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Anton Angelino Jun 2023
Amina, he works for Wilhemina.
Amina, we’re almost at the end.
He comes from Argentina, I only want him when I think of the man who doesn’t love me.
I’m just a ****** to you, but to me you’re as integral as oxygen.
Amina, he loves me when they hate me.
Amina, we’re so real for this.
He’s from the Philippines, sexts me from overseas, helps me **** time.
I’ll send him nudes but won’t tell my sign, cause we’re not meant to be together.
I don’t know if I’m there yet, Amina, I’m a ****** to you, but you love me at least.
When the man who doesn’t love me wants me I’ll be there for him every time of night and day,
but for now I’ll be sexting my thoughts away with Latinos that don’t even know my name.
Sad but beautiful.
Beautiful but sad.
I wanna go back to Las Vegas.
Take a swim in Silver Lake.
I wanna do something fun.
Amina, he works for Wilhemina.
Amina, we’re almost at the end.
He listens when I feel unheard.
I’ve still got things to say.
Don’t text me on weekends cause I have nothing on my mind.
I only want you when I’m lonely, I only feel like I want a boyfriend when I hit rock bottom, when I realize no one loves me.
He comes from Mexico, I go incognito and I watch him shake his ***.
I’m done with the sad boy ****.
This is my last collection before I get a boyfriend.
Amina, he works for Wilhemina.
Amina, he loves me when I’m worthless.
Sadly beautiful
Beautifully sad
I mean nothing to him, but he gives me more than the man who doesn’t love me.
It’s what keeps me from crying these days.
There’s nothing else for me to say.
Amina, we’re here.
Poem #14 off “Divine Providence”

I started meeting guys online this year and it was the best decision I’ve made in a while. This poem continues the theme of making the most of what I have. Just having fun. Cause I can.
Najwa Kareem Aug 2017
Ramadan 2017 in Sarajevo, Bosnia                      

The first day and the second

What a blessing!!!

Brothers and Sisters in the Old Town speaking the words Salamu Alaikum

Sisters wearing veils with colors like in the bright rainbow appearing before me and my two new friends from Bosnia in a sky above a bussling bazaar, there a smaller group of humans watching and a larger group of tourists capturing a rare moment in Sarajevo on photo

Many brothers wearing kufis and many brothers with trendy hair styles paired with Western outfits gathering in the courtyard of Gazi Husrev-Bey Mosque, the largest in Bosnia and sixteen centuries old. Tourists from Africa, America, Europe, and other landscapes and many locals exchanging words and gestures in a month better than a thousand

Families spending time together at the Grand Mosque and at smaller mosques and in other places surrounded by picturesque hills and green plush trees

A father, a mother, their toddler son...he practicing walking on a masjid's cobblestone, and their young daughter...she smiling at her father as he walks by. Each family member physically at a distance from each other. Each family member at a cell's distance in communion with each other.

In the mid afternoon on a Ramadan's day, a sister from Munich and I having met for the first time at Bey Mosque ride together in a taxi up a steep hill to see a guest house she knows

A smell of lingering cigarette smoke permeating the air within the house so thick beckons me to leave politely and quickly. Unaware of the smell's degree, the owner learns of its' offensiveness as I disclose my sensitivity to & the dislike of the smell of cigarette smoke, both acutely heightened while fasting

Careful steps back down the steep hill to the city center, me avoiding stumbling on a large rock or being runover by a speeding automobile, interestingly instead I stumble upon a beautiful grave yard of uniquely shaped white gravestones and a charming mosque with a high minaret

At the bottom of the hill sits a crafts and artistry shop, one of many in Sarajevo's Old Town. Upon entering and a brief conversation with the owner, a piece of generosity is handed to me, a square shape piece of wood with Ayat tul Kursi in hand calligraphy

During the late afternoon hours, a time for reading Quran by many at mosques in the city. Sisters and brothers sitting on carpeted floors, some with backs supported by mosque walls, some with bodies sitting in chairs, fasters occupied with the most perfected Divine Scripture

A brief leisurely stroll with my two new friends Dzenita and her sister Amina through part of the Bazaar, they sharing opinions of their favorite restaurants, best eating experiences, and other things

In the early evening, a time to buy food to prepare for the Iftar meal. Showing me how it's done in Sarajevo, Dzenita and Amina invite me to join them on an excursion up a hill to buy Somun, a Bosnian flatbread topped with black seeds from the city's famous bread maker. Standing in a line longer than Georgetown Cupcake, Dzenita surprises me with a gift of Somun for myself

Two dates, one cube of Bosnian delight, and one cup of water to break our fast with at the Bey Mosque. A canon bomb sounds off to announce the time for Magrib prayer and Iftar, customary in Sarajevo during Ramadan

Startled and alerted by the bomb's depth and volume, I stand up to join the congregation for communion with God, The God Most Gracious, Most High

Out of nowhere I'm invited to Iftar at a shop nearby the Grand Mosque, about 8 of us guests being served by the warm owner, she offering a meal for Iftar at her shop every night during Ramadan, a big-hearted tradition of hers

Cevapi, Cevapi, Cevapi...I'll say it once more, Cevapi -- sold in Bosnian restaurants, cafes, bazaars, and made in many homes, eaten happily by many fasters at Iftar. Served with freshly chopped onions, some served with a soft white cheese, some with a red peppery sauce, many served with Somun, all ways tried by me and tasting as scrumptious as my first experience with Cevapi in Germany, then falling in love with it

Cold winds at night from the surrounding mountains, a refreshing air yet taking my breath and power away from the chill of it, completely disappearing with my start of Isha prayer with other Muslims and the declaration "Allah hu Akbar"

9 Muftis with impeccable Tajweed each taking turns to recite the words of our Grand Lord before sunrise, me weeping from God's messages, the reality of His greatness, my servitude to Him, and a recognition of sounds similar to that of my Mumin Father's, those familiar to me since birth

Three dear sisters, university students from Turkey and I journey together on foot after Fajr from the Old Mosque to a street train, along the way stopping by a community center, our destination - their home an hour or so away to rest, the four of us coming to know each other and each others' thoughts with every step. Contempleting my desire to spend more time in the city over sleep, the three sisters showing great generosity and I embrace and exchange Salams at a stop near the main station, the three walking with me to an open place before continuing on

In the land of a marriage between the East and the West and where newspaper is used to clean a cafe window, on the list of to-dos -- shopping for gifts for family and for souvenirs, window shopping done along the way, asking myself Shall I buy a Dzezva, a hand-made Bosnian coffee set, or a vintage wood Sarajevo box, or a woven wallet, or Bosnian sweets.

In a bazaar walkway, Maher Zain's song "Ramadan" playing loudly. At another moment, lyrics about a month of devotion and sacrifice from Sami Yusuf echoeing. Shop owners in Old Town with dispositions of calm and quiet grace greeting me and others cordially and respectfully. Shopping a few hours more until near sunset for post cards with a real version of the Grand Mosque, finding only less than satisfactory versions. Time running out for shopping, another reason now to return to Bosnia, God-Willing

Magrib prayer a second night at the Gazi Husrev-Bey Mosque. Observing the crowd, a striking occurrence taking place, a teenage boy walking a small length behind a man on to the mosque carpet. There the boy approaches an older man giving him a respectful hand shake. After prayer, a native of Sarajevo shares with me in wholesome conversation, "You are known in the town not by what you have. You are known by how well you behave."

Another invitation, this time for a cup of a tea at a cafe. Overflowing with people mostly young adults, men and women sitting at tightly packed small tables inside and a few outside, conversations merging into each other with a loud volume flowing throughout, Shisha being smoked by some, cigarettes by some, smoke in the air and the temperature inside melting away heavy make-up on sisters' faces. "This is Ramadan in Sarajevo." Madia says. "One aspect of it." says I. Not having a good feeling right away when walking in and not wanting to stay, the two of us leave quickly.

My two new friends Dzenita and Amina aka angels of hospitality and kindness reciprocating my gift to them of Milka chocolate give me a gift before departing the next day. "Tespih!!" A burnt red and yellow colored set with sparkingly gold thinly cut wrapping paper looking stripes purchased at the Gazi Husrev-Bey Mosque gift shop. Not knowing then I collect Tesbih, their gift is now my most favorite of my Tesbih collection

Husbands and wives, men and women both young and old, well-groomed and well-dressed, some holding hands as they stroll through narrow pathways in the Old Town on a Ramadan's night. Families talking and eating at restaurants, friends in groups sharing laughs, so much to see, so much to experience. At a cafe where baked goods, ice cream, and other sweets are sold, a lady sitting with a group of others initiates speaking to me, stopping me in my tracks. Bidding me farewell, she extends me a gracious compliment

Ramadan 2017 in Sarajevo, Bosnia to Remember

The first day and the second

What a blessing!!!

by Najwa Kareem
Safana Sep 2020
She is like...
A white lily
on a surface of
powder stone,
growing like a
golden limestone,
standing like a
statue of
of a beautiful
baby doll,
she is a light
that off  my sight,
Having a smile
like sunny day,
She is a star 🌟
like beautiful
Twinkle star,
Her red labial
as a red rose
flower
from Longwood
garden,
her eye's beauty
is more than
beautiful eye
of mantis shrimp,
walking more
than a
Taylor Swift
on the ground
of fashion parade,
She breathes
sweetly,
talking nicely,
and
Lovely she is,
A beautiful
White Amina
Amina, she is a young lady claiming innocency having bright beginning and anticipating beautiful future. She had an expensive character to see her everyday but unexpectedly one time I sensed her dophamine connecting to my cardiac system.
Safana Jan 2021
In this
special time
my hand will
take a dress
to attend the
paper floor and
to dance with
a colorful pen

For your beautiful
Birthday
Tonight

Happy Birthday
Amina
HBD to Amina♥️🥀♥️
Sonnet.


Amina bondit, - fuit, - puis voltige et sourit ;
Le Welche dit : « Tout ça, pour moi, c'est du prâcrit ;
Je ne connais, en fait de nymphes bocagères,
Que celle de Montagne-aux-Herbes-potagères. »

Du bout de son pied fin et de son oeil qui rit,
Amina verse à flots le délire et l'esprit ;
Le Welche dit : « Fuyez, délices mensongères !
Mon épouse n'a pas ces allures légères. »

Vous ignorez, sylphide au jarret triomphant,
Qui voulez enseigner la valse à l'éléphant,
Au hibou la gaieté, le rire à la cigogne,

Que sur la grâce en feu le Welche dit : « Haro ! »
Et que, le doux Bacchus lui versant du bourgogne,
Le monstre répondrait : « J'aime mieux le faro ! »


Écrit en 1864.
Jacob A Oct 2014
What a year was 570 AD
A person was born, a prophet to be
Muhammed (saws) that was his name
People were misguided and thats when he came
He would go on to leave all the idols behind
He is an example to all of mankind

Rabbi al Awwal the 12th, that was the day
He came to this world to show us the way
He was born in Mecca, the holiest place
A life full of challenges he was to face
Abdullah (ra) his father, had by then passed away
Leaving Amina (ra) his mother, in her arms he lay

Haalima Sadia, took over his care
Until he was six, our prophet was there
His mother then died, he was left all alone
Abdul Muttalib (ra) his grand-dad then made him his own
When our prophet was nine, his grandfather died
Abu Talib, his uncle, became his new guide

In his 20's, a merchant Muhammed (saws) became by trade
Al-Amin, (the trustworthy) became his grade
Hazrat Khadija (ra) aged 40, became his bride
He was 25, with her by his side
To the poor,she gave away all her wealth
A dedicated wife in sickness and health

360 idols in the Kaaba, they were at that time
Our prophet realised that this was a crime
He would go to mount Hira,leaving behind his wife
Reflecting and wondering about the meaning of life

While thinking there in the midst of the night
He heard a loud voice which filled him with fright
It was the angel Gibrail(as) who asked him to read
Our prophet couldn't and didnt take heed
The angel embraced him and then asked him later
Read, Read in the name of the Creator
Who created man from a drop of blood

Our prophet couldn't read but at that time he could
Our prophet rushed to the path straight ahead
He heard a voice from the heavens which said
Muhammed (saws) truly you are the messenger of God
Muhammed (saws) was scared and thought this quite odd
'Praise be to God' his wife said instead
''I know you've been chosen as God's messenger' she said
And thus Khadija (ra) became the first woman of islam

And over the next 23 years came the revelation, the Quran
He preached to all people, every creed every race
Yet so many hardships he had to face
There were fears for his life, then the Hijrat took place
He then entered Medina, all by Allah's grace
He was greeted by the Ansaris who gave their salaam
To him and his companians,the Sahaba ikram

Then came the battles, which were fought face to face
Then the conquest of Mecca, Muhammed (saws)'s birthplace
An Nasr was revealed, it's message was clear
Muhammed (saws) knew that his time was near
Everyone gathered to hear his last speech
little did they know how far Allah's message would reach

Muhammed (saws) gave us the miracle the Quran
And now a 1/4 of the world follow Islam
He is our role-model, the best of mankind
And has left the Quran and his Sunnah behind

Read the Quran as much as you can
The words of Allah (swt) for the guidance of man
And follow our prophet's sunnah, when eating and dressing
And send him salutations and many a blessing
He came to mankind to show us the way
And Insha-Allah, we'll meet him, we'll meet him one day
Read please.
Before I became a woman, life was just a collection of childish adventures
Playing "ten-ten" in the evening, oblivious to the chickens coming home to roost.
"Always" was just another word and the only cramps I experienced
were those that resulted from climbing too many trees.
Barry was just "the boy with the big head"
and Joseph was my "play-play" husband.
"Hide and seek" was not a game of hearts
and cartoons always had a moral lesson.
*** was an example of a "three letter word" and life was so simple without having to wear a bra.
Before I became a woman,
fathers were always the men and wives were always women.
Nobody confused those roles becaue
"Ali" was always the boy and "Simbi" was the girl
"Adam was to Eve" as pencil was to eraser.


Before I became a woman,
foolishness was not sold on TV because the truth was preached in black and white.
A ten year old was still her mother's baby  not bride of bearded old man.
Children were going to be leaders of tomorrow,
"Twerk" was not an example of a verb
because Hannah Montana still had her clothes on.
The boys didn't stop to stare and tease because I was unripe for harvest.
Sunday school was about "How the fish ate Jonah"
and not about Salem my newest "crush."
Before I became a woman,
I wanted to marry a doctor, pilot, Jack Sparrow,
or the boy next door.
Then I grew up...


When I became a woman,
Life took on a new meaning
A collection of choices and decisions.
The boys didn't want to play no more and mama said I had to be lady.
Sally and Amina didn't want to talk anymore because puberty had reared its head
and boys were more interesting than our games of old.
When I became a woman,
I learnt about purpose and the ills of society
I stepped back and saw that little girl gradually fade away.
I did not try to run after her, her part in my life was  over.
I watched her go with a mixture of pain and happiness
I stepped into my woman suit and made my own mistakes.
I cried my own tears and bandaged my own wounds
I knew now that life was only fair to those who never gave up.


Now lipsticks and mascara have replaced a lot of play things.
Now I am woman and I want to marry ambition, guts and a man who is not too proud to believe in God.
Now I am a woman but no  child is still a leader.
Now I am a woman and I own my mistakes
Now I am a woman and I am not afraid to love, live or pray.
Now I am a woman but I have more than a figure eight.
Now I am a woman and I understand my mother better.

I pray for you young girl,
may you have the courage to wave childhood goodbye
when the sounds of womanhood begin to reach your ears
May you be brave enough to miss a game of hopscotch
so you can catch a train to destiny.
And when you are ripe for marriage
may you not look for a man that will validate your existence.
Put away childishness as you wait for that boy
that has become a MAN WHEN YOU BECOME A WOMAN.

#EchoesOfChildhood #PoemsForTheYoungMe #Womanhood #Love #Live #Play #MoveOn #Energie
Born Apr 2014
I hate this world, the more I am in it, the more I feel the need to look for a way out.

But that is no way to go for a man as great as I, I will wait and see what fate has in store for me.

When the world wakes up in the morning, the first thing they see is the beautiful sunrise.

They feel the warm rays on their face and breath in the fresh air.

When I wake up in the morning, I just feel the weight of my existence pressing me.

Pulling, pulling and pulling and I am afraid, for the time will come when there's nothing left to pull.

So tell me is that a way for a man as great as I to live?
Sayeed Abubakar Dec 2016
[Dedicated to Aung San Suu Kyi, the greatest Fraud of all times]

Darkness like Halagu Khan is running
taking sword in hand;
Light is fleeing raising its tail.

The decorated dream-city will lose its
electricity for ever;
in all directions, the slogan of hyenas
will be heard only.

Going to the shade of Bodhi Tree,
I asked Gautama Buddha,
'By tasting which poisonous fruit,
your disciples have become insane
and have been involved in massacre
in Myanmar? '

Hanging his head, said Gautama, 'Darkness.'

Going to Bethlehem, I asked Jesus Christ,
'By drinking which grape-juice,
your disciples have become insane
and have been involved in massacre in Mosul,
Baghdad and Syria singing of democracy? '

Hanging his head, said Jesus, 'Darkness.'

Going to the holy home of Moses,
I bowed down my head and said, 'Would you
tell me, by eating which Manna and Salwa
your disciples have become insane
and have been involved in killing children
and women in holy Palestine? '

Hanging his head, said Moses, 'Darkness.'

Going to Mathura city, I said to Lord Krishna,
'Please tell me, by eating which food
offering to deity, your disciples have become
insane and have been involved in massacre
in Kashmir, Delhi and Gujarat? '

Hanging his head, said Krishna, 'Darkness.'

Darkness like Halagu Khan is running
taking sword in hand;
Light is fleeing raising its tail.

Again the days of darkness have descended on earth.
I have been searching Abdul-Muttalib's son
Abdullah's house in Pharaoh's city—
in such a thick darkness, no doubt,
the Sun of the desert had risen
in the lap of Amina!

[Translated by the poet from Bengali]
It is a protest against Myanmar Muslim killing by Aung San Suu Kyi
He abierto la ventana. Entra sin hacer ruido
(afuera deja sus constelaciones).
«Buenas noches, Noche».
Pasa las páginas de sombra
en las que todo está ya escrito.
Viene a pedirme cuentas.

«Salí al rayar el alba -digo-.
Lamía el sol las paredes leprosas
Olía a vino, a miel, a jara»
(Deslumbrada por tanta claridad
ha entornado los ojos).
La llevan mis palabras por calles, ascuas, no lo sé:
oye la plata de las campanadas.
Ante la puerta de la iglesia
me callo, me detengo -entraría conmigo-
si yo no me callase, si no me detuviera-;
yo sé bien lo que quiere la Noche;
lo de todas las noches;
si no, por qué habría venido.

Ya mi memoria no es lo que era. En la misa del alba
no dije Agnus Dei qui tollis pecata mundi,
sino que dije Marta Dei  (ella también es cordero de Dios
que quita mis pecados del mundo).
La noche no podría comprenderlo,
y qué decirle, y cómo, para que lo entendiese.

No me pregunta nada la Noche,
no me pregunta nada. Ella lo sabe todo
antes que yo lo diga, antes que yo lo sepa.
Ella ha oído esos versos
que se escupen de boca en boca, versos
de un malaleche del Andalucía
al que otro malaleche de solar montañés
llamara «capellán del rey de bastos»
en los que se hace mofa de mí y de Marta,
amor mío, resumen de todos mis amores:
Dicho me han por una carta
que es tu cómica persona
sobre los manteles, mona
y entre las sábanas, Marta.
qué sabrá ese tahúr, ese amargado
lo que es amor.
La Noche trae entre los pliegues de su toga
un polvillo de música, como el del ala de la mariposa.
Una música hilada en la vihuela
del maestro del danzar, nuestro vecino.
En la cocina estará escuchando Marta;
danzará, mientras barre el suelo que no ve,
manchado de ceniza, de aroma, de trigo candeal,
de jazmines, de estrellas, de papeles rompidos.
Danza y barra Marta.

Pido a la Noche que se vaya. Hasta mañana, Noche.
Déjame que descanse. Cuando amanezca regaré el jardín,
saldré después a decir misa.
-Deus meus, Deus meus, quare tristis est amina mea-
luego volveré a casa, terminaré una epístola en tercetos
escribiré unas hojas
de la comedia que encargaron unos representantes.
Que las cosas no marchan bien en el teatro,
y uno no puede dormirse en los laureles.

Hasta mañana, Noche.
Tengo que dar la cena a Marta,
asearla, peinarla (ella no vive ya en el mundo nuestro),
cuidar que no alborote mis papeles,
que no apuñale las paredes con mis plumas
mis bien cortadas plumas,
tengo que confesarla. «Padre, vivo en pecado»
(no sabe que el pecado es de los dos),
y dirá luego: «Lope, quiero morirme»
(y qué sucedería si yo muriese antes que ella).
Ego te absolvo.

Y luego, sosegada, le contaré, para dormirla,
aventuras de olas, de galeones, de arcabuces, de rumbos marinos,
de lugares vividos y soñados: de lo que fue
y que no fue y que pudo ser mi vida.
Abre tus ojos verdes, Marta, que quiero oír el mar.
Debanjana Saha Jan 2018
I found you when
I had no path to walk
There was fun all around
But not within me
And out of no where
I found you to be-
My bestest friend
A sister
A little cute-
"Amina"!

You turned things around,
We found each other
With little less differences
And could tolerate each other,
a little more than
we could tolerate others!

Whenever low,
we know,
we are there for each other.
With thunders
and storms around
We stand still
Far off though
But still awaiting for
our hearts to meet,
With a single beat!
A beat of affection, love and comfort,
Not required everyday
But within seconds,
the bond of love we have
The happiness surrounds us
Like the happy winds all around
And from crying to again smiling.
Yes, that's how we are.
Love to be alone but not left alone.
Glad that I found a gift called* Mina!

**Happiest Birthday wishes to you Mina.
This poetry is for Mina who introduced me to Hellopoetry. The bond of love we share is from far off but never away from each other. We are a beat away from each other though miles away to cross. Wishing the bestest birthday wishes ever. May God bless you in every way.
Dre Poetry Sep 2019
I'm Aminah
Ain't a minor though
By age maybe, not by brains
By body maybe, not heart, nor soul
That's I'm not a minor
Call me Aminah

I don't take chances, that are evil
I walk through mine only chance
Setting goals that'll suite my eyes
And that are achievable
That's why I *****
Just call me Aminah.

My presence at a music scene
Ain't a fame driven step
I do that to serve, to save
And to show love to us all
I ***** to paint a great image
Ain't a minor, I'm Aminah.

It doesn't show that I'm beautiful
I'm just because my heart feels clean
I'm because I'm kind and generous
I'm because I serve the society
I'm beautiful of course
That's me, Aminah.

Maybe that's what I was born for,
The big screens in your house wall
Or the one on your tablet huh
Just to excite your heart big
And set a scene of love there
I'm the only one, Aminah.
The Unspoken Jun 2016
One day I will refuse to prepare your meal and you will come home to an empty fridge because my hands won't have the strength to hold on to a cooking spoon no more.
One Day you will get so late to work because I shall not be able to wake you up in the morning because I slept late, sobbing all night while you were busy dreaming of Natasha and Amina.
One Day you will have to reach home and do all errands to the market and back and office and back because my feet won't be able to stand and do **** for you no more.
One Day you will show up for family events alone and get questioned about me by your relatives who are so fond of me and you will have nothing to say because I had to be at the hospital to nurse my black eye,broken thumb and swollen mouth and knees.
One Day you will be so sick in bed and need your soup or a helper but my spirit will be dead alongside my body in the other room of all the pains you inflicted one me.
One Day, Just one sweet day, I will get up from that bed, dress up, leave the door and I will never come back. You will wait for me, but I shall not show.
Najwa Kareem Sep 2023
September 23 is for Harmony
Yippee
23 plus 5 equals 28
The birthday of Allah's Prophet (PBUH), a most memorable date
2 plus 3 equals 5
days later, God hollers, Eid Milad Saeed, we're live
Your birthday starting last night
with a full moon shining bright
I waved happy birthday with a schoolgirl's sincerity
and you said back, A rainbow lunar halo, for some a symbol of harmony
To the most honest man, the most trustworthy human
Messenger Muhammad's full of Iman and taqwa, alive with stocks boomin
A fighter against injustice, oppression, colonialism, imperialism, racism, sexism, any ill we name
As Musa said, Somebody has to explain that paper money is the key threat in this game
The Final Chosen One went low to get he and others high
Talking God's words, speaking truth respectfully to help call girls get shy
On 23, God said, Enter the world a bright smile Harmony
On 28, Here comes good people to celebrate, a beautiful bumble bee
A most lovely man, we shout for, Yay, she saying, Cheese
His humble reply, Thank you. No, please
Insisting we give thanks and show gratitude to the one who birthed The Prophet, Amina
and to the ONE who created him and his daughter al-Zahra, Fatima
God's dutiful servant urging us, More eggs in the basket for the akhirah and less in the basket for the dunya
She too would say, your Siti Haneefah
We're here today, September 28th already and tomorrow will soon be gone, no more a life
An exuberant cheer, We love you dearest Prophet and your most beloved and favored wife
For Ahmad, Hamid, Mahmud, the focus, the VIP today
From a grateful student and from a thoughtful Auntie, this poem is for The #1 Muhammad and Harmony K

By: Najwa Kareem
HAPPY BIRTHDAY PROPHET MUHAMMAD and HAPPY (BELATED) BIRTHDAY HARMONY (on purpose to acknowledge, honor, and celebrate your/her birthday at the same time as The Holy Prophet's) 🎁🎁
leechyna May 2022
Kids drawing Tom and Jerry,
teens watching Tom and Jerry,
grown up playing Tom and Jerry,
sadly death too playing Tom on us-we're all Jerry

Muslims acting holy
Only to amina not Polly
kanzu on Monday not a swag
Friday they have it ironed and acting like a dawg

Christians home
Catholics only believing in Rome
pagans judged by their sins
Pastors home making scenes

Human like us-who don't care
Watching drury and football
Sleep and gals is all we care

Let's go home
That's all I can say😰😰
Safana Jan 2021
I see bright
I see sunshine
In the time, there is sun rise
in your beautiful day
I see your smiling
In the time, you are dreaming
In the full moon night
I see glamour and white
in your luminance eye

On a floor of your
Birthday
Beautiful Amina
Cut it well, the cake 🎂
Safana Jan 2021
Just for you,

I brought an
e-cake 🎂, a
birthday cake
to cut for the
celebration of
your beautiful
birthday, AMINA
Safana Jan 2021
Nakedly, my eye couldn't
see how fitted you are...
An eye attached to my
heart will visually
explore you through a
magical dreaming and
to browse how stunning
your brightful face look
in this very beautiful
birthday of your

Happy Birthday
To You
Amina
🎂🎂🎂
Safana Jan 2021
Without saying to the
narrow strip, it's spread
to the air and the
particles conveyed the
message to the ear but
It thought to be precious,
A precious day to recall
the celebration of your
beginning and the starting
point of your breath in this
beautiful world of your


Amina
Amina

— The End —