what is right or left to sacrifice.
I have faith all things shall pass away,
But I fear this as well might sway.
I shall pray just this last day.
And hope I am heard before my hair turns grey.
–Abdulmalik Jibril
Sep 9, 2022
Sep 9, 2022 at 1:29 PM UTC
My dearest
My beloved
Rose of flowers
Peacock of birds
Diamond of gemstones
Sirius of stars
You are all of those and I am the lover.
I am the kite
and you are the string
You are my star
and you are the blink
I am the sky
and you are the ring
I am the flight
and you are the wings
I am the lover
and you are the beloved
—JIBRIL ABDULMALIK ©2019
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 3:31 AM UTC
When I begin writing a poem,
the tears, blood and sweat of the innocent become my ink
and the bones become my pen.
When I begin writing a poem,
the voiceless become my thoughts and I become the words of the voiceless.
When I begin writing a poem,
I only stop when I find no more pen,
for the bones are gone to the soil ben
And when there's no more ink,
for the tears, blood and sweat are dried up when there's no more heat
When I begin writing a poem,
beyond myself do I think,
till every line makes a sense
and the message is clear and felt.
By Jibril Abdulmalik ©2019
May 12, 2019
May 12, 2019 at 4:27 AM UTC
Life's most precious gift:
To live, we have to just breathe
But there're thoughts beyond thoughts,
Trapped in a realm, yearning to be freed:
If we hold this breathe seize,
We shall seize to live, but leave
But sometimes, to actually live, we have to leave
There's a thin line between sanity and insanity
Erased by our unsay
There's a thin line between Illusion and reality
Erased by our don'ts
This place of gracious enticement
Where we watch us being killed
A place filled with men of slightest thoughts
Amused by this illusional amusement
A place where nothing is real
Full of dos and don'ts, yet no one is free
Though we all came with says and dos
We've not by ourselves chosen to be free
We've trapped all those for the sake of our creed
Why then not hold this breathe seize to actually live
For stance where our thoughts could not reach
For life in a place we've never seen
A place where we're actually free
Why don't we leave to actually live?
—JIBRIL ABDULMALIK ©2019
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 2:42 PM UTC
Do not go far to listen to the praises of my heart
Listen to your heart
— the praises come from there —
I am there.
Do not go far by your actions to call me to yourself
Come closer
I am not far from you
By your voice, I shall hear.
—JIBRIL ABDULMALIK ©2019
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 3:25 AM UTC
We've walked too far to look back.
If we look back,
we'd think we've walked too far
from where we are coming from
and too close to where we are heading to.
But If we look forward,
we'd realize we've walked far
from where we're coming from,
but far from where we want to be.
—JIBRIL ABDULMALIK ©2019
Apr 20, 2019
Apr 20, 2019 at 8:40 PM UTC
I said it wasn't my country,
so I watched her milks turn acids
her blood diluting her rivers of honey
and her tears washing off her own fertility.
I had no fear—
for it wasn't near.
I said it wasn't my tribe,
so I saw,
but pretended not to have even looked
I listened,
but pretended not to have even heard
Yet it was written on my every line;
they aren't of my kind.
I didn't care—
for it wasn't my tears.
I said it wasn't my religion,
so I turned my back
reciting from my scriptures
I have eyes, but had no vision.
I had no fear—
for of God, who dares?
It came for my country, but I wasn't near
It went for my tribe, but I wasn't there
It came for my religion, but I wasn't aware.
Now it has come for me,
but there's no one here.
By Abdulmalik Jibril
©2019
Jun 25, 2020
Jun 25, 2020 at 4:58 AM UTC
There are voices
in my head.
They tell me
what to say and do
and what not to,
when to say and do
and when not to,
how to say and do
and how not to,
And why.
These voices
are those of my best friend.
They will never leave
as long as I live.
Is there a friendship
greater than this?
©Abdulmalik Jibril
Jun 22, 2020
Jun 22, 2020 at 6:41 AM UTC
To define a woman,
it needs more than just words
For their true nature is beyond thoughts
So, a woman is more than just who or what.
If through a woman was everyone brought
So not to say naught,
Till we forever find a better word
for now,
A woman is synonymous with the word "world"
—JIBRIL ABDULMALIK ©2019
Apr 20, 2019
Apr 20, 2019 at 7:32 PM UTC
Cast not your glance on the beauty of the stars
Look here at this eyes, they are the beauty of the galaxy.
Kiss not these lips and render them speechless,
for they mayn't know to sing the songs of your heart and soul
Whisper not in this ears, but to this heart,
For this ears mayn't bear the weight of your words
Look beyond the pale,
Look not for gold, but this soul
For it sings praises of you
Love not this body nor this heart, it is but dust
Love this soul with all your soul
It is not me nor you, it is us.
—JIBRIL ABDULMALIK ©2019
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 2:27 AM UTC
When I stare or listen,
my thoughts do same
And I'm left speechless.
So what do I say
when my thoughts stare or listen?
What do I say
when I cannot think?
You are trapped within my thoughts for aye
I'm in love with you,
not your body
For you are not the body,
but the soul.
—JIBRIL ABDULMALIK ©2019
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 3:37 AM UTC
Unless we tolerate,
We are not peaceful.
Unless we endure,
We are not patient.
Unless we let go,
We are not yet free.
Unless we trust,
We have no faith.
Unless we are compassionate,
We are not humane.
Unless we care,
We do not truly love.
Unless we love,
We have not actually lived.
Unless we understand,
We do not fully know.
© By Abdulmalik Jibril
Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 4:43 AM UTC
This is Malika:
A queen, whose jingling beads charm kings to stoop,
And beauty intoxicates men to stupor.
That even men of muse ponder upon her mute
And how her smile drives the clouds and her voice calms the winds.
The star that does not leave my sky,
even in the darkest of nights.
With brilliancy like that of the rising sun;
Whose ray of love has blurred my vision:
All I see is beauty upon beauty and light upon light.
The peacock of birds who walks in beauty and humility
That no eyes can see, but mine.
A cure for the soul that brings the heart to its senses.
This is my Malika and I am her Malik.
©By Abdulmalik Jibril
Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 5:11 AM UTC
I cannot find any masterpiece
How then do I plan?
There are no shoulders on which to stand
Shoulders of any giant of great stance
How then do I view the remaining journey?
How do I understand?
Tell me, is there still hope for me?
The one I love does not love me in return
All along, I was waiting for a train at the bus stop
I was played — taken for fun
Can the heart still beat after it has been torn?
When will I stop hearing the 'pii pii pii' or 'puun puun puun' ?
When will I ever hear the train horn?
Tell me, is there still hope for me?
I walked with my greatest companion — my thought
Much was I shown
Even beyond what I seek, in gracious colours
Only to reach the journey end to be betrayed by my own thoughts;
What I seek, never sought me
Tell me, of what difference am I from a soldier who trained forever, only to meet his end in just a day, at the battle front?
Tell me, is there still hope for me?
Should I think less of my so called friends
or should I say much of them?
They only show up whenever I find a gem
They deliver panegyric when things are right
And they come by day to leave at night
Shouldn't I sink in thoughts of my home sweet home?
Shouldn't I say less of my very own?
Whom I danced to his great plans — plans for me alone
Great plans for the tomorrow that is never known
Only to find he never had a plan, not even of his own
Tell me, is there still hope for me?
Who should I run to?
Where do I go from here?
Please teach me how to stop thinking
So I may conquer my fear
For I've sought far and near
I've written to many eyes and sang to many ears
I've cried out my heart, but no one seems to care
Tell me, is there still hope for me?
Which leader would you refer me to?
Is it the one who preaches only what the people want to hear
Or the one who looks at evil and pretend not to see due to fear?
Is it the one who says what the heart cannot bear
Or the one who preaches, but does not want to be dared?
Tell me, is there still hope for me?
I am here
all alone
You may not understand me
that, I know
You are not under this tree
How then will you know the nature of its shade?
—JIBRIL ABDULMALIK
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 2:42 PM UTC
They said every sun that set will surely raise,
And in-between is but time.
What if I rest and never raise,
But you awoke to the sunshine,
Will you bring me the sun where I lie?
Will you hug yourself to comfort me with your smile?
If tomorrow comes, o friend
And you awoke before I do,
Will you wake me up
And give me from your meal?
Will you be my friend still
Or you will unveil what I feel to be real?
If it rains on your farm before mine,
Dear friend, do not forget
That we first watered the soil with our sweat
And through the thick and thin of life,
We dared nature with a smile.
Tell me, o friend. Tell me.
If things never get right and fine,
Will you still be by my side?
By Abdulmalik Jibril
Dec 24, 2019
Dec 24, 2019 at 4:03 AM UTC
When you see me smiling —all by myself
Or dancing —holding hands with the wind,
Do not think me crazy.
For this music, only my kind understands:
The echoes of the songs of the beloved;
The reflection of the beloved's beauty.
From where no one hears nor sees
But the lover.
By Abdulmalik Jibril
Jun 6, 2020
Jun 6, 2020 at 2:42 AM UTC
Do not try to be beautiful
You are beauty itself
Why try to be what you already are?
Set not your body on fire.
It will surely burn to ash
Ignite your soul.
Light up your path,
That others may follow
For you are not this body,
but that soul.
Embellish your heart and soul
Love not your body with all your soul,
but your soul with all your body
For you are not this body,
but that soul.
Cast not your glance on the beauty of the stars
Seek your soul.
It is your true self.
It is the beauty of the galaxy
Look beyond the pale,
Look not for gold,
but yourself.
You are most valuable to your possessor.
For you are not this body, but that soul.
— JIBRIL ABDULMALIK ©2019
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 3:16 AM UTC
It is not in your beauty that I found love;
It is in your love that I see beauty.
And if you care as much,
I would care more.
If you care more,
I would care most.
For this path of ours is not blind,
But truth from love's perspective.
If hate ponders this path of ours,
It shall find nothing of its kind,
But evolve,
Just as we have, in love
Beyond all barriers –the isms:
Racism; tribalism; religionism,
To become one –WE:
You, me and love.
©Abdulmalik Jibril
Apr 4, 2020
Apr 4, 2020 at 6:45 AM UTC