Allah and sourya


i think i struck a note.

the happier i get the more nostalgic i get.

i see family and syrian friends.

i smell culture in the air.

syria.

happiness


this life is about doing what you want to make you happy.

on a plane to new york city


Oh how God is good,

Great, and so clever,

That He would take me on a trip,

From here to november.

On a plane to new york city,

a place I remember,

Full of life, colors and fun,

Soon we’ll be together.

DUES


Who is this looking at me so ludicrous,

My mind is a jungle and my eyes uterus,

Birth a new vision yall can see truth exist,

Earn a few wishes I can be humorous,

Funny kind of humor but I be serious,

At times I see through hooligans,

Let me tell you dudes what I do to present this,

I write my own but I got dues to the bestest.

how long will it take


There is no need for resistance,
My darling from a far,
We’ve been all along this quiet front for longer than an instance.

My eyes are enthralled,
By all your existence,
The softness of your skin,
the tenderness you’re emitting.

that is all


The past is the past. That is all.

deep in the cage


Image

my heart thumped, I felt weak,
and fell to my knees, awe struck,
that I could preach autonomy,
how fragile I am, without God.

I fear to speak, to say my feelings,
for what they’ll do to spite me,
I cannot help what I am, a frail man,
seeking refuge, in my Lord.

on days like this, I understand,
what brings us men, nearer to Him,
that love between a boy and his mother,
that compassion towards another.

what is that barrier, keeping men,
from returning to their lawful creator,
but a case of anger, a cold arrogance,
a sickness without medicine.

The Infidel


There you go, once again, rushing off to make a blunder,

Only if you knew, anything at all.

No, you’d rather steer close to religion,

That’ll do you well, you mindless Neanderthal.

And yet it is I who feels this fluster,

Though it is they who haven’t a wonder,

Of truth and this and that and this,

A Holy Book remains amiss,

Not I, the wicked sinner,

I’ve got my own judge to contemplate,

He’d call me a winner.

So do not be so kind now,

I see the trick of your trade,

Keep your God-forsaken charity,

I won’t be caught in your charade,

Just yesterday you spent away

the commerce you had earned,

On all the vanities and vices

you swore would have me burned!

Hypocrisy


I debated posting this poem for a very long time. The reason is because I felt it was very harsh. I felt it would give off the wrong message and that it would confuse people about what I believe. But after consulting a few of my friends who encouraged me to post it, I went ahead and did. This poem is dedicated to Omar Khayyam, a great Persian polymath, philosopher, and poet. Below is a painting of him sipping wine, something he wrote about and truly enjoyed doing.

Who appointed you as holy arbiter,
You foolish men who lie on oath,
Preaching of God and all His glory,
I pray He make you choke!

All your words and false messages,
They only but show your truest color,
Only God is great, Only God is perfect,
There is no room for any other.

Go to church and bow on your knees,
And pray that a better you is born,
By day you will have cured a disease,
By night you will have turned to porn.

I’ll drink my wine and alcohol,
I’ll dance and sing and laugh and crawl,
Drunk off my ass, but always sincere,
For I, like Adam, took the fall.

Hell


by Luca Signorelli

Hell is where we go, when we say no,

No to the question of: Is He above?

A friend gone foe, for feeling love,

Love is the enemy; love is woe.

 

This is negative energy; one Hell of a mind,

The fire that burns; one Hell of a time,

Hell is no single place you can find,

But a state of unseeing; being blind.

 

Surprise, surprise, there in the mirror,

You ought see the angel standing behind,

Wishing to get in, but your soul is too stubborn,

Look in the mirror, see your demise.

 

One Hell of an ego, one Hell of a mind,

The roasting furnace is a bunch of lies,

For the burning and hurting, these are just signs,

Of the life of which we are undeserving.