The Soul of Palestine

Written By:  Talib-Haider “HaQQ” Joseph

I wake up before the sunrise hits the eyes of the morning

Dries tears on a new day after a night of mourning

We start with Azaan, it's our imaan to Allah we're calling

At the time of sunrise, beneath the gloomed sky with the rain falling

My hearts stalling and tears falling with the sense of fear

I'm tensed in here, as I pray I feel the end is near

Ye Allah! You made things clear when you sent me here

Once I defended with tears, now I defend with rocks as if they were spears

How many Muslims must die and be covered in rags

My love for Islam is seen from my white and black checkered flag

Drenched with tears and blood of my family - my brothers and dad

They lost their lives and left their wives, for Allah they gave all they had

I feel the pain when I look through the eyes of my own mother

She cries to me telling me I'm the last of the brothers

From her eyes I can see she don't want to lose another

When Allah made heaven, it was made for a woman like my mother

Kuffi wrapped around on my arm and rocks in my palm

With the thought of Islam, I recite some psalms

My ammo might be weak, but my heart is strong

You may kill me tonight, but my faith forever lives on

Bullets release like if they were a slave to the gun

Our brothers got hit; they spared not a single one

I felt my leg burn and felt my body feel numb

Collapsed on the ground with my eyes staring at the sun

I felt my mother has known what has come to pass

Oh Allah, take care of my mother is all that I ask

With the last bit of strength I must claim my love for Allah

Felt the burn of more bullets, as I died screaming 'La Ilaaha Illallah'

[back]

Thoughts of a Muslim

Written By:  Talib-Haider “HaQQ” Joseph

Satan whispers thoughts and feelings of ecstasy

He tempts me and tries to get the best of me

I seek for Allah, for only he can set me free

He took me from three and put the one in me

He gave me knowledge with the strength of an army

Propaganda is only a catalyst that arms me

Revolutionary like Indians with Visions of Gandhi

I’m a soul who takes only what Allah hands me

Whether you speak to Allah or speak Patois

Seek to increase your deen through Taqwa

Instead of seeking for the latest Fatwa

Your first law is to take Taqwa and obey Allah

In this savage society don't forget your piety

The greatest prosperity is through forms of charity

Even in tragedy keep your soul drowned in purity

When you speak keep Allah in the highest Authority

I cry for the Muslims who died in the land of Falujah

Through our prayers for you we make our Duas

Oh you blessed martyrs don’t forget of the Surahs

So you don’t become khafirs like the people of Musa

In this nation of haram; our soul is feeling suicidal

The forefathers of our generation were lost in idols

We try to seek for truth when our mind is in idle

That’s why Allah gave us the Qu’ran for recital

Just as China is guilty for their way of Imperialism

We’re guilty for falling into the culture of materialism

We may be free, but our soul suffers the life of prison

How blind is our vision when we refuse to listen…

The world is still in fear from the quoted Prophecies

If only we could see what the Prophet see

We won’t fall to the whispers of Iblis – the ugly disease

We ask forgiveness from Allah before we’re deceased

[back]

The Tears of Life

Written By:  Talib-Haider “HaQQ” Joseph

Verse 1:

These are my tears of my life; I just stare at the light

I still fear of the night and I shed tears when I write

These are the years of my life, when I pray for the light

My God I'm scared of your might; I'm scared of my life

Spare me a knight, steer me away from the fear of the night

From the glares of my sight, God I hold onto you tight

The wrongs of my life, it is you who is dear to my life

Forgive the sins of my life before I come to face my death

Let me trace my steps and in you I place my breath

Am I ready to face these tests? And embraced the blessed

I pace myself and take myself to you God I seek

To you God I speak, I feel my heart is week

My thoughts are deep; my faith taught my heart to weep

My eyes have a water leak when my heart starts to speak

So my soul sparks to seek, when life is dark and deep

God guard the heart in me, it is you whom I want to see

Verse 2:

Oh God! I’m needing this pain, I'm bleeding in vain

So I’m reading to attain, and it's the feeling I gain

From speaking your name, for it's the healing of pain

All I'm seeing is rain, Allah, lead me to Hussein

It's hard to explain the blood of the slain

With the thought of Hussein I find it hard to contain

The tears falling like rain, Allah I'm calling your name

I'm balling in shame; it is only my heart I can blame

With my heart I proclaim there is no other God but you

So I give my heart to you because you brought the truth

And you taught the youth, and you brought me through

I left my soul be caught in you, before I'm lost in two

Let my heart be true when the time of death is due

So I can stand next to you and have heaven at my view

I ask of you fulfill my duas when I pray

Astagferullah, Rabbi Wa Atoobu Illayh

[back]

Hazrat Abbas (Alayhis-Salaam)

Written By:  Talib-Haider “HaQQ” Joseph

Assalamumalaikum "The Dauntless Lion", Hazrat Abbas

Alas another warrior to fight for the right cause

Oh Abbas, Oh Abbas, To Allah we make our duas

In our time, may we die like you for Allah's cause

Oh son of Ali, the son of the Lion of the Wilderness

Can one compare to the love for Imam Hussain you possessed

You stood for the oppressed and took their requests

We express our love for you from the beat of our chests

Oh he who defeated the strong in the battle of Siffin

At the time of death of Imam Ali, he knew his mission

For whatever the Imams taught, Abbas would listen

For what he did in Kerbala was with his brother's permission

He promised water for the family sufferring from thirst

He got martyred near Euphrates, to the enemies we curse

To Imam Hussain he asked for a promise, for he failed in his search

Not to take his dead body to Sakina for she still feels her thirst

Oh Abbas you fought for Islam you fought for the Imams

Oh Abbas Let me hold the water bag, here take my arms

Take my hand, take my palm, take my limbs, Oh Abbas take my arms

They cried for you at birth and now we cry for your death for Islam

[back]

Imam Hussain (Alayhis-Salaam)

Written By:  Talib-Haider “HaQQ” Joseph

Oh son of Ali, son of Amiral Momimeen

Brother to Hassan and son to Hazrat Fatimah, Islam's blessed queen

0 Ali you were to Muhammad what Haroon was to Musa

How can they doubt you Hussain? Oh Shabeer, Oh Aba Abdullah

Prophet Muhammad wept when he held you close to his breasts

A nation arises flushed with tears and beating their chests

How can one know sacrifice and not know Hussain

It's like trees wanting to grow but not wanting rain

Oh martyrs, we cry expressing our grief and our sorrow

But we sleep hoping to see the sunrise of tomorrow

Even at the age of 8 they gave away this dunya and fought for the Imam

Even after 12 has cometh we deviated from the path of Islam

We cry and weep for you Hussain for the pain and suffering you faced

And cry to you Allah for forgiveness of our sins, so Hellfire won't be our place

Just as water puts out the fire for all that it burns

Let the tears from our hearts leave us with a lesson to be learned

Just as ice melts away from the heat of the sun

Let our hearts melt with Love of our Prophet’s grandson

Just because we believe don't think heaven comes for free

Ye Allah I cry to you my Lord and take these sins away from me

[back]

No candle by your grave ...
(Dedicated to Imam Muhammad Al-Baqir a.s.)

By Sahar Hussein




Treading miles afar from home,
spanning the delicate hours of life,
aspiring to behold the awaited glory
As I walk past a narrow alley,
the sun of Medina brims over,
casting upon an exhausted traveller,
its motherly warmth.
A wry smile draws on my wrinkled face,
the weary face, bearing signs of pain.
Another step closer to the pathway,
and a whisper confining a secret ...
" Oh Jabir, you will have a long life,
although your eyes shall lose their sight,
yet, you would have the honor of meeting my fifth descendant. "
With this the voice grew less dominant,
exposing the suppression of tears.
" Jabir, when you meet him, give my salaams to him".
Silence dawns.

Jabir Ibn Abdullah Al-Ansari,
positioned cosily by the road-side,
with hair strands so white and pure,
and eyes silently profound.
Jabir waited devoutly,
longing to hear the foot-steps of a man most dear to him.
The fruits of his patience grew aloft,
the day came when a young man,
walked along the path,
claded modestly with the sweet perfume of musk.
Jabir stood up, and greeted the young prince,
and asked his good name.
" Muhammad " he replied softly.
Jabir then asked, "Whose son?"
" Ali ibn Al-Hussain " he replied.
Jabir had now recognised the man.
Like a father embracing his lost child,
Jabir held Al-Muhammad in his arms.
With tears blurring his long lost vision,
he confined his secret to the young man,
" Your Grandfather, Rasul'Allah has sent you his salaams "
The sun shined in admiration,
as the scene gently evanished from sight.

Baqir - the one who splits open knowledge,
the title that the young man bore.
I advanced in my quest for quenching my consuming thirst,
thirst, which burned the fuel of love in my heart.
Imam Muhammad Al-Baqir,
pleasantly spreading the grains of knowledge,
to the famished birds of Arabia.
I walk past his warm house,
and kissed his door, as I left the vicinity.
This scene mixes with the former,
as I walk well in advance to it.

A new path,
presenting Hisham, the umayyad caliph of his time.
As he digs into his throne,
hatred flames ferociously in his eye,
stinging every muscle of my body.
Poison - a legacy of the umayyads,
a soundless weapon they all rested their hands on.
Upon Hisham's orders,
Imam Baqir's saddle were laminated deeply with the poison.
When the Imam mounted on his horse,
the strength of the poison, so severely able,
to bring an end to the fifth shining star's life.
Like the serpent's venom,
it spread throughout the Imam's body.
The day came, when Imam no longer replied to his son's cries.
The day, when Imam Baqir departed this world,
and joined his uncle Imam Hasan Al-Mujtaba,
and father, Imam Zainul Abideen in the forsaken soil of Baqi.
The scene dissolves as I cast my eyes at the green dome,
with the whisper echoing in my mind.
"Jabir, give my salaams to my Baqir .... "


[5th Zil Hijja 1427]

For more reading on Imam Baqir's life:
Imam Baqir a.s.

[back]

 

Ali and Fatima (peace be upon them both)
By Sahar Hussein
The Prophet (s) said, "Verily, God married Ali to Fatima."



Madinah ...
is in light and glow,
from Mustafa,
a spring of joy does flow.
Today is his Zahra's matrimony,
the angels have all descended,
to congratulate Ali.

Felicitations Ya Abal Zahra on this adored day,
Your Zahra has adorned the cloak of marriage today!

The groom is from Allah's house;
Zahra - the illuminous,
is his chosen spouse.
The pair is indeed a well matched one;
May happiness surroud you, ...
for in wedding attire is Abu Talib's son.

Felicitations Ya Abal Zahra on this adored day,
Your Zahra has adorned the cloak of marriage today!

The prophet of Allah,
places Zahra's hand in Ali's,
distress from the world,
by this occassion ceases.
Brightened has every lover's heart,
May Allah bless the new couple,
and give them a glorified start!

Felicitations Ya Abal Zahra on this adored day,
Your Zahra has adorned the cloak of marriage today!

The leader of all the men;
pride of Bint Asad,
has married the chief of the women,
reflection of heaven.
Sprinkle rose water;
sing aloud,
for Zahra has made Khadijah proud!

Felicitations Ya Abal Zahra on this adored day,
Your Zahra has adorned the cloak of marriage today!

Tears of joy,
are seen in Muhammad's eyes.
Looking above to the heaven and skies,
Silently whispering;
with God he spoke,
His heart felt light;
for his Kawthar now glowed.

Felicitations Ya Abal Zahra on this adored day,
Your Zahra has adorned the cloak of marriage today!

We ask for a trifle present,
from you Oh Prophet,
Bless the couple,
who wed with their love today.
Bestow onto them your blessings,
and grant them success,
By the love of your progeny,
make them prosperous!

Felicitations Ya Abal Zahra on this adored day,
Your Zahra has adorned the cloak of marriage today!

[back]

---

Imam Ali ibn Musa Al-Redha (AS)

By Sahar Hussein




The silent prayer that I oft whispered,
echoed aloud in my ear;
as I helplessly rose to leave.
A little boy, laid crippled by the door,
with his mother drowning in grief.
The child; disabled for life,
smiled as I walked past him.
My heart was now burning in sorrow,
and my tears too weak to extinguish the fire.
In my mind I spoke to you,
wishing you would reply to me.
My Beloved;
I traveled so far; away from home,
remote from the gracious sincerity of my loved ones.
I am now a stranger lacking support,
an exhausted wayfarer afar from my homeland.
Advancing towards your golden zareeh,
grasping the pillars, and kissing each one.
Is this how Al-Redha welcomes his lover,
who has come all the way to meet his master?
I, am a peasant; a beggar at your door,
and a glance at you is all I ask for.
For your mother's sake, for your beloved Jawad,
permit me to see you just once.
A hand on my shoulder,
who's warmth enriched my vacated spirit,
guiding me towards the zareeh.
'Allah is great' - a woman chanted,
with tears obscuring her vision.
Her little child - now walking & playing ...
I saw Al-Redha through a lover's vision,
through the reflection of his goodness.
This fulfilled the age long prayer that I had secretly asked for.
As I leave the holy vicinity of Mashad,
I have with me the purest souvenir;
the love of my master thriving forever in my heart.

[back]

Oh Abu Saleh Al Mahdi

By Sahar Hussein



Forlorn of all hope,
as I write to you,
with the ink of my tears.
The notes of sympathy,
how may I express?
the grief, the pain, the misery;
that has embraced my chest.
With what lyrics can I convey,
the deepest agony that your lover's feel,
as they watch the golden dome,
of your beloved, tearing down?
Oh Abu Saleh Al Mahdi,
today, how may the sun shine,
the moon & the star's glow,
when, upon you has befalled immense sorrow?
My dearest Imam;
every broken fragment of the dome,
symbolizes a broken heart.
A heart, that repeatedly prays,
for your reappearance.
Our silent cries are insufficient,
to even console you, Oh Mahdi;
for today your father's holy shrine,
calls out for you.
By my parents,
My Master, Oh Mahdi,
the oppressive tyrants need a reply;
give them the strike of your Zulfiqar!
Oh Abu Saleh Al Mahdi,
May Allah hasten your reappearance.

Muharram 1427

[back]

---

Shaam e Ghariba'an
(Evening of loneliness)

By Sahar Hussein




Tears springing from the Euphrates of my eye,
as I sketch the scene of helplessness,
on the canvas of my heart.
The fire of Namrood leaping hungrily,
lashing upon the afflicted hearts,
the ripening of the intrinsic agony.
Listen ... hear the cracking of the fire,
as it plunges forth,
engulfing the memories laden within the tents.
See with the vision of your heart,
Ali Asghar's green cradle burning ...
This is the evening of distress; the hour of lamenting,
as the little children burry their blistered feet,
amid the thorny bushes of Naynawa
each one crying his own eulogy,
wishing that the scene would fade away,
and light shine upon their bruised faces.
The field of Kerbala is Sakina's compatriot,
as she calls onto her darling father.
" Father " she cries with blood effusing from her ears,
" will this sun ever set? "
My heart pounds with grief,
as I see her tiny arms stretched out,
longing to reach her father's warm lap.
And Hussain's headless body,
in return, swinging Sakina to sleep ...

[back]

---

The Grand sacrifice

By Sahar Hussein




Inspiration: وَفَدَيْنَاهُ بِذِبْحٍ عَظِيمٍ

( Surah Saffat verse 107 )

Dream;
a gentle warmth,
flourishing the hidden aspiration.
For the few elected servants,
it cultivates in them,
the aquired art,
of sensing their God's will.
While the world lays intoxicated,
with boosted doses of sleep,
they call unto Him.
And God replies to them,
through a vision.
The single image of Ibrahim,
slaughtering his son, Ismail;
was the indication of a painful tale.
The tale; whose ending lied,
amid the sand dunes of Karbala.
There laid Ibrahim's true inspiration,
on the bed of arrows,
where he made his last prostration.
Hussain's sacrifice was accepted by God,
as dhibhin azim.

Muharram 1427

[back]

 

---

Eternal Victory

By Sahar Hussein




The final farewell came,
which wounded Hussain's heart further.
For this time,
There were no Abass,
to help him mount the horse.
And no Akbar's shoulder to lean on,
while riding on Zuljanah.
What an hour it was!
Son of Zahra, left all alone.
The enemies inflicted bruises on Hussain,
by tongue & spears.
Their laughter echoed in the desert,
as they called Hussain 'brotherless'.
What an hour it was!
Yet amid all grief,
his pain seemed to heal,
the moment he saw his mother.
On the field alongside Hussain,
stood Zahra in tears.
Tears, which cheered for Hussain,
as he achieved eternal victory.

Muharram 1427

[back]

---

And Zahra cried; come my Hussain!

By Sahar Hussein



The red stained rosary beads,
at the time of noon,
chant in your love.
The severe pain,
embraces my chest,
as its mournful rhythm,
cuts through my heart,
stinging my inner soul.
What grief it wears,
the agony of which travels so far?
The melancholy wind;
the sorrowful hours of this midday,
O' Lord unveil the hidden saga!
The initiation of a momentary seclusion,
isolating me from nature's eye.
Drifted; like a memory,
back to the cradle of time.
Fire;
roaring in anger,
burning the tents.
Little children;
escaping the blaze,
under the shelter of Zainab's veil.
The pitiless onlookers watched;
as the orphan's were whipped,
and leveled to the ground.
Their tiny ear lobes,
flooded with blood,
as looters seized their rings.
I blocked my vision,
with my hands,
for my emotions could see no more.
Blind to the happenings,
when I heard the words of God,
being uttered in the best tone.
I looked around,
where angels had spread their wings,
collecting Hussain's holy blood.
Below the pointed spear,
a distressed mother,
cried with relief;
" Come my Hussain, return to my lap;
with my bruised lips, I shall kiss your every wound! "
A final parting with Kerbala,
as the scene faded away.
Back in my hand,
the red stained rosary bead,
weeping for the tragedy,
of which God, is its saviour.
Salutations to you,
who prostrated on a bed of arrows.

Muharram 1427

[back]

---

Imam Hassan Al-Mujtaba (as)

By Sahar Hussein




Of your which wound shall I narrate;
Oh Hassan ibn Ali?
Allow me to confess:
I fear;
I fear my eulogy will fall short of you!

Shall I speak of the eye,
that witnessed Ali's helplessness,
or of the heart,
that ached with pain;
recollecting his mother's broken ribs?

The morning breeze,
absorbed your tears;
whilst you looked at the gloomy picture,
that faded gently.
The soil of your mother's grave,
heaven's scent of musk,
consoles you Oh Hassan ibn Ali.

The stream of memory,
flowing past you,
as you prepare for more sufferings.
Oh Zahra's darling Hassan;
you are the reflection of purity.
Under the shelter of the yemeni cloak,
your nobility & patience glowed.
I wish to kiss the scars of prostration,
that are on your limbs!

How time passes by,
and we near the hour of parting.
My beloved Imam,
what poison have they fed you,
that your state worsens so immensely?
May my parent's be your ransom,
do have a look at your sister Zainab!
How her face grows paler,
as she sees the pieces of your liver,
lying on the basin.

Oh Hassan ibn Ali,
The angels greet you;
as your mother welcomes you.
Your father,
stands by the gate of Paradise,
waiting to reunite with his poisoned son.
My Imam; I hear some mournful songs,
the world echoes with; " Come to me my lonely Hassan! "

As I end my poem,
I see a man by the lake of Kawthar.
His tears summon you,
tell me my Imam,
what is he whispering?
May I be sacrificed for you;
is he not Muhammad; your grandfather?

[back]

---