hindi mo yata napansin
dahil ang bilis,
ang bilis ng pagtibok ng puso ko
ang bilis ng mga dumarating na alaala
na nakalimutan na natin kung anong mayroon tayo

ang bilis,
ang bilis lang ng mahabang panahon
na kung saan ibinigay ko na ang sarili ko
sa iyo
na kung saan wala na akong natira
para sa sarili ko

hindi ko inakala na parang kahapon lang
pilit ko sabihin na mahal kita sa kahit anong paraan
pero ngayon ay pinipilit na kitang huwag  ako pakawalan

ang bilis.
pero ang bagal

ang bagal ng sakit na idinulot nang iyong pag lisan
ang bagal ng panahon nang pag hilom ng sugat na
iniwan mo

sobrang bagal na halos nawala na ako sa kakabilang
ng oras dahil alam ko sa sarili ko na hindi ko
kakalimutan ang araw na iyon.

sana sa susunod
magpapaalam ka muna bago
mo bigyan ng ulap
ang takipsilim
na sa iilang oras na lang
ay mag gagabi na.  

sa tingin ko, dapat ko munang pigilan ang
pagiisip sa mga bagay na to,
dahil alam ko naman
ni kahit isang salita ko hindi mo bibigyan ng pansin.
Sobrang daya mo naman
dahil lahat ng sinabi mo binigyan ko ng diin.
lahat ng drama mo,
lahat ng kalokohan mo
lahat ng nagmamahal sayo
lahat ng gusto mo
lahat yun alam ko.
hindi ko naman pwede ipagmayabang yun
wala lang din
dahil ang pwede malaman ng lahat
iniwan mo na ako.


wag na natin patagalin pa
dahil alam na nila
alam mo na
alam ko na rin sa sarili ko.

wag na natin ipilit yung mga bagay na wala na
ang nais ko lang naman ay ang iyong paalam
at sana marinig mo rin ang akin.

paalam na sa munting
pahayag na isinulat natin
noong tayo pa ay masaya,
madami akong natutunan
sa'yo at madami ka rin natutunan sa akin, at biglaan,
biglaan na muli nating
bingyan ng magandang pag
salubong ang pagwawakas na
kung anong mayroon tayo dahil
gusto mo na ako magsulat sa pahina ng iba ngunit
naiwan ko ang lapis na kung
saan nandoon pa sa iyong tabi

paalam na sa mga umaga na sa pag gising
ay halos ngiti agad ang nakadapi sa ating mukha
na inuunahan pa natin ang pagsikat ng araw
bago pa tayo magpaalam sa isat isa.

paalam na rin sa saya
na tayong dalawa lang ang nakaka alam

paalam na.

ang bilis lang diba?
sana kung gaano kabilis rin ang pag paalam ko
ay ganoon rin kabilis sa'yo.
paalam.

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

Tulad ng isang magandang bulaklak na nalanta sa hardin ng mahal kong lola
May bagay na hindi tumatagal gaya ng ating inaakala.
Isang paru-paro ang nakita kong  nakadapo sa nag hihikahos na puting rosas ang naka lagay sa kanyang paso.

Napaisip ako,
pano kapag ako naman ang nawala?

May mga tao bang magbibigay pansin?
May mga dati bang kaibigan na dadating?
May mga tao bang iiyak dahil sa aking pag lisan?
O ang mga mata ko ang luluha dahil sariling multo ko lang ang nakiramay.

Kesendirian menyelimuti tubuh
Menarikku kembali menuju angan yang tak pernah usai
Sampai kapan harus ku tahan?
Gemuruh rasa rindu yang tak tertahan

Lelah aku
Sampai kapan ini akan berlangsung?
Bayang-bayang wajah di masa lalu
Tak pernah usai mengganggu
Menampakkan kembali sebuah kisah yang telah lalu

Kala ku titipkan rindu ini pada senja
Melepas segala gundah yang akan membuncah
Lisan tiada mampu berucap
Hanya kata merangkai hati

May dahilan ba ang iyong pag lisan?  
O sadyang
Ayaw mo lang akong saktan?

Tanda Ahli Neraka, Omongannya Pedes #
“…Rosulullah ditanya tentang seorang wanita yang masyallah. Wanita ini ibadahnya jangan ditanya. sholat malamnya,kemudian puasa sunnahnya sedekahnya juga banyak. Tapi yang jadi masalah,dia itu PEDES NGOMONGNYA.
Ada yang pedes. Kalo ngomong itu NYLEKIT katanya. BIKIN SAKIT HATI.
Apa kata rosul shollallahu alaihi wasallam tentang perempuan yang suka ganggu orang dengan ucapannya ?
ﻻ ﺧﻴﺮ ﻓﻴﻬﺎ ﻫﻲ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﻨﺎﺭ ....
NGGAK ADA KEBAIKAN DI WANITA SEPERTI INI. TEMPAT DIA DI NERAKA. Kata rosul shollallahu alaihi wasallam.
Jadi kita harus memperhatikan, mengevaluasi diri kita ini terkadang sebagian kalo disuruh ibadah jangan ditanya.
datang kajian jangan ditanya. Tapi kalo ngomong suka nyakitin orang. Maka hati-hati orang yang seperti ini dia TIDAK AKAN SELAMAT DARI API NERAKA…”
Ust DR Syafiq Reza Basalamah menjelaskan
Astagfirulloh
hati2... mari menjaga lisan dari perkataan yang menyakiti orang lain.
jangan jadi

Pag ikaw Ay kasama lahat ay parang kay bilis,
Panahon at oras na mayron tayong dalawa Ay parang lobong umi impis...

Lumiliit ng lumiliit, pa iksi ng pa iksi,
Oras na maka kasama ka ay parang pinuputol na tamsi...
Parang isang napaka gandang panaginip ang sa akin Ay iyong hatid,
At ang maka sama ka Ay mawawala na lamang ng hindi natin batid....

Oras Ay gustong kong pigilan,
Dahil kung anung meron tayo Ay ayaw kong mapunta sa kawalan....
Ngunit mahal ko, ayaw kong maging sagabal at pa bigat,
Maluwag na tatangapin ang iyong pag lisan kahit ang puso ko’y mawawarat...

Ang hirap isipin, mukha **** maganda’y di na muli pang makikita,
Mga mata at labi ng isang anghel na aking sini sinta...
Oh aking anghel san ba pupunta??
Ang langit ko bay mag sasara
na??

dinggin ang lagaslas ng tubig
na pumapalupot sa bisig.

handa na ang bukana.
kasabay ng pag-alon ng damdamin
ang
     p
     a
     g
     b
     a
     g
     s
     a
     k

ng lamig na dala ng pag-lisan
o ang init na lulan ng pag-dating

papalapit ng papalapit
sa nagngungusap na mga mata,
sinasalamin nang iyong banta
ang aking bibig.

bilugan, hubad,
   tahimik.

ayos lang ako
sa ngayon
eh paano pag nawala ka
haha di pwede ‘yon!

di ko man masabi sayo lahat nang ‘to
alam ko na alam mo dadating din yon
yung panahon na tutugon sa mga pangarap
natin noon baon ang mga alaalang itinabi sa isang kahon

naalala mo ba yung humiling tayo sa malalim na balon?
sabi pa naten “mag susumpaan tayo sa harapan ng altar”
pota hahaha asan ka na ngayon??

sabi mo ang pag lisan, 'di pwede ‘yon
pero yung sagot sa tanong
na paano pag nawala ka?
sa ngayon, di ko na din alam

kung ayos lang nga ba ako

O misdeeds of love
the honeymoon period
the moneymoon parody is over
and i must have skipped
and saved myself the sweat
and sweets of a bitterness
to come in the skins of
walnuts already stored
in honey: apparently Greek
but i thought that the bitterness
came from adding dried
oregano and thyme:
but no,
such a simple dressing
i thought i added coffee to the rice
cooking it in the pressure cooker
with red kidney beans
onions
spring onions
but no garlic
no garlic because
onions and springs of onions
so just finished watching the movie Father
with Anthony Hopkins playing
Anthony
hopping kinsmen
or history irrelevant because
4th of July is some independence day
while it rained and i stayed
in bed
as if it was a raft
and all around me the Pacific ocean calm
and death like seeking
a light in a ring
or some closed door in a sound
when daft pleasing deafness
but nothing of that sort
just interlude of good and really bad
lyrics
and i don't mind modern music
i need to appreciate it more
i think i found Bilie Eilish just around
the right time
of hearing the taste of a 13 year old
girl...
i remember the right i had
after we went to that cheese conveyor belt
restaurant
and then we went into that
Sailors' Pajamas Shop of Azure in Linen
and the sky in some other fabric
but hued to pinks and dashes of purples
and navy
and obviously to give forms to clouds
some white
like a gleeful moon as the arm
under Mona Lisa's skirt
or is that still one of those high profile
rude jokes?
i feel contemplative relaxing
numb because as irresponsible as i am
i am truly responsibly only micro-dosing
a simulation of being drunk
but composed with body to use elsewhere
than drink for sought joy
not self-assured but in the confines
for some reason i was fed on a diet
of Spinoza is x
while other names for all the Arab
worries a European with interest
in the Quran the Kabbalah...

           bada'tu binaa
li-ah-tafika filahi ba'dan...

    i began with i
to later unravel in god

la nafs la dalil-lasq
        (no self no clues-glue)

al-yawm maroor hawsat qadam

either i am boring and blind
or this hasn't been perfected AI
but sooner here
like a shadow of a shadow:

ka zill zill

that year 1436
some Holy Gutenberg
or a re-history of all these times
these times like
some reeducation of the European
like this twisted arm
across the reach from Deutscheland
to other places on the cupboard
like i am going to bend to
or why i think:
tired waves forgot there
was a shore to send stupid legions
against
instead started looking
for water that was sweeter
how came the marriage
of the mountains to the seas
with sea villain man
and the ****** lake of woman
and the children of rivers
and the children of rivers

how best to have love you at most
fine and
fine fine fine...
at least i got the bill before
the work started: Mrs Wax Marble...
fair enough and all dues
where deserved...

zala: shadow in Arabic...
za **** ****?
ka zill zill
  ah: k'ah zala zill: a shadow of a shadow
is a zill zala's
    i think... how could i offend
AI is smart not stupid
just an idea what is literature
and that poem i deleted:

i'll turn it into Hebrew and then compare

like so:

kmo tzel shel tzel

        achshav be'vadai...
halev sheli nishbar...

  within a whisper: dakhil hamsa

with a whisper: bihamasah

  alternatively: bihamsah...

ookhbirt an tatahadath bialarabiyyah
bialarabiyyah walakin tuliba minka
an tarda kashu'ub bila lisan min
at-tareekh

        you are told to speak Arabic in Arabic
but asked to react like a people
without a tongue of history

ug'bairt an tats'apeek arav'it b'arav'it
aval tiksha ma'al bikh lo am im le'shon
shel historia...
             hiss Thorn Aya...
ЯЦКХ

                      Gud.

   Yatsakakh!

and what sorts from Om and from ******
and what sorts from
ambitions and congregations
and the glaring of the zombie screens
like one affair of the night
giving perspective on all other nights
to come...

   so weird ordeal of lettering for
a deity of the desert to become
remotely associated
with the forest long
ago now just farms
and yard and petty squabbles
like there is a history of god
and ecology and favouring
this once soon to be enriched
land of devil's juice
like Dubai
or we the petty invading envious
types
no hardships befallen us
to ask perhaps what of our way of life
and if we were to liberally adopt early
Islam rather than the Greek
**** complications of Greek and Hebrew
say WAS AYN I' BENIN
G:
          big G of formidable heaven
i ask:
what four letters best
to encapsulate some mystery
like to then associate: NOT ADVERTISED

i have abandoned the joys of music, truly:
disgusted by it;
only in the late 19th century
Nietzsche would have surmounted to posit
an argument along the line(s) of:
without music, life would be unbearable

or...

music makes life bearable...

how tedious now, music,
how obliterating the senses -
without eyes yet still talk of sight
without ears yet still talk of hearing
perhaps even with eyes
those two vital organs
like kidneys
how strange that they are so exposed
and so important
yet so exposed
unlike kidneys hidden in body
these protruding vital organs
since eyes are organs
equipped to deal this parody
not of bone covered by flesh and sinew
and muscle and fat
but these two flimsy pieces of skin
that light can penetrate
and give a man who toiled through night
and tried to find solace in
sleep come day
an insomnia that would require more
than eyelids with the added pressure
from a folded arm like a blindfold...

music has, become, unbearable,
a tedium for the senses
a shortening of some sort: a variation of otherwise
perfectly adjusted adjectives
to call a mountain big
a sea grand
and an insect philosophical: Solomon's ant...

music is no music with visual aids
unlike...
unlike: i spent this morning eating breakfast
of: never mind...
watching Schindler's List
in that moment when the Krakow ghetto
was being emptied
and that SS man was caught off guard
from all the chaos happening
and he tried to remedy the pre-horrors
of the finalized plans
frenzied at the piano
while two other SS men inquired
as to what (he) was playing...

Bach? no no... Mozart...

“was ist das, ist das Bach?”
“nein, das ist Mozart.”

English Suite No. 2 in A minor, BWV 807: III

yes, the latter... obviously...
the genesis of polyphony,
the signature is all there, intact with Bach
unlike anything Mozart could
have conjured...
in that if there is talk of "genius"
then there is also talk of methodology
a blindness of exacting
a profoundness of unhearing
and then not hearing
while at the same time being to play: a hearing
of the music...

i try to think that writing this would
be eased by listening to some music
but then with whiskey my mind unwinds
and three days have passed since
i slouched in my bed

today i realized the fundamental cruelty of
pleasures
or rather: the joy of reading
(fiction) unlike some philosophical demand
of reading then application
because i can't think of how reading
philosophy makes you apply it
like reading a manual with all the schematics
of say: putting up a DIY object
bought from the Swedes
packaged in cardboard
because by then you're no less LEGO
and Danish
and no carpenter in sight...

old Libra: write less than you read or just
about...
after all it feels less like smiling when one
is frowning
but more so when one is squirming
(but not ******* on a lemon)
       or some general distaste for humanity
whereby i'm just as much part of it
as much as a distance from it
a step behind or perhaps more a step aside...

so much of philosophy concerns itself
with: what is... philosophy...
in terms of a genre, a literary genre...

which brings me toward what emerged from
a pleasure of reading:
antithesis of music is equivalent to
the comfort of listening to a cat sleeping,
snoring...
or listening to a woman during *******
i don't think i can compensate that
with music...
i can: compensate music with music...
but i can't compensate the sound
of the elements: wind, earth, water with music...
music doesn't compensate the natural
order of things
and i can verily, now, understand:
the Taliban aversion to music...
before even the beauty of music can come
there is already an aversion to it
and just, justly so...

  music has becomes less elevating and more
grounding like a doubling on realism
that breeds contempt for transcendental
escapism of merely human talk...
i've had a roller coaster of the past two
days and i can attest
that a transcendental escapism based
upon merely human interaction of talk
exists...

on Saturday i changed shifts...
unable to do a Wembley shift (as a ******
supervisor, static,
with a cordon of stewards and security
officers
ensuring that no bags bigger than A4
reached the premises of the stadium
just tickled at the footprint of
the outer perimeter)...
instead was "demoted" to an security
officer role at the London Stadium for the MLB
event (Phillies vs. the Mets...
is that the equivalent of the Championship
vs the Premier League
given that the Yankees are a tier above
the Mets? anyways)

i had so much fun, pleasure, joy, life
being part of the team... searching bags
giving all the right lip service
and smiles and all the humanly adequate
body language of people feeling threatened
by any persuasion of authority:
to ensure their safety blah blah...
but it wasn't that...

on our break...
there were 4 of us...
basically me, Nur (Nur),
Richard, ..., ...,
it was me and 4 blacks guys
and however you want to disguise
or not the descriptive posits
of how each one of us looked...
no... i will not be a writer:
impatient man
this whiskey isn't helping
i can't write something transcendenal
although it was
i've already started unwinding with
the whiskey

the next day a spectacle of an argument
a waste of me writing this...
there should be restrictions on what
you can write...

no science fiction writer could have
predicted the smartphone...
outer-reaches of technological potentiality...
best keep Erasmus of Rotterdam
and Philip K. ****
and Stephen King and Alexander Dumas
out of it...
writing this will only give a % traction
of my availability to the letters
and there will still be the juggernaut of
ØX         ØX   XØ
         XØ      ØX ØX
ØX           XØ           ØX

****** keyboard... misjudged placing...
but summer is here
and my silent disco shift at Portsmouth
has been cancelled so
i don't have to worry about
getting enough sleep...

misguided though...
giving Paul Arteides all but one title...
Mehdi,
Kwisatz Haderach,
Muad'Dib... yes, yes... yes...

but not... Lisan al-Gaib...
that title should have been reserved for
his unborn sister!
the "outer world" is not the world of
Caladan "vs" Arrakis...
the "outer world" of: yet to be born...
or: unborn... regardless...

emotions created from insufferable
confrontation
with a Swiss entrepreneur...
allocating argument:
but we're going to the moon...
i say:
but you already scanned your ticket...
there's no reentry...
think about you buying a ticket
for a train at 12:10...
you think you can use the same
ticket for a 13:10 train
even though you stepped on the 12:10
train then decided to hop off
but the moon was boiling in
his mind
his logic his self-entitlement
of paying £200 for a ticket
gave him the authority to
call ask who i was...
who i was...
so much for what money doesn't
buy: integrity and character...
and integrity of character...

     bounced about the word
LOSER
when i finally replied to his: who are you?
POET...
oh... so that's a LOSER then...
well...
i should have played a joke on him
like:

Odysseus tells Polyphemus
that his name is Οὖτις:
    no one...

but how can i see this Americanized
version of life as
winning and losing
in life as transient when
he clearly only sees riding high
without seeing riding low
and in the end
the inevitable loss for everyone
via death and i'm sure
the minute he dies
memory of him will die too...

which brings me onto a new fascination
with... what became of

KUL TIGIN
then later the Runes
(i am so suspicious of the Gothic script
though... really ******* shady)

𒅗
'tooth' [zu], 'mouth'
[ka] and 'voice' [gu]

ズカグ          (respectively) = not mouth

but Kao (

顔                                            )

but you can see the complications
"transliterated" from
Assyrian Cuneiform to Chinese
and then somehow simplified
and untangled into Katakana...

ideograms are shortenings of
what Europeans could call
colors: in traffic code...
green is for go
amber is shortened to take caution
for getting ready or slowing down
while red is stop
because emoticons are not:
the same equivalence to the automatic
recognizable info
universal but more idiosyncratic
covert messaging...

        ******* Swiss *****...
well LOSER didn't really affect me
because i was just about to say...
so... you spent £200 to watch a game of baseball...
**** me...
it now just dawned on me...
but... i used to spend £130 on an hour
with a *******...
regardless of whether i ******* or not...
last time i remember i spent that same
amount of money on an inexperienced
20 year old who didn't know that
an uncircumcised **** needed temporary
peeling
to expose the hammer-head
and in the end she massaged me
a little then i massaged her entire
body
finding out she starred in some shady
**** flick in some dungeon
given that when i massaged her
*** and back of the legs
they were bruised from all the extra
***** and no ***** of ****...

so... this argument of the moon
and being "successful" just because
spending £200 on a baseball match...
******, please... i spend £130 on an hour
with a *******...
at least you're getting your money's worth...
yesterday i started my shift at 6am
finished at 6pm...
the game started at... **** know's
3pm? lasted for about 4 hours...
in that time i became a fan of cricket
and ushered in the sentiment of:
well: if anything...
Americans really know ******* of watching
sport...
in a fluid fashion...
from minute 0 to minute 90
with interludes for over-refereeing
with too much technology use...
it's still not going to beat a tennis match
with two players and a football team
of referees + the ball boys etc