"aisha" poems
Hijab is my crown
shaped in a circle
around my head
like that of a full moon
bringing light
from the One
who has commanded me
to wear it
to my face
Hijab is my crown
shaped in a circle
around my head
like a merry-go-round
rotating with a joyful force
in places near and far
illuminating its power
a reflection of my soul
and inner beauty
Hijab is my crown
shaped in a circle
around my head
the way whirling dervishes move
we're so high
aspiring nearness to Allah Masha'Allah
our act of wearing hijab daily
deserving of much respect
and Insha Allah
The Seventh Heaven
Hijab is my crown
shaped in a circle
around my head
like a spinning wheel
many made
in different colors
and in different textures
each brightening the world
and when wearing it
like Khadijah (AS), Fatimah (AS), and Aisha (RA)
attracts attention of the best kind
Hijab is my crown
shaped in a circle
around my head
like Big Ben
I'm so high
dignified
a visible ambassador
of Islam
saying no to immodesty
and saying yes to our Majesty
Hijab is my crown
shaped in a circle
around my head
like a halo
starting my day with Bismillah
and looking into the mirror
to carefully donn it
I remember
I'm doing this to help men
married and unmarried
from sinning
and to protect myself
from impurity and immoral acts
as
Hijab is my crown
for me a Queen
By: Najwa Kareem
Jan 31, 2021
Jan 31, 2021 at 2:42 PM UTC
*where are women really safe?
how is it that society-collect FAILS
as humanity stumbles yet again.. and again?
our lady-folk are not safe*..
Amaya-bai finds little comfort but in sibilant-twin
as no eye of sun nor ginoo laid eye on this binukot
Olga is the silent-saint; believes in charity at home
yet chaos ensues too easily - she is wronged and just gets.. lost in the system
Zandile fetches precious amanzi in her sun-soaked calabash
her vigilant-sister falls.. roving guerrilla-men from the river's edge
Michelle, la petite belle, survives the daily-grind via low-coin
tubes to Champs-Élysées as assistante-de-pharmacie
Aadita, from the outset at 15, dons a veil hiding ****** acid-burns
she has some relative-luck to escape sati later on
Amy with downtrod-heart, grabs the tram to downtown family
wearing dark glasses and gloves on rainy-day blues
Emiko graced (yet cursed) with beauty struggles with ancient-practice
despite the ban, silent-suffering lotus-gait in the tiny village
Aisha may be alive but not well from ethnic-marking tragedy
as irugu are outcast from all-too prevalent gishiri-cruelty
*might as well take a trip to Vladivostok
or be dumped in a sarcophagus
beneath the Pyramids
safer there*
S T - 27 sept 2013 - freitag
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 3:59 AM UTC
I call you forward to witness thee,
The nightmare, crimson reality,
Red soaked sheets,
A story of once an innocence, now is gone,
Torn away from my flesh,
I ask you this, where is my choice in all of this,
I have had snatched what is mine, robbed, I seek justice but there is no answer.
My cries, cries fall on silent ears,
Through the years, my cries are also now silen-ced,
I have become a story to myself,
When I now tell of my tragedy, I don't cry
Nor do I give that bitter, characteristic laugh,
I look hollow and stare hollow and feel hollow.
… People think that I’m shallow.
I am fine with that,
When has it ever been my choice?
I cry and scream and no- one helps, and passers-by snigger as they go.
...’’She got what she deserved, she had asked for it, what, dressed like that!’’
‘’She should thank her stars, that someone wants her anyway!’’
After all, **** is a kind of... love.’
That’s part of the irony…
I don't feel that loved.
- Felinely, Aisha.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 5:04 PM UTC
As humans, we like to think we are humane,
What is humanity?
We like to think we’d be there for our friends; we’d be gentle on our foes,
We’d forgive and also maybe forget; we’d sacrifice and be moral.
When our morality is under question, we’d be loyal and we will live honest lives,
We won’t backstab or ***** about others; we’ll be upright in our opinions,
We’d be righteous and true and withhold composure within the most strenuous times.
We would work for the betterment of society and cosy with strangers,
In Hope that they will be friends.
We’d look for beauty in the world and we’d be happy though strive for more,
We’d live happy human lives and leave behind a legacy for others to aspire from.
We’d be all that we wish we could be, and more.
But how many of us are like that?
Not one. Not one human being.
We lie, we torture, we hate.
We’re not benevolent on our foes, we wish evil upon our friends,
Our morality is outward and forgiveness a rarity.
We plot, we ****** we hate.
We think these things are to be proud of,
We live of speaking evil; it is a need, a drug.
We break. We hurt. We hate.
We blame others for our mistakes; we never take the fall,
We take advantage of those who love us, we run after those who do it us.
We burn nature and wonder why it balances out with human sacrifice,
We live human lives, but wish to outlive our counterparts, looking constantly,
For immortality.
Our legacy is of lies and façade. We are the supreme race and we proudly
Hate, hurt, ****
Doesn’t matter, its human nature, we think, we feel it, we just don’t say it.
Felinely- Aisha.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 5:13 PM UTC
aaja kahi Tere sath chale
ji bhar ke tujhko Pyaar kare
Aise dekhu tujhe Kya baat kahe
Naina hi Pyaar ka izhaar Kare
Sochu tujhe , Aisha khwab rahe
Ki baaho me Teri , saari raat Jage
Aaja kahi Tere sath chale
Ji bhar ke tujhko pyaar kare
Bhige magar na barasat rahe
sanso ko mere ,tera ehasas rahe
Apr 11, 2020
Apr 11, 2020 at 5:46 AM UTC
Life is about taking breaths
But the most important times
Are when it is taken away
And all that haunts a displaced child
Is when their breath was lost then found again
From the moment a 3 minute warning is given
Where does one evacuate to
When already in a shelter
As bombs blast
And shots echoe in the near distance
When the ground shakes in pain
There is no time to think
No time to act as shrapnel came flying
To pierce their skin
And homes collapsed
Walls caved in
Only to harden their resolve
All out of tears
They no longer fall
When they get used to the pain
They recite the martyred like a grocery list
Mum
Dad
Brothers
Sisters
Aunties
Cousins
Uncles
Friends
But the souls of lost ones are trapped in little hearts
Caged in past dreams
Where Fatima still comes to play with Aisha in the courtyard
Even with her head twisted off by the guards
Tariq and Abdul play marbles with charred fingers
Maha clings onto yesterdays that can never be the same
Where her father's farm was ripe
And days were spent out in the field
A child sees a child does
So they accept they were born to die
And pick up a stone to fight
At least they must try to protect themselves
Even animals reserve that right
It's instinct
Basic defensive nature and survival needs
Yet the world condemns them
Serpents that bare snakes
They are terrorists in the making
As curses cry out from anger and hatred
A crime to be born in the middle east
The gates and borders of surrounding countries
Closed for their emergency
Where the only place to go is through the doors of heaven
Which are wide open
And in this case is it cruel of me to say
Maybe it is a better option
Than to live and die a thousand times over
Mentally disturbed
Overwhelmed with distrust
All that will be left are robots
That have nothing to lose
Time that should be spent in school
Is a time that will never come back
And everyday is a chance lost
Scars that will never be overcome
Eyes that have seen too much
These angels don't belong here
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 5:55 PM UTC
My contri people
I tire for this mata
Person run go there na wahala
Person waka come here
I beg wen I see
Serious kasala
My contri people
Story full ground
Na so Aisha for detim side
Dem no fit go school
Dem no even fit sleep well
Unto say these people
Dem call BH
Fit just scatter ground
My contri people
We young soji people
We bin reason am say
If we hustle go school
Lock up for morning and afternoon
Softly arrange Ewa Agoyin for night
We believe say our Suru go lere
My contri people
Person turn ogbologbo for school
Sake of say na wetin
Sake of say na so so strike, haba
My contri people
Dis no be story for us o
Na story for the gods
E no get any work for any where
How person wan do Bad guys
Pepper no rest
Day before yesterday
Yomi just come lament
Unto say him chikala done follow one Chidi
Way come from America
International
Yomi say Shade say
'' I am not getting younger
My biological time is ticking
You are 37 still leaving with your parents
I hope you understand''
My guy breakdown
Come to think of the mata
Shade get truth for her talk
She done tire, she done try , she done wait
If na your sista nko, omo na to port na
She got to move on mehnn
I no blame her
Now dem say na election
******* mehnn
As you see me so, I no send
Dem say DEMOCRACY
Demo wat
I say demo fire
My contri people
I NO VOTE
I VOTE O, I NO VOTE O
Who go win go still win
We cry o, die o, shout o
Dem go just look us like lucozade
My country people
people dey bailout
Go yonder
I send dem now
Because that na the way forward
Ds mata no be today
Story full ground
My countri people
Written By; Esther Esuga
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 3:56 AM UTC
Drugged by its techniques
Swooned into its emotion.
To its addiction we lay prey.
Call me crazy, it acts as a compliment.
Neighbours of the Mad Hatter we stay.
Awakened by a sudden Volta.
A little hangover,
Short on sleep.
Darkness collapses as I weep.
Because what isn't said
is shed in tears.
Shift in tone as I speak.
Reflection in the mirror only reveals
the levels of weakness I try to conceal.
A necessity it is to see the glass half filled.
Now it seems to me that half the glass spilled
out words I swallowed with complication.
In the presence of pure motivation
when I was Sober..
All I want is to start over.
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 6:18 PM UTC
Atul said:
We'll dine together,
We'll dance together,
And we'll relax together.
We'll create possibilities,
We'll explore possibilities,
And we'll plan possibilities.
We'll flirt sweetly,
We'll play mutually,
And we'll love heavenly.
Aisha says:
Walk on the streets late night,
Holding hands so right,
Lit are no lights,
Listening to our sighs,
A golden peace in our sights.
We do not allow anybody,
To separate our united body,
We show the world so boldly,
How we move so lovingly.
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 2:10 AM UTC
Dost thou still want it?
This that beats for you?
This that stutters only for you, in every sense of the word?
But what are words?
I've yet to see prose that taught me rhythm,
Just as I've yet to see love that taught me to love.
By God, I hate the lies that come with love -
I hate the joy that comes with love, when t'has left me -
But then how can I love love?
That Cupid's wings are clipped I swear to know;
Then how to take a poisoned shot from below
Without flinching?
Aye, that glorified hunter,
He is not a lover's friend
And it is not he that crafted this;
It is not he who fights for this;
It is not he who chooses if his wound
Is cauterized by your touch
Or is fatal.
Such an unsteady ***** is the heart,
Always frantic;
Always too quick or else too stagnant
But 'tis our driving force that pulls us back
In more ways than one.
Mine is yours if yours is mine
And he cannot claim the key -
Not if you give it to him to hold.
Because the key is not just in the necklace
You wear to sleep and wear to run,
And wear when seams are left undone;
It is your own that holds the shape to cause the click,
And perhaps, if we lay close enough, you'll hear'th it.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 8:10 PM UTC
Musa stands for banana
But his name sake was Furhana
His headwear folded like samosa
Not to be confused with mimosa
Yet the fold was like Koya's head towel
Even the fantastic Ayamu's downwell.
That said: Koya heckled with his sickle knife
Never failed in the field to sit and file
The blade to trim out the hedge's tendrils rife
Closed one eye to see the fence's profile
The cutting-hedge technology of fence
Continued without denouncing offense
Rarely reaching any end, the dense
Fence talk gains again as every day commence.
Beauty creation was his faint inclination
At the entrance of the tea plantation
Stationed near to the police station
Part of his task unasked in the division
Was standing and talking to the man on the bike
Talks like, the strike, the Labour wages hike,
How to dodge a strife for a fair bounty
With words coated with 'chondy-chandy sugar candy.
For its said, he can wear any colour, I-uhml-green or P-yellows
To send jaundice or dainties to the Poor-fellows.
The talk prolong as the baron mellows
Till the madam's call comes from the bungalows.
Back to Musa, sorry for the interruption, he was left behind the lines...
For names of Mayan, Maanu and Jaanu make a beeline
Like Beebi and Kaybee, maybe the guy too, sounding Shanghai,
All are bonanza, for a due stanza.
Musa chirped with chops of English
And fizzed out the name of fish and dish
Proud that he worked even with some British.
Once he mumbled the name mom and mummy
To call out his humble wife to introduce
The visiting chummy colleagues, over there.
Her numb eyes goggled out of a slimy shawl to reduce
Her head to a crummy Kameez that beleaguered on her.
Not knowing what his trendy husband is telling,
And why he is calling her before them, Asia instead of Aisha!
His friends knew her trouble and told her its alright
And that made her feel she is the same Ayichumma on her own right.
Once Musa stumbled on the name 'chips' at a shop in the city;
Ordered the same along with other civil society
While seeing it packed, he grumbled for his stupidity
And burst out, "O, just the Koya fried banana, that's aplenty in our vicinity".
The shopkeeper gave a laugh,
And there, Musa left in a huff!
Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 11:25 AM UTC
Isn't she the righteous woman
Isn't she the living treasure
Isn't she the loveliest girl
That I've ever seen
I'd never thought that
I would fall for her
But now I did
and I don't want to
stop anymore.
She's my eudaimonia
In this world full of bad lucks
life is aisha
The meaning of
Her every smile
And her life
That I would say
She's the righteous woman
She's my living treasure
She is my favorite girl
She is the loveliest woman
That I would ever love.
Feb 28, 2020
Feb 28, 2020 at 5:58 AM UTC
Hi it's me again it's been a while since we've since we spoken. But I just wanted to ask you why do I feel so broken.
I've shattered into pieces,yet no-one sees me crying out for their help. You see me. Do you? You can fix me. Can you? If not...it's ok. I will be ok....atleast I hope so.
I'm okay,
Aisha
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 12:22 PM UTC
I met a damsel
She is a goddess
Her beauty is endearing
Her aura, infectious
If you know Veluptas
The goddess of sensual pleasures
Then you'll know Venus
The Roman goddess of love
She pulled her magic wand
None could ever resist her
For she passes as a diety
If this is the road to yonder place
Please help tell my people
My choice is made
Afterall, once shall all men die
In her enclave were beauties
Mortal frames in immortal entities
Aisha Quandisha played aide
The magnificent goddess of sexuality
While Aizen Myo-o watched
This goddess of love and lust smiled lustfully
She was a fine sadomasochist
Nothing else mattered
Fearful, nostalgic but ecstatic
I braced up for impact
Like an airplane about to crash
What a **** way to explore and expire
Testosterone became active
He is the god of passion
His name is Anteros
He stepped up to me
Gently he whispered to a mortal
In the land of the immortal
Here, you don't need aphrodisiacs or tramadol
A good show lasts five minutes
Thirteen by extension, trust me he said
Confused and puzzled I inquired
Then why do the earthly Queen say "Harder, harder"
They never get satisfied
"Stop killing yourselves mortals"
If it exceeds thirteen, it is entertainment he said
Go, enjoy it while it lasts
Go worship in her altar!
As I approached with caution
Flanked by Cupid
The Roman god of ****** love
Suddenly, I resurrected
Back to the land of the living
It took an anopheles mosquito
To make me realise it was all but a dream
So, i was plagued by chronic malaria!
Even though the mosquito I killed
For denying me pleasures forever
I learnt a great lesson Except my will is updated
Never again will I use enhancers
In place of tiger nuts, dates and banana
Lest a WhatsApp status last longer than me
To be awarded a Ph.D
As a researcher per excellence
In the faculty of Gender and Sexuality
In the prestigious University of Life
I need to reach Venus
The goddess of love
We need to finish the empirical study
Via the instrumentality of direct knowledge
If you know the quickest route to Venus
Please "Hulla", "Odimkpa"
Who knows, maybe we can go together
I guarantee you maximum "Shishi"
What I can't guarantee is
If the story will be told by us
But history will be kind to us
For this is a plague destroying homes
The onus of truth lies with us...
Oct 27, 2019
Oct 27, 2019 at 12:53 AM UTC