I don’t breathe
I wheeze relentlessly
From ages of run
Of shot gun
barbaric ghosts made of broken sun

I don’t know
Where all went wrong
Now..
Its stuck in my head like a horrible song
Melody so strong it’s written in my forehead
Wrinkles crawling deep around my red eyes
I’m aging

I don’t breathe
I wheeze fearlessly
I carry my broken sun around
Like a heavy crown
Pushing me towards the end

But NO
I am a tree that grows tall
Refuses to be small
Or pushed around
I am not a burden
I refuse to be a show
For your lazy white eyes

I ran here and met
shot gun
barbaric ghosts
who hate
the colour of my skin
the shape of my proud chin
the pin on my hijab
they wished the flavour of my tongue had changed
thin..and turn into a thing that's opposite to my skin
they thought I was weak easy to prey on

But hey!
This
Isn't your show for you to Netflix and chill
I am not clowning for you to grill
I am a poem
Made of a volcano fluid
Don’t get too close,
or else you’ll lose your toes
I am a mango tree that grows tall
Refuses to fall

And I am telling you
I am telling you
I will sew back my broken sun
Re-write my glory with a golden pen
Re-breath fresh poetry into my broken song

one day
I will stop running
Breath slowly
while drawing stars under mango trees

Oh..you hissing cockroach

Deep in the night

When everyone is asleep

you're scared by the tiniest whisp

Yet possess that endless spunk?

that adventurous soul 

You Scurry in Hurry

Chasing that far rainbow,

No, don’t you worry

 Don’t you believe what they claim

When they say ‘you’re nasty and unclean’

When they say ‘you’re blind and unkind’

Oh you poor cockroach...

Don’t be wary to follow the rain

Or to spread those wings that were drained

Even when its so bleak
swimming in the deepest drain

lost in an endless pain

That’s when you need them most

When you need my voice

'Don’t you ever listen to humans

For their cruel, even on one another'

                                           My Cup of Tea

Hours on phone...

Laughter, giggles, and rejoice  

All of sudden..

the sky is bluer

weather aint  that cold

and...

I don't need much sugar in my tea

Daydreaming, my eyes are sparkling

I think you're a diamond in the rough

my kinda cup of tea

:) 

My New Pep Talk

Every morning I have a dramatic fight with myself in order to pull myself out of the blankets it doesn’t matter how early I slept the night before. I think to myself ‘you’d get used to it or your body would condition itself ‘but, no, it never really does.

“I am shallow” “I am a very lazy person” “Asia you will never reach your dreams if you continue in this route” I tell myself as I rush off late from my door.

My father is a workaholic. I always admired his hard work and respect for time. How he manages and disciplines himself. I remember one night while I was wide awake at night watching some addictive Tv show. I heard an alarm sound going off, and then the next thing I know was my dad opening the door and entering the wash room to pray Salatul Qiyam . I can swear that the course of the alarm didn’t even finish.

I asked my dad the next morning how he manages to wake up instantaneously like that, he said “In the presence of Allah’s messenger, peace and blessings be upon him, a man who slept at night until morning was mentioned. Allah’s messenger (PBUH) said that is such a man whose ear the Satan urinated. I want to piss off Iblis that’s why I jump off from bed”

On other occasion my dad said he tell himself this, when he finds it very challenging to wake up “Hurdooy wan ku so dhimanaya” meaning “sleep, I will find you when I die” that’s how my dad maximizes and stretches his abilities to do his eibada (worship) and work.

I think one has to have specific short-term goals that keeps him grinding, that pulls him off bed in the morning. You need to wake up earlier than others if you want to reach higher peaks, if you want to cross wider seas, to attain more ajar you need sujuud before Allah while everyone else is asleep.

I lack that focus now. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I do have big goals in the grand scheme of my life. I want to be closer to my Creator (Allah) Inshallah. I want to be somewhere big with my Psychology career in my mid-thirties.I want to become a writer and a motivational speaker on the side. But how can I ever reach anything when all the books I'm reading are half completed. When I do my work half-heartedly and don’t go that extra mile. When I don’t give my writing the daily doses it requires. When my sleeping takes 1/3 of my time? And most importantly when my Qura’an is picked up only on Fridays?.

The only real journey in life is our journey towards our creator, discovering what our ultimate purpose is in this life. Re-connecting with what is natural and innate in us and ultimately connecting with our Creator and worshipping him the way he only deserves.

Some of us were blessed more than other and were taught that divine truth early one. Some of us were taught but still took the U turn to return back. Some are still searching (May Allah make it easy for them and guide them to the right path). We don’t all start the race from the same point but we all struggle with our own limitations and urges. And we all sin differently.

However, we tend to be so consumed with our earthly goals that we forget our here-after goals. We tend to care about looking good and enhancing our external appearances (make-up, Botox) and forget to purify our souls from inside, to pray our 5 prayers each day, to read Quraan on daily basis. Forgetting that the further we get from Allah the more miserable we will become. 

There is one thing that Omar Binu Alkhatab said that is echoing in my head right now  “account for yourself before your held accountable” So he used to make this his ritual every night were he count the good deeds he has done that day and the not so good ones.

I think I need that in my life right now. Where I hold myself accountable every night and put my Salat, my Quraan reading, my sleeping hours, my goals for that day on check. There is this idea in Psychology where a habit formation takes 21 days to get used to. I’ll give that a try?

Its past 1 am now and I have work early morning tomorrow, how will I manage to wake up ? I dont know.

I will tell this to myself tomorrow morning as I struggle to open my eyes “Lets piss off Iblis and the  haters"  then i'll roll my eyes up to heaven and stand up asking myself "what benefit did writing that piece add to me??" lol

But , I won’t call myself ‘lazy, shallow or not very ambitious’ I will just work on my Pep talk.  

Good Night Folks :) 

Asia 

A Dialogue Between Two Xalimoos...

Xalimo 1: heyyyy Xalimo 2,, OMG your eyebrows are on fleeek. You look GORGEOUS!

Xalimo2: Xalimo 1 STOP. You know am gaining weight those days. My skirts are getting tighter and tighter like everrrryday!

Xalimo 1: someone got up on the wrong side of the bed today. Whatsup girlfriend? Did HE not text you back last night? *giggles*

Xalimo2:: He didn’t. L He texted this morning saying he was busy all night and didn’t see my text.

Xalimo 1: Girl he is a F****ng liar. Nowadays people be taking their phones with 'em to the washroom, What do you mean he didn’t SEE your text. I told you he is playing you. Those Faraxs with sugary words making xalimoos fall into their jars like a moth drawn to a flame. Drop him like a hot potato before he dumps you. I tell you lady.

Xalimo2: But I love him, aad ban u jeclahay nooh. I mean how can you explain all those compliments he gave me, all those rosy poetic words that captured my heart from the first day. Are you sure you read all the messages I screenshot and send you? *she says with a gasp*

Xalimo 1: It doesn’t matter. WAKE UP nayaa. What is wrong with you? He is OBVIOUSLY a player. Decent men can’t even verbalize their emotions yareey. Iska iloow.

Xalimo2: Maybe you’re right. But he ticked all my right boxes from day 1. Do you know how rare it is to find a decent Farax at our age?

 Xalimo 1: heeeey wa nagtaa.  You’re crazy I swear. What boxes exactly??? He aint loyal. He aint decent. He aint considerate. Girl He aint even a good liar ‘claiming he didn’t see your text’ what a lame excuse ?? what happened to keeping our standards high huh??  

 You, Naya, is educated. You is semi-wadad. *LAUGHS* You is fine. You is articulate. You is from a good family. What is happening to you abayoo?? 

Xalimo2: I don’t know. I just feel pressured by habaryaroyin and the rest of the girls getting married and shit.

Xalimo 1: Abayoo, just because everyone is doing it, settling down for less, doesn’t mean we should do it too. Your right Farax is around the corner Inshallah. Dont rush into being a Garoob (Divorcee)

Like that Saying goes  “The devil takes a hand in what is done in haste”. We will wait our Calaf, and in the mean time, we will keep our heads, heels and standards high.  On another note, what  exactly have you been doing with, you know?

Xalimo2: I don't know what your talking about *giggles*. Pass me the donut PLEASE. *roll eyes*

Xalimo 1: Hahahah I won’t let you. Yalla, we are late from class. 

That Night, Small talk with the Beardy Man...

.

She rubbed her hands with her teary eyes. She looked away from the computer monitor she has been staring at for the past three hours. She stood up to the window bar. The stars were scattered around the dark sky surrounding the half white shiny moon. The city looked sleeping and quite from her fifth floor small apartment.

The clock was ticking past midnight. Tomorrow was Monday.  She hated Mondays because they were the epiphany of her resentments towards the system ‘who invented this Monday to Friday work thing’ she always cursed that man who structured human life and doomed their creativity forever or ‘till after retirement’ as if there were enough brain cells left to fire at that age. who are they kidding!'

Creativity needed efforts, breathed consistency and most importantly took time and courage. She didn’t have time nor energy for it.

She recently craved for something; or someone and she didn’t know what medicine to take.

Suddenly, she walked to her coat stand, grabbed her blue jacket and Hijab, put on her boots and shut the front door behind her. Ops ‘I hope I didn’t wake anybody’ she thought

She walked to the park beside their condominium, which  was just about  five minutes away, aside from her morning jogs she never visited this park at this time or seen it’s light, or seen the homeless people sleeping on the benches all alone in this weather.

One of them was awake staring at her through his smoke circles  , she did not feel scared or frightened as usual, like when she passes through the train subways when coming late from work, fearing to be killed for a laptop or pushed over because of the cloth wrapped around her head. ‘Some people feared that cloth smh’

“It’s very cold Ma’am, what are you doing out here, this hour” he said with a high pitch voice, she almost feared he woke up the whole neighborhood “nothing sir, I couldn’t sleep so I was just having a walk around here” she said coming close to his bench, surprised with her newly found bravery at 1 am.

“You couldn’t sleep in your warm bed?” he threw a discontinuous laugh that sounded struggling on its way up “lets switch tonight, yeh?” he suggested, followed by a short giggle again and put the cigarette back to his beardy mouth.

She felt grateful to her warm bed.
“Do you mind telling me since when this bench is your home?”

“Since the police chased me from CityLab neighborhood” “I wasn’t always homeless, you know, I used to have a life like you and worry about other stuffs, now all I worry about is my next bite and where to put my head....I have a daughter about your age, who lives in another state, she is married with four kids, I never told her because I don’t want to add into her worries. She is a good girl”

Hasna suddenly said “have you had dinner tonight sir? “

 “No, I had 4 cigarettes so far, it’s enough to make my stomach warm till tomorrow” he giggled with his discontinues laugh . “Wait a minute sir” said Hasna her eyes lightening up. “I’m not going anywhere young girl“

She ran back to her apartment ignoring the growing cold in her feet. Sneaked into the door, tip toed around, opened the full fridge. There were plenty of leftovers from her mother’s feast yesterday. Her mother had a habit of inviting community mothers over to their place at Saturday evenings and cooking her best recipes. She never hid her agenda of looking a decent husband for her daughter of 28.  Who was gradually exhibiting the typical attitude of (Gumees) spinsters, not even projecting the audacity of helping her hoyoo in front of their guests,who were usually keen observants and loved to exercise their tongues often .

She packed the leftovers in what she could find of plastic containers in the kitchen. She thought it was 2 days worthy of food for the bench man. She tip toed again. And shut the door behind her.

That night she slept on her warm bed. Not hating on the system or on Mondays .Not thinking she was jailed living. Aware of all of her blessings, including her bed and hoyoo. ‘

She decided that tomorrow will be a new day, that Face book  or negative emotions will not eat 3 hours of her precious time. There is nothing wrong with being single and 28? Her Mom should stop making her feel bad or calling her gumees or saying “nayaa asaga wala qaba” whenever she complains of something. ‘calaf was calf’ what meant to you is meant to you and its not going anywhere.

Her medicine was in her head.

Who's Gonna Clean ?! 

I am not mean I am just trynna be keen to your origina-lity 

I see the whole world crumbling around me with bruta-lity

Wars, diseases, dirty politics and infidelity

Lies, broken hearts and rivers of tears filled with icy fatality

Sick minded people burning with filthy desires, fu**ing disgusting

What?? They want to legalize bestiality? And chill around free, like its freaking normality?

See, I am not mean I’m just keen to all that’s around me, this world has become craaa-zy 

Rivers of blood flowing everywhere and all we like is a selfie posted by the Karadshian fam-ily

Screams of dread..groans for a piece of bread. Shot..Dead...before the groan was even heard, before 

his tear touched the shore of his lip

The whole world is deaf by the latest justin song, or a viral stupid skit

See, no one wants to think deep or weep, everyone want to fit and sit, squeeze themselves into something they will never be

I feel sorry for the dead humanity, where are the religious leaders when they’re needed in the scene?

The whole world needs to be cleaned, but who’s clean to clean?

I wish I can see hope in the eyes of the 5 years old boy, But all I see is a generation enslaved by technology with no apology

I see neighbors who feed in each other’s misery

I see blind hate fluctuating in places where love used to call his residency 

I see division and hatred growing everyday more than the babies in the Philippines

Where is resiliency ? Chivalry ? Dignity ? were they intimated by the brutality ?

But I’m still faithful, a strong believer in my God above the seven heavens
And what he wills will always be


Peace;

Asia Aboosy

                                                                                                                                                                

I