The Mirror and the Dust

A wayward speck of dust settled on my mirror

A trifle, so it seemed, I left it untouched

Then some flecks piled on this particle

Engrossed in otherness, I left them to reside

But when I next regarded the reflection

I found it laden, littered, sullied and soiled

And whilst I strained to scrub it all aside

A glut of sludge plastered my looking glass

My mirror now became a breeding ground

For parasites casting a turbid mound

Then I wept a deluge of regret

It washed away the grunge and stinking mess

And light shone through the glass, which made me smile

But then a speck settled, after a while…

MACBETH ZUBAYR

Cash is king.

Witches artwork copyright of SChalabi

This short story is loosely based on the plot and characters of William Shakespeare’s, Macbeth.

Parental advisory- this story explores adult themes and contains horror.

    “Masha Allah Bro!”

    After bursting into Sarfraz’s room, Zubayr and Abbas marvelled at the sight before them. Sarfraz sat piously, white skullcap wrapped around his head, a guidebook to Muslim prayers in his hand.

    “I guess you won’t be coming out…” Zubayr began.

    Sarfraz looked up from his book. He was reading prayers the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, said to ward off evil spirits and Satan himself. He now glanced at his friends’ immaculately presented, tight, designer jeans, polo tops and gelled hair: “Depends what you mean by out.”

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The Sun Rises

‘The night comes in / Like some cool river’ Richard Thompson

The Sun rises

In my grieving heart

And now the Light

Soothes all the pain

Feel the daylight

Embracing the grief

Of the world, which turn us insane

The Sun rises

And now my heart breathes

And the Love

Is all that I see

Deeper than blood

Which runs through the veins

And the fears fade into the Light

The Sun rises

Sheening all my dreams

With a gold

That glows eternally

Even if foes

From hidden angles

Besiege my heart

The Light shelters me

Peace eternal

And flowing blessings

On the one

The Sun of the hearts

And upon his

Blessed companions

And his kin

The bearers of the Light

Natural Mystic

There’s a natural mystic blowing through the air. Bob Marley

There’s a natural mystic glow in the unseen

And to feel it quaff the goblet of tawheed

You can feel it in Malcolm

In his mesmerising smile

In the trials that he suffered

In his righteousness and style

I don’t tell no lie

There’s a natural mystic deep reality

And to taste it, love the Only Deity

Feel the warmth of Ali’s fire

Grasp the rain of his words

In the ring, the unsurpassable

In the hearts, he turns alive

I don’t tell no lie

There’s a natural mystic shimmering finesse

If you purge the self, you’ll feel its dear caress

Like the gracious Mother Khadijah

The pearl of New York

In the beauty of her service

In the deepness of her eyes

Can’t keep them down

There’s natural mystic, blowing through the air

Notes:

Personalities referred to in the poem:

Malcolm X

Muhammad Ali

Mother Khadijah

Bob Marley

May Allah illuminate their secrets and teach us beneficial lessons through their lives, ameen

I found out about Mother Khadijah from the link below:https://sapelosquare.com/…/profile-mother-khadijah-faisal/

A Tribute To Rabi Al Awwal: The Story of the Trench

With a strike on the rock!

And the lights appeared!

And a smite on the block!

There’s no grief or fear!

In the fifth of the year

Deep in the Shawwal

Stirring hearts dug a trench

By the great Dhubab

Enemies far and near

Were conspiring high

To destroy the new faith

To observe it die

Outnumbered, facing death

Odds did not look good

But the hope did not die

And the Prophet stood

With a strike on the rock!

And the lights appeared!

And a smite on the block!

There’s no grief or fear!

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Joe And His Technicoloured Servers

Dear Father,

I don’t have much time, my sentencing is in a few days, so I will cut to the chase. I am sorry for not speaking to you or Benjamin throughout all of this. I have sent him a separate note… But now that I’ve had some time to think, I want to tell you about recent events from my point of view; from the way I have experienced things; in contrast to the secondary tales from social media (like The Net- I have much to say about them later).

As you know, your son, my older brother, has been spreading the news that I was attacked by a wolf and that I may never return. The wolf of insanity. He has told you all that he tried to help me, but I was dragged away by this fiend.

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