"imam" poems
3 Maret 1924..
Tak banyak уαηg tahu αρα уαηg telah terjadi ∂ι hari itu | dahsyatnya makar & kemunduran umat telah melupakan peristiwa detik2 hancurnya institusi daulah Khilafah sang pemersatu
Hingga derita mendera bertubi silih berganti menimpa muslim ∂ι segala penjuru | teraniaya,terhina,tercabik,tertindas,tersakiti,terjajah,menangis tersedu
Umat уαηg satu tak lagi menyatu | terpecah tersekat oleh nation state buatan sekutu | bak anak ayam kehilangan induk terancam hidupnya sewaktu-waktu
Begitulah wajah muslim hari ini | ketika tiada lagi institusi уαηg melindungi | problematika terjadi tiada henti
Hari ini | tepat 91 tahun umat Islam hidup tanpa institusi Khilafah | saatnya melawan lupa & bergerak mewujudkannya
Khilafah janji Allah tersampaikan melalui lisan mulia Rasulullah SAW | walau banyak уαηg beranggapan utopis kembali mewujudkannya | yakinlah tiada janji уαηg pernah ingkar kecuali janjiNya
Nabi saw bersabda,
"Akan datang kepada kalian masa kenabian,& atas kehendak Allah masa itu akan datang.Kemudian,Allah akan menghapusnya,jika Ia berkehendak menghapusnya.
Setelah itu,akan datang masa Kekhilafahan ‘ala Minhaaj al-Nubuwwah;& atas kehendak Allah masa itu akan datang.Lalu,Allah menghapusnya jika Ia berkehendak menghapusnya.
Setelah itu,akan datang kepada kalian,masa raja menggigit (raja yang dzalim),& atas kehendak Allah masa itu akan datang.Lalu,Allah menghapusnya,jika Ia berkehendak menghapusnya.
Setelah itu,akan datang masa raja dictator (pemaksa);& atas kehendak Allah masa itu akan datang; lalu Allah akan menghapusnya jika berkehendak menghapusnya.
Kemudian,datanglah masa Khilafah ‘ala Minhaaj al-Nubuwwah (Khilafah yang berjalan di atas kenabian). Setelah itu, beliau diam".
[HR. Imam Ahmad ]
Saudaraku,
Telah tiba saatnya satukan langkah satukan perjuangan,
Menyongsong kembali janji Allah Sang Penggegam Kehidupan,
Tegaknya kembali Daulah Khilafah ∂ι atas jalan kenabian..
Takbir !!
Allahuakbar !
SalamPerjuangan!
#3RDMARCH1924
#melawanLupa
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 11:20 PM UTC
Your Messiah is not Christ
my Karma is not your dogma
Their AntiChrist is not the Mahdi
His avatar is not yet manifest
Our Dajjal is not their 12th Imam
Your Brahman is not my Elohim
The Atman is not the God-Man
Your God-Man is Luciferian
Our Lucifer is not their Allah
The Djinn are undocumented
some angels fell
Allah is not Ras Tafari
Their Zion is Babylon
Jerusalem is Egypt or *****
Their Angels are ascended Masters
Our Master is your ascended Savior
My Savior is your accuser
Their God is no Savior
His unction is Satanic
The war is spiritual
The Spirit is not obvious
My anointing is carnal
their anointing is moronic
our doctrine is angelic
Your rejection was predestined
our acceptance is divine
Our depravity is documented,
your sanctity is illusory
their power is diabolic
their light is darkness
Their leader is ungodly
Our God is unseemly
His Truth is offensive
The bitter is not sweet
the sweet is unworldly
the world is not heavenly.
Trinity in seven spirits, yet God is One…
Revel in the uncertainty. Have some holy fun
fitting more angels on the pin-head, dancing
before they fall. Rebellion is always entrancing
until the current postmodern theology
hooks up with psycho-sexual linguistic pathology.
Don’t accept my apology
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 8:57 PM UTC
Spacious and resplendent,
Summoning people only once,
Words replete with beauty,
The voice of the imam like music to our ears,
Performing Hajj,
People from faraway,
Come to pray,
In the house of God for seeking His light,
Forgiveness and prayer on their tongues,
Regret and guilt shedding from their eyes,
Quarrels and worries aside,
Not caring about colour and creed,
My eyes seek only forgiveness,
And guidance,
For making things right,
O God please forgive me !
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 2:24 AM UTC
Acara dalam rangka memperingati hari lahir (harlah) Ke-65 PW Fatayat NU itu diikuti hampir 38 peserta se-Jatim yang meliputi perwakilan seluruh pimpinan cabang Fatayat NU.
Hasil desain peserta diperagakan model andalan mereka. Tak kalah dengan model profesional, para model Fatayat NU ini juga tampak percaya diri berlenggak-lenggok di atas caltwalk.
Dalam lomba fashion show ini, peserta dari PC Fatayat Bojonegoro meraih juara pertama, sedangkan pemenang kedua diraih oleh peserta dari Nganjuk dan pemenang ketiga dari Fatayat Bangil.
Menurut desainer muslimah yang dinobatkan jadi juri lomba ini, Ana Farhasy, ada beberapa poin dimiliki peserta Bojonegoro sehingga meraih juara.
"Kendati bertemakan busana pesta muslimah, namun desainnya simpel dan elegan. Itu menjadi kelebihan sendiri daripada peserta lain yang banyak menonjolkan aksesoris sehingga tampak berlebihan," katanya.
Selain itu, peserta dari Bojonegoro menampilkan tema gold kayu jati. "Batik yang digunakan asli Bojonegoro," jelas Ana.
Sementara itu, Ketua Fatayat NU Jatim Hikmah Bafaqih mengatakan selain lomba fashion show, kegiatan lain juga digelar dalam rangkaian harlah Fatayat NU itu.
"Ada lomba menulis artikel, lomba menjadi presenter, dan bazar produk unggulan (handycraft) kreasi kader Fatayat di seluruh cabang Fatayat se-Jatim," katanya.
Ia menambahkan, puncak peringatan Harlah Fatayat NU dilaksanakan di kantor PWNU Jatim pada Minggu, 17 Mei 2015. Rencananya, acara puncak dihadiri Menpora Imam Nahrawi, Wagub Jatim Saifullah Yusuf, dan Ketua DPRD Jatim.
"Ketua Umum PP Fatayat NU Hajah Ida Fauziyah tidak bisa hadir karena berbarengan dengan acara prakongres Fatayat di Bandung," katanya.
Mbak Hikmah, sapaan akrabnya, mengemukakan tema yang diambil harlah kali ini adalah "Ikhtiar Fatayat NU menuju Indonesia Berkeadaban".
"Karenanya kita akan terus berusaha untuk melakukan berbagai karya nyata, tentu kita bangun ulang keadaban kita dengan Islam ahlussunnah wal jamaah atau yang kita kenal dengan Islam Nusantara," katanya.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/mermaid-trumpet-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/one-shoulder-formal-dresses
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 10:37 PM UTC
Mahatma gnaws at World War hungers
Reincarnated forms of Wild West lungers
Spatially realigning to a kosher and beloved state
Krishna stands ignored, can’t help feeling irate
Walrus tusks dig into the carpenter’s brow
As an eight armed saint is revealed as a cow
Scriptures packed and rolled, exhaled in suspicion
Prophets praised for violence incurred, act of sedition
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 3:09 PM UTC
it was the last day of winter
unseasonably warm
I was standing behind an Imam
his arms were raised
hurling prayers for peace
into the face of intransigence
black dressed armored
SWAT teams amassed
swinging readied M16s
vigilantly guarding walls
constricting penned citizens
waiting to place an
American flag
draped coffin
onto the growing pile
of other coffins
covered in the
multicolored flags of
Iraq War belligerents
swelling at the base
of the wrought iron fence
surrounding the White House
I saw a curtain in the
White House part
the window filled
with two tiny faces
I imagined it to be
Sasha and Bo
taking a break from
rambunctious play
to peer out on
a grim assembly
wondering
in confusion
whats going on?
why are these people
placing coffins
in front of our house?
Sasha and Bo
ran upstairs
to the
Oval Office
she burst through
the door
“Daddy people are
piling coffins
in front of our house
Why?”
The President
hugged his daughter
and answered…
“we’re at war
Sasha...
“the Evil Doers
hate us for
who we are...
“they want to
hurt us...
“we must ****
them…
Sasha asked…
“one sign says
our bombs
**** children…
is that true
Daddy?”
Thats a lie
right Daddy?
If you knew
children like
me were being
killed you wouldn't
let that continue…
would you Daddy?”
John Kerry
popped his head
into the office….
“Sasha,
your Daddy
would never
**** children
in service to a lie”
Sasha’s head tilted…
The President flashed a smile…
John Kerry walked away whistling…
giving no notice to the photo of the
Vietnam War Memorial
as he passed
Music Selection:
The Shirelles
Soldier Boy
Oakland
6/11/14
jbm
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 11:28 AM UTC
Sara L Russell 29th August 2016
Time to retire now, ladies,
the drawing room awaits
as the gentlemen go to smoke
and drink brandy
or tell ribald stories
unsuitable for a lady's delicate ears.
Time to work on our embroidery
or retire to bed.
The men shall retire whenever they wish,
and the stars are too many for us to count.
Now we must lie abed
dreaming of Mr. Darcy
or perhaps a future career,
If only one's gender
might permit such a thing.
Time to adjourn now, ladies,
Mrs. Pankhurst has said her piece
and the rozzers are coming
to break up our meeting of like minds.
I heard that she was in prison for a time,
and went on hunger strike!
oh yes, my dear,
I heard they beat her,
force-fed her
then left her to cry alone in her cell.
Only she didn't cry. She never cries.
They say one day we women
will be able to vote!
Yes, of course it could happen.
We deserve it, after all.
Time to adjourn now, people,
it's been a long session
and even ministers need a lunch break.
Mrs. Thatcher no doubt will carry on
making notes for yet another meeting,
I don't think that woman ever sleeps.
Even if she never does,
she has razor-sharp concentration
and a sharper mind.
You don't want to get
on the wrong side of that one.
Funny, years ago,
they never dreamed we'd have
a woman Prime Minister.
Not everyone agrees with her
yet few dare to disagree.
Time to retire now, ladies.
The men have important things
to discuss, too serious for our lowly ears.
Theirs is the sun and the daylight;
ours are the shadows that herald the dusk.
Gather your prayer beads
and lower your gaze.
Do not look into the eyes
of the Imam as you pass by
on the way to your rooms.
Do not let any breeze from the window
displace your veil.
Guard your modesty
at all times;
protect your respectability,
for it is all you have in the world.
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 8:28 PM UTC
Will you break off with me,
my beloved,
morsel for morsel laddu*?
My dream doesn’t come to me,
my bed is divided,
my heart – dry,
fire is rankling me.
You’ll regret,
my beloved,
if you taste it –
outside it’s sweet
inside – bitter.
Twice more,
my beloved,
your tear will run fast
if you pass me by scornfully.
In my chest
I wear a diamond of snake,
a lion-hair on my wrist,
a wealth of Brahman
in my head.
Will someone take them, gifted
someone else but my death?
Ah, my beloved,
marry me.
*a round syrup sweet made of gram floor
The original:
Ходжата тича само до джамията
Ще отронваш ли с мене,
моя възлюбена,
късче по късче ладду*.
Сънят ми не ме спохожда,
леглото ми е делено,
сърцето – сухо,
огън ме гложди.
Ще съжаляваш,
моя възлюбена,
ако го вкусиш –
отвън е сладко,
отвътре – горчиво.
Дваж пъти повече,
моя възлюбена,
сълзи ще лееш
ако отминеш презрително.
Във гърдите си
диамант от змия нося,
косъм от лъв на китката си,
богатство на брахмин
в главата си.
Ще ги вземе ли някой дарени,
освен смъртта ми?
Ах, моя възлюбена,
омъжи се за мене.
___________
* кръгъл сиропиран сладкиш от нахутeно брашно.
Translator Bulgarian-English: Vessislava Savova
rarebird
© bogpan - all rights reserved.
May 21, 2011
May 21, 2011 at 9:39 PM UTC
Have you seen a tree weep,
Not tears from it drop,
But, real blood.
Since 1200 years ago on the day of Ashura,
The day of martyrdom of Imam Hussain at Kerbala,
Mourns a big old fir tree,
In the Zarabad village,near the Ghazwin city in Iran.
Hussain was brutally martyred,
His head slain and hung on a spear!
Paraded through the streets of Kufa,
So he could save Islam.
This fir tree, in the morning of Ashura performs a miracle,
It sheds tears of blood,
Which trickle down from its branches and leaves.
It's not paint or water colour,
For the drops smell of blood.
If a tree can mourn Hussain,
How can we be left out,
On that day tens of thousand gather around the tree to mourn Hussain,
Many critically ill come for sole purpose to be cured by the holy blood.
With Hussain's death truth prevailed,
Islam prevailed.
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 7:24 PM UTC
In a far land known as Pakistan,
in the little town of Prym
Impiety was criminal,
And blasphemy a sin
A Christian woman stood accused
Of impious words and deed-
Did her words insult the Prophet?
Or did her neighbors hate her creed?
Tried and condemned for Blasphemy
in the little town of Prym,
The Christian woman waited,
for the stoning to begin.
The townspeople all gathered round,
pious Moslems one and all.
They chose their weapons from the ground
and awaited Imam’s call.
When suddenly the sky grew dark
The Sun obscured from view
A Nickel Iron stone from space
One, without sin, just threw.
In the place where Prym once stood
is a crater deep and wide.
There is no more impiety.
and no more fratricide.
Take to heart the lesson
Let hatred be unknown
Or next time He who is without sin
may cast a larger stone.
Nov 26, 2011
Nov 26, 2011 at 8:28 PM UTC
Iraq,a war torn country,
Amidst tight security,
Through a jungle of barricades,
And through a throng of people one must wade,
To reach the shrine of Imam Hussain.
At his shrine lies heaven,
A paradise that defies description,
Around you a jostling crowd, mourning,
Chanting his name and beseeching,
Yet,all noise is lost, no barrier,
Only you and Hussain the martyr.
You are at peace,
A Spritual bliss,
As the bars' of his shrine you kiss,
He listens,to him nothing is amiss,
What you have come for you will be granted,
No One leaves empty handed.
Time spent at his shrine,
Is divine.
Lost in his spirituality so intense,
Sudden shouts of the guards bring you to your sense,
"Move, move, make way",
As you leave you promise yourself to return another time or day.
That is the spritual power of Hussain,
That pulls you to his shrine again and again.
25/7/2019.
Jul 25, 2019
Jul 25, 2019 at 6:33 AM UTC
Life has gone too fast
It made me a big tortoise
Now
I am a tourist attraction point
But still I believe
That
All will be OK.
Qwan imam*
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 11:00 AM UTC
Dear sweet beautiful
I hope you can accept me and my piercing
Accept as deeply flawed
As a human
As some close to being beautiful
My loving female imam
Beautiful imam
You need no passport to my heart
As you welcomed
Mar 26, 2021
Mar 26, 2021 at 2:15 AM UTC
I will say astaghfirullah but
Imam, I am innocent
How heinous the crime I have committed but
No stones shall slit my back.
I will say astaghfirullah but
Old man, I am innocent
A child like me is not you yet
We are different but the same.
I will say astaghfirullah but
Darling, I am innocent
I will cut myself with your blade
Before I bleed pagan poetry.
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 9:30 AM UTC
Dad,
Can it be that you are gone now,
Five years' comings and goings,
Five solar journeys now, around the sun?
I can still see your shape,
Thin and worn,
Overalls, too big,
Cap pulled down,
Pliers hanging at your side,
Lace-up boots, worn,
And your face, lined,
Eyes still twinkling, though
Weary after a day's work,
Fixing,
Farming,
Fencing,
Feeding.
In my mind, you're
Going off to the barn,
To hay the cows,
Like an old imam
Heading mechanically
To daily prayers,
Moved by routines
Impossible to ignore.
The man and the work,
So embedded in the other...
No more thought of leaving -
Though as a younger man,
You spoke of some day retiring -
There was no way, and no desire,
Farming was your one remaining fire.
So, five years are gone,
And yet, everything still
Standing on the farm
Bears resemblances of you.
The peeling buildings, sagging still,
The gravel paths you tended,
The panels your hands welded,
The barns and sheds you built
Still stand, and bear the evidence
Of Arthur Bouchard's hands.
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 12:36 PM UTC
So the call goes out:
every priest, imam, rabbi, shaman
gets the same message.
Comes to them like a dream,
but there's no denying it.
"That's it then, folks,"
goes the mesage,
"If you haven't got it by now,
you never will.
We're off -
You're on your own.
B'bye."
And it's followed by this hollow ringing,
the great screaming emptiness
of space.
So of course they get together,
discuss what's to be done.
And the funny thing is how quickly they decide:
"Suppose we'd best
just carry on as usual, eh?"
"Suppose so, aye."
Which is why
you never knew
this had happened.
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 3:01 PM UTC
In the line of Abraham and Ismail took a sacrifice
To save the truth from the hands of falsehood, vice
Imam Hussain along with seventy two paid the price
Which made their direct path enlightened to paradise
Truth encountered falsehood with force of faith, belief
For sake of eternity humanity saved by decision of chief
As a verdict of God it was but an eternal declared relief
Blood of innocents for times to come became eternal grief
Till edge of eternity blood of martyrs blossom to celebrate
The battle of Karbala as a symbol of sacrifice is event great
No one no words can ever be able to its essence translate
Only staunch and true lovers can associate and ameliorate
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 2:13 AM UTC
Here I am
In Afghanistan
To protect the people from the Taliban
But
The Imam
Laughs at me
Says
Stupid man
This
Is your Vietnam
You’ve been here now
Near 10 Ramadans
And
Still you cower
In your armoured vans
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 3:53 AM UTC
Fine as hell
Said u don’t got a main chick
U lied (but I don’t care)
My new attitude is like **** it I’m on one (and imma get it)
Imam ***** you with my heels on
I don’t give a **** you fine as hell!
Can’t help but get a piece
My New attitude (It takes me over)
She don’t give a **** (she’s out spoken!)
She got skills in her head tht’ll make u trip
Slip and let u slide rite in
Oct 13, 2011
Oct 13, 2011 at 1:04 PM UTC
podseti me kako radiš očima ono
dok sediš na šolji
podseti me molim te
slobodan sam dva dana
ipak
moja je soba čistija od tvog tavana
čak šta više
pićemo iz čaša
čistih
imam sve
a nije užeglo
dođi bela
da vodimo ljubav
da jedemo smoki
pijemo pivo
dođi i
samo još ovaj put
okupaj se
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 8:58 PM UTC
imam
40 godina
18 zuba
i
urasli umnjak
imam
sedu bradu
i
ćelavu glavu
imam
vremena
na pretek
i
udobne cipele
imam
sve prste na rukama
tako da
šetajući mogu da
stiskam šipak
u praznim džepovima
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 5:51 PM UTC
Like fresh spring daffodil
Bursting through frozen ground
You appeared by my side
In the summer of '11
On a rainy afternoon
As we listened to the Marxists
And those who merely warned
The end was near at hand
You asked me for the shelter
Of my newly bought umbrella
I absorbed your pale blonde hair
And eyes of powder blue
An Imam raved and ranted
You must have been nineteen
I struggled with my conscience
Every time you smiled
If the end then truly came
As the speakers said it would
I'd have kissed you on the spot
My luck was not that strong
So I watched you walk away
Despite an implied offer
Turned to face the Marxists
Left my heart with you.
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 9:24 AM UTC
KEIN RESPEKT Für SIE, NWMI
NO RESPECT For YOU, NWMI
Generally speaking, KEIN RESPEKT
In the grand scheme of things,
they do NOTHING FOR THE OPPRESSED
NWMI tun im Grunde NICHTS FÜR DIE MUSTADHAFIN
Tell me, what have they done for Yemen?
Tell me, what have they done for Palestine?
Tell me, what have they done for Syria?
Tell me, what have they done for Nigeria?
Tell me, what have they done for Myanmar?
Tell me, what have they done for oppressed Blacks in America
besides feeding some black persons who are homeless
food of lesser quality than they fed themselves at their Galas/parties and at their Eid celebrations
and offering a few BLM programs during BLM's buzz moment, trending time, media coverage frenzy?
Unlike many other Islamic, non-profit organizations run by Muslims,
they have all this money to do a lot with
And comparatively speaking,
they continuously have all this money to do a lot with
Though NWMI, you've learned from with unyielding thanks to them a few Imams and leaders
branded as freedom fighters
voices of the oppressed
who have taught you accurate information
and as far as I know, have not been guest speakers at any of your "signature" programs
So you encourage social responsibility through service
Serving who?
Serving "your own"?
Serving those who in comparison to the world's oppressed and needy
and to those oppressed and needy, both Muslims and non-Muslims in your own backyard
don't need to be served
Ha ha, what a joke
"Hold on to the rope of Allah all together and be not divided." Qur'an 3:103
in bold it reads, a welcome to their website
Well, they've divided themselves
They've separated themselves alright
from the Mustadhafin
The most oppressed of the believers,
they've separated themselves from
I'm sure the ones you look to as role models
the Ahlul Bayt (AS)
would highly approve of your complicit, apathetic ways
Their feet followed the Mustadhafin everywhere they were
everywhere they went
You're NOT following in the Ahlul Bayt's footsteps
You're NOT
We smell hypocrisy and we hate that smell
We hate that smell called hypocrisy
KEIN RESPEKT Für SIE, NWMI
Tell me, what have you done for Iraq?
Tell me, what have you done for Afghanistan?
Tell me, what have you done for Somalia?
Tell me, what have you done for Pakistan?
Tell me, what have you done for Palästina, for again, Palestine
"...PALESTINE CONTINUES TO BE THE ISSUE
and ISRAEL, ZIONIST ISRAEL CONTINUES TO BE THE PROBLEM." (IMAM ASI, 5/2008)
Surely, you know, they're dying right now
They're mourning right now. RIGHT NOW
Tell me, what have you done for them?
Tell me, what have you done for me and my people...yeh the ones who are suffering in unfathomable ways all over the place?
Tell me, what have you done for my bleeding mercilessly, oppressed family?
Tell me, what have you done for my yelling loudly, screaming their hearts out for help brethren...our brothers and our sisters?
Tell me, what have you done for my regularly targeted, innocent, dear human friends?
In the grand scheme of things,
Nix
Nothing
KEIN RESPEKT Für SIE, NWMI
NO RESPECT For YOU, NWMI
I THINK YOU HEARD ME
By: Najwa Kareem
Aug 12, 2022
Aug 12, 2022 at 5:37 PM UTC
Dear God
Please save my soul
As I bow down
In the Mosque
And my body is cold
and I daven in the Synagogue
I secretly hope you're keeping a log
I need a guardian angel
To tell me that it'll be okay
I need to feel more stable
I hope I'll live another day
And I refrain from pork
Or Ursury
None on my fork
You're abusing me
With no response
I listen but I don't hear your song
I've stopped listening to music
The radio's not on
Pray 5 times
And then I pray three times
Bismillah before I eat
I thank you before my seat
I'll find you when I hear the chant
I'll be emancipated from the devil's hands
I'll hear your call as I feel the Adhan
Forgive me I am only a man
I ask the Imam for spiritual guidance
I meet the Rabbi but only silence
I seek but I don't think I'll find it
I only ask for your sacred kindness
In the water I wash my feet
I wash my face to purify
I fall down onto my knees
I think that I have truly died
Show me your presence
Show me your face
Show me your heaven
Show me the way
I wish you could hear me
And the words that I say
Amen
Aug 30, 2017
Aug 30, 2017 at 11:00 AM UTC