Archive for the ‘1’ Category

October 22, 2009


I am..

A prisoner to my own emotions

Often at war against a powerful foe

who invades the sanctity of my heart in many different shapes and forms

By day, I stand strong

by night, I grip the ground as I attempt to dodge enemy fire

that attacks the base of the heart through strategic desires!

Often, I burn my soul through consistent reminders to remain strong and aviod a life in the eternal fire


With nowhere to flee

I march forward seeking the inner battlefield in order to become free!

Against an enemy known to me as my own destiny

In essence, I struggle to liberate my soul as I pursue my final decree

Question: what will become of me?


If I continue to pursue a path to become a man in a society that produces boys

What will become of me

what will become of my children

and my family to be


Lost in clustered never-ending thoughts

I stand caged like a wild beast in a body that produces poetic heat

between a soul that harbours visions of past days and destructive desires

if the world leaders knew I milked the earth for its global energy

Imprisoned – I would be


Instead I fight to conceal the powerful voices that scream from within

But I – for my part – remain in a state of denial

As I struggle to remain sane in a world that breed’s insane

Will I survive in my pursuit to survive another day in a society that bleeds internal desires

for that answer, you will need to look into the book of Decrees

Truly, only Allah knows what will become of me 




Somethings, I just dont understand!
October 12, 2009

For one, why are firemen so beloved by our society? I mean, correct me if I’m wrong but aren’t those men running into a burning building? And to makes matters worse, I often see them run full speed into a flaming house, in order to save who – scruffy, the black cat with white spots that forgot to run out of the house when flames erupted from the kitchen. I mean, okay! I understand that sometimes firemen save lives and of course, if I saw my family inside a burning home, I too would take every measure to save their lives but I just can’t understand why a fireman puts his life on the line to save a turtle (and if you think I’m joking about the turtle thing, I’m serious..such an incident has happened). And to make matters worse than they already were; sometimes the fireman dies in the process of trying to save that helpless turtle. Again, I’m just saying…I think a human life is worth saving but a human life is not worth losing over an animal when 12 foot flames cover a house – logic tells me, and apparently this logic isn’t required to become a fireman – if a house is covered in flames, it is not wise to run into that house! And for all the firemen out there, we respect what you do but please remember, you are not a superman and probably, more likely than not, you have a family at home so try to recall that before you risk your life for a pet. Besides, I’m under the opinion that if we can develop the technology to send humans to the moon, and moreover, if we can create manless drones to bomb western Pakistan, I’m sure we can also develop the type of machinery needed to never witness another fireman lose his life in the midst of trying to preserve the property of someone else. And talking about firemens; why are they always the first to arrive at any emergency call? Maybe it has something to do with their big red fire truck and how everyone keeps their distance when they hear their sirens coming their way (you can never trust those guys who drive those trucks). As you can tell, I’m not a big fan of firemens!

And another thing I can’t seem to understand is why does society have a problem with  Muslims women choosing to wear the niqaab. Of course society claims that our sisters can wear whatever they please but their words and actions must speak the same language before I can accept their claims to be true. Afterall,  I’ve heard, and God forbid I ever see a niqaabi be disrespected in front of me, but such negative behaviours have been experienced and spoken about by many sisters. And if society has a problem with women covering themselves, then I too have a problem with women coming outside of their homes wearing nothing but a bra and tight jeans. And society shouldn’t develop a trait we call on the street as being ‘shaddy’. It shouldnt deal with one group of people one way and another group a different way when we’re all citizens of the same society. And yes, I’m getting to that point where I can’t stand to surrounded by naked people which has left me asking myself one question: what happened to modesty? Apparently, like dinosaurs, it no longer exists.

Goodbye, and Forever!
October 12, 2009

     Recently I took a trip overseas and despite the great time that I had in Dubai and Djibouti, and the not so great experience with Turkish Airlines, there is one feeling that lives with freshness in my heart till this very day. Until this moment, I’ve never spoken about this matter to any of my friends or family but I thought – since I really need to get it off my chest – I would share it on my blog. In early September, I was in Djibouti and my friends planned to visit the beach in order for us  to relax, although it was Ramadan and we couldn’t really enjoy ourselves fully because we were in a state of fasting. And before I had departed to the beach on that day, a thought popped into my head. Weeks and maybe months leading up to that day, I wanted to take a huge step towards starting a new beginning in life. I wanted – more then anything – to leave the past as is, and focus on the challenges of a bright future (inshAllah). So before I left for the beach, I grapped my 9 completed notebooks – that I’ve been writing poetry in for the last  6 and chain years – that I had titled ‘Poetic Justice’ (which by the way I’ve tried to keep hidden from people and that I wanted to share with my children to be inshAllah) and I placed those notebooks into my school bag which I intended to take with me to the beach. When I got to the beach, and only after I’d spent some time with my friends – joking and catching up on matters pertaining to their lives in general – I had an urge to leave my friends and take some time to myself. I needed to think about some matters. So in the midst of their laughing and playing, I escaped their sight. And I knew I had little time before they would notice my absence so I quickly fled for the shores of the Red Sea and I thought to myself as I approached the water, can this be the same sea that Allah caused to open up for Musa? Was I really walking towards the edge of a sea that destroyed a corrupt nation – Pharoah and his people! As I approached the water, the ayaats from the Quran discussing Musa and Pharoah started to appear. With each step I took, I felt a greater connection to Musa because I knew he went through a lot – dealing with the likes of Pharoah and afterwards, Bani Israel. And I knew with certainty that the Red Sea was rich in history and somewhere deep inside, I wanted to add to that history. Then a thought popped into my mind – why not release years of poetry into the Red Sea?

     At first I thought the idea was somewhat – excuse my french – stupid. Then I realized, after years of writing poetry and fighting hard to keep them out of the reach of the general public – the only way to assure myself that my privacy and poetry never land on the lap of another person – I had to release my Poetic Justice into the Red Sea. See the thing about me is, I’m a very private person and privacy constitutes a major part of my life. Relationships in general go through a roller coaster, and sometimes the great relationship ends badly but the relationship that one has with his soul never ends and I believe those matters – emotions and experiences – experienced by the soul need to be respected and kept private until the day comes when Allah allows you to trust someone to the degree that privacy can no longer be an issue.  

      So I opened my bag and I reached from my Poetic Justice. At first, I felt hesitant to execute the plan of throwing years of poetic work into a cold sea. But quickly I shook off such thoughts and I reminded myself that a sea such as the Red Sea is meant to preserve history and I wanted to contribute to that history my sharing with it my life experiences – documented through poetic work – so in one motion, I threw years of poetic work into the water. And there it floated, helplessly…in historic water, as my sight fixed its laser onto its every motion. I stood there alone, knowing that I had invested so much emotions and time into writing and in a matter of seconds, everything that I had done and worked for, gone. Then I remembered Allah. I remembered that while all my actions – both good and bad – can be forgotten by the ones I did good and bad towards, Allah never forgets. So I became shy of recalling some of the things that I done, and connecting it back to the fact that Allah has not forgotten those actions, even though it may have escaped my memory for a time. And I noticed when I become shy in the sight of Allah, I usually sit down – in order to lower myself in the sight of Allah. So I sat down, on a rough edged rock and I started thinking. And those thoughts led to more thoughts. Thoughts after thoughts. And in the midst of all those thoughts, my Poetic Justice was taken by the sea that saved Musa and Bani Israel, and it was no longer in sight. I starred off into the sea, missing my Poetic Justice. I started recalling the poetic verses I created through a rollercoaster of emotions, and never knowing whether I will have the opportunity to experience such emotions again – which would allow my poetic voice to speak. See, the thing about poetry is, it’s not the verses within themselves that make great poetry but rather the experiences that create the foundation for great poetic work. That is why poets existed in every generation because human experiences – sadness, happiness, love, hate, fear, etc – can be experienced regardless of the historical time. And I realized what I was truly missing wasn’t the poetic verses that I had written but rather the experiences that led me to document them into my Poetic Justice. And every time I read my Poetic Justice, the experience that I focused on (ie, love) became fresh but then I realized, regardless of whether those words were physically present or not, those experiences will always be a part of me.  At that moment I learned something very important…but that is a blog for another time.

Blogging from Dubai! (Part 1)
August 11, 2009

The action started as our Turkish Airlines Flight 0018 made touched down onto the runways of Dubai’s International Airport. It was about 3 am, Saturday morning and I, along with about 120 other passengers were just thankful that our destructive Turkish Airlines experience had finally come to an end. And oh by the way, please, don’t ever harm yourself by deciding to take a Turkish Flight, ever!

It started in Toronto as I jumped onto a ten and a half hour flight from Toronto to Istanbul and did I mention that experience was little short of hell in the skies? Ironically, the Turkish Airlines boasts itself over good quality but lets be honest, I rated my experience – at best – a D+ grade for service. If that wasn’t bad enough, their general announcements were made in a language that 98% of the people on board did not speak – and if you think the announcements were made in Turkish, think again! They were made in German, yes I said, German! And all of that put together – their horrible service and weird choice of announcing important – potentially – life saving announcements in German brought little comfort to such a long flight. Then we got to Istanbul and what an experience. I was greeted well by numerous Muslims as I tried to make up for a prayer or two that I had missed as I tried to remain alive – from lack of food – while on the Turkish flight.

My experience in Istanbul was flying high on some wonder clouds until – wait for it, wait for it – there was an unexpected delay on my flight out of Turkey and into Dubai. And had they communicated the reason for our delay maybe tempers would remain low but to ask the Turks to communicate is like asking a Jewish man to donate money to some good hearted Minorities cause – Ain’t gonna happen y’all! So I waited along with all the other passengers until finally, after an hour delay and no communication they – the airline employees – decided to communicate the cause right? Wrong. In fact, they just pretended as if they were right on schedule and that drove AbdulMajeed, AbdulKareem and AbdulRahman – all men of different ethic backgrounds that I had met while I was hanging with them thobe brothers in Istanbul – crazy! So, as the patient Muslims we are, we waited and waited until they were ready and boarded us on to the flight. And here is the best part, once I got onto the flight, you know that feeling of nerves – will I be seated next to a person who smells or maybe a person who – god forbid – doesn’t speak English? Well those nerves got put to bed once I realized I was seated next to a young Iranian man who lived in Toronto his whole life but moved to Dubai about a year ago after being offered a job in a marketing company. And I thought I was excited to see him but before I could introduce myself to him, he said ‘OHHH man! Aren’t I glad to see you. I thought maybe I would be seating beside some next person’! Despite his excitement to see me, I was even more relieved to not be seated near a Turk for another 4 hours (I joke, I joke! Really, I don’t have anything against Turks).

And after getting to know the man for exactly 50 minutes, we both called it a night and turned opposite ways and dosed off into a sleep for the remainder of the flight. And once we had landed in Dubai and the aircraft came to a complete stop, you wouldnt believe what happened next! Walahi, I swear by Allah, a Somali young man on the flight started – or should I say, engaged – in a fight with a Arab man. They both swung punches, one missing, the other landing. The people started to make noise and I was looking for Navid – my Iranian friend – to see if he was willing to place a bet with me but by the time my gazed located him, he was too far for any discreet bets to take place. And to end this entry of my first blog about Dubai, I will end it with the words the young Somali uttered to the Arab once the people had broken up the flight. He said, “I’ll ‘F’ you up man, in your own Country, you ‘F’ing’ Arab”! (Please

I’m Back…!
June 18, 2009

It’s been a while since I last posted and truth be told, I missed my blog. But you know how life becomes as the days come and go, not allowing the necessary time to accomplish all the tasks of that day. To my readers, thank you for your support and comments. And to those readers who encourage me to keep writing through private emails, may Allah be pleased with you.

Some of you might be wondering, where have you been Ameen? What has kept me so busy? Any new updates to report from you life? And all of these questions are legitimate and deserve to be answered. But before I can answer such questions, I must flip those exact questions back onto you and seek your answers before forwarding you mine – it is only good manners that causes me to do such a thing (ok fine! Maybe not exactly good manners, more like, maybe I’m just trying to escape those questions? Maybe.)

Now that I’m back  on my blog for the time being I must announce that soon, perhaps sooner rather than later, I will be completing this edition of Poetic Justice. And also I must confess my intentions to start another – more intense – more private blog. At the moment I am seeking potential titles for this blog and perhaps some readers will stumble onto the next blog as they found this Poetic Justice. As for the rest of the readers, the Internet captures the four corners of the globe and perhaps we will meet on a different site ( the Anwar Awlaki site? His blog – check it out y’all 🙂 )

But for now I shall depart from you, leaving to your sight a poem I recently wrote


(And for some reason I picture the child below reading to y’all this poem lol)




In memory of flower
Whose remembrance I recall like the world’s most powerful towers
Who built the foundation of my heart’s structure
only to loose flower in the midst of horrible weather

Emotionally triggered,
I figured,
similar to a game winning jumper,
at the buzzer,
If only I could lean in closer,
stroke for flower,
Poetic words that resemble a Kobe floater;
And if I could somehow execute such a jumper
I would enjoy the return of flower!

How high is the degree of shame
For the one who over values his fame
which caused him to call all the wrong plays
thus landing him as a victim to the pressures of the game
when all that was intended was to allow flower to live its name

Now on the run from emotional trife life
As the one who lobbies the soul to grant more time
and convince the mind not to overstep that dangerous line
of thoughts whom the poets consider as severe as crimes

O’ it’s too late!
The mind has been penetrated, don’t wait!
Pull the poetic trigger, don’t hate!
Release me to be free and ask questions on a later date
for Shaitan is determined to influence my eternal fate!

April 22, 2009

What is poetry? For ages it has been defined differently however in essence, it is the longing of the soul for freedom – through words! At times, the break through to freedom comes at the voice of one individual and other times, it is earned through the work of two! History recalls the events of poets who gathered near the sea banks of a far away land and while in their gatherings, such poets exchanged memories of extreme joy and heart breaks. And once there was a poet amongst them who created a poem, placed the foundation of his words into a bottle, placed the bottle into the sea, released the bottle – asking the sea to deliver his words to the individual whom his Lord had decreed for him. The sea, angry often a times, obeyed the orders of such a poet. After months of travel, the poem reached a woman on the other side of the water and when she opened the bottle, she found the words of her poet. Below are the very words he sent her on that day…

Powered by a force unseen,
moving souls – separated towards the Lord’s decree,
Once individuals alone, perhaps together they’ll be set free,
to pursue Allah’s great pleasure and enter into His mercy!

In the midst of silence,
and the darkness of night,
two souls far apart speak..!
In a foreign language that flows towards a fading light!
And time freezes,
suddenly everything feels just right.
Hearts beat,
at a on and off beat,
while the trees submit their sights to watch the decree,
and the angels stand to record
the actions of two individuals who’ve placed their case before their Lord!

My Top Quranic Reciters
April 7, 2009

10 things that need to change for the Ummah (Part 1)
April 6, 2009

     Lets be real, things aren’t going all that well for the Muslim Ummah and although some of the trails are but tests, others have reached us because of our collective lack of contribution towards the religion of Allah. That said..I was thinking, in fact I was debating with some friends regarding what are the top ten issues that need to change in order to return respect back to the Ummah of Muhammad (peace be upon him). In other words, what do we, as Muslims, need to do in order to return to our good old days (you know..those days when Umar would walk around with his stick in his hands but find no use for it because everyone was living in fear of Allah who can see all and knows what the hearts conceal – yeah those good old days).

     And during the exchanging of ideas between my group of friends, some of them started sharing ideas that seemed very realistic and thoughtful while another group of my friends, God knows how they came to their far-from-reality conclusions but nevertheless, important aspects of the Ummah need to change for the better. And down below are some of the ten things that I would love to see changed overnight if possible (which is highly unlikely but khyre insha’Allah…)

1) Parents need to take more responsibilities towards raising the next generation of Muslim leaders and it starts with an increased amount of  teachings of  Allah and His religion. I see too many parents sending their children off to ‘Islamic’ classes only for those kids to return to their homes and not see what their Quran teacher was preaching being practised at home. Also parents need to engage and become more aware of their children’s mindsets and needs. Being a parent doesn’t mean be a dictator, it just means be a good example and become that bridge that takes your child from a potentially ignorant lifestyle to the healthy world of obedience and eemaan. And yes I know being a parent isn’t the easiest thing in the world but that’s why there are two individuals working together in order to grant that child the best opportunity at success. And for all those single Muslim parents, may Allah reward you twice for all their struggles.

2) Muslims need to stop living like their neighbors when their neighbors are the leaders of corruption. As a Muslim we have our own values and morals, and we do not need to exchange our value system for any other man made system. Allah has said, “it may be that you dislike a thing which is good for you and that you like a thing which is bad for you, Allah knows but you do not know” and yes, Allah knows best, so lets take what He has given us and leave the remaining for all those who seek nothing from the hereafter.

3) Being Muslim doesn’t mean you should always be serious and not smile. In fact there are many complaints within the Muslim circles that “so and so” doesn’t look happy although he is a practising brother, and when I go and visit so and so, I find that those who’ve complained are being honest about their observations. Although in reality its a big misunderstanding because “so and so” is in fact happy but since he doesn’t smile much or engage with the people around him, he not only comes off differently but he also, indirectly that is, presents an attitude of unhappiness for many practising individuals. For example, a Muslim who is not really practising might start to believe the misconception that ‘practising’ doesn’t lead to a life of happiness because of the examples they’ve seen of other practising people. And as Muslims we need to realize that we are the representers for the religion of Allah and although it is true, the worship of Allah is by far the most important part of our lives, just don’t forget to smile and enjoy the presence of your family and friends. In other words, don’t be a robot, be happy.

4) We need to start thinking outside the box. We need to stop living our lives for ourselves and realize that we are a community connected through the religion of Allah so that means, we will forever be connected. So lets feel the pain in our hearts for those Muslims who are suffering day in and day out, and lets not submit to the ignorant “I got one life to live so I will do me” mentality that has been promoted by the West. 

5) Worship of Allah. We need to increase in it and make it sincere for Him. And by increasing the worship of Allah I don’t mean to increase the worship of Allah during times of adversity but to have that constant connection with Him who created you. The Ummah is experiencing the problems of today mainly for two reasons 1) It is a test and we just need to be patient or 2) Our sins are many. The reasons can fall under two categories but the answer is simple and only one – worship Allah more and be sincere.

6) Dignity. The Ummah needs its dignity back and we shouldn’t become content with living under any other circumstance. I heard someone say, “I would rather die with dignity then live under oppression” and I think that should become the slogan of our lives. We are Muslims and Islam is not a religion that is disgraced so why then do we agree to live in humiliation?

To be continued (insha’Allah)

Hooyo and Papa!
April 4, 2009

     If you could see my mother when she notices me walk into the room, you would quickly notice her eyes light up. Her face shines with happiness and I swear by Allah, I’ve never, not yesterday nor today, seen anyone look at me with such merciful eyes. And because of her mercy for me, I hate to disappoint her in any way. I love her so much and none of the words in the English language can illustrate the depth of my love for her. She is an amazing woman who often reminds me of Allah. I remember when I use to live at home and during some dark parts of the night when my siblings and I would be engaged in conversations, and while the rest of society were in the comfort of their beds, I would see my mother engaged in some act of worship. And once, during the later parts of re-memorable night, as I laid paranoid in my bed, I heard some noise coming from a different section of the house. And being the curious soul I am, I rose out of my bed and started my investigation of who and what was the causing that particular noise. And as I slowly made my way towards the source of noise, I heard some light crying coming from the dinning room. That night, I saw my mother standing in front of Allah, humble and aware of her Creator, pouring to Him her heart’s pain. I watched her stand and as I listened to her recite the ayaats of the Quran to Him who revealed them, and when she had completed her prayer I came from behind her and wrapped her with my arms, holding her tight, granting her a safety zone to cry in. I’ve never seen my mother cry to the extent she did on that night and although I would never want to see her cry again because I attribute tears to pain; I understood such tears were for Allah and I would pleased if she cried often to her Lord. That was several years ago and since that emotional night, my mother and I have grown so much closer. We share a very down to earth relationship and on many occasions I fire left and right, releasing my share of jokes hoping to make her smile. Sometimes I challenge her to a game of basketball knowing the fact that she’s never played a single match in her entire life, and in return she counters that challenge with one of her own – facts based upon the history of Somali poetry which I know very little about.

     Naturally I’m a happy person and now that I’m away from home, whenever my mother feels down and needs a lift, or if she’s just low on jokes, she picks up the phone and gives me a call. And just the other day she called me and in the midst of our conversation she asked, “what did you eat all day..?” and I was like nothing much although I’m craving for secret dish and right then and there, we spent close to two hours on the phone as she walked me through the steps needed in preparing her secret dish. May Allah be pleased with our parents.

     As for my father, what can I say about him? He is the foundation of my love, the vain that pumps blood into my heart and the center of my soul. And although he is located on the other side of the water, his remembrance serves as fuel for my cold lonely days. And when I think of the Jannah Allah has promised the believers, and if I should enter it, I always envision walking through the gates of paradise holding my wife with my right hand and my father with my left hand as I watch my mother walk in front of me. Perhaps one day my envision may become reality.

The Fall of America
March 26, 2009

    Never in history has a Nation who submitted to the notion that victory was their ‘right’, ever victorious. And it seems as I flick the channels on my television, the more I flick, the more I realize the Americans believe they can win the war in Afghanistan without paying much attention to, nor investing the proper means needed, in order to have a lagitimate shot at victory. As President Obama’sadministration focuses on tackling the economic issues at home, more and more US and NATO military service men and women return to their Motherlands in coffins draped with the flags of their country. Shameful, you would think. What surprises me more is the fact that no one from the media nor the public is asking serious questions. As US soldiers fight on the well experienced lands of Afghanistan against men who would rather die for their cause then to turn their backs; the Americans are more concerned about job growth and AIG, and all of this seems bazaar, taking into consideration the American Military is marching towards defeat. The public shouts at the top of their lungs, screaming and demanding answers as to why AIG executives received millions in bonuses, and all of this in the midst of soldiers dying at the hands of insurgents? No. Rather their deaths, for the most part, are a result of IEDs. So why are so many Americans more concerned about job growth and the situation pertaining to their banks, when in fact their Nations’ secuirty is at risk? It would seem to an individual, who has been given the gift of common sense that security outweighs prosperity. But after witnessing eight years and counting of US failed policies, a little common sense is probably too much to ask. Now it makes some sense: what do you call a group of leaders who are corrupt and on the brink of stupidity? I replied, Saudis? But apparently the correct answer was Americans.

     Just the other day, as I was minding my own business at a local coffee shop, taking time out of my day in completing a book called  “Marching Toward Hell: American and Islam after Iraq” by Micheal Scheuer, an individual approached and inquired about the contents within the book. Thereafter, the innocent conversation turned into a debate regarding America and Nato’s involvement in Afghanistan. And in the midst of our conversation, as we exchanged ‘intellectual slap in the face’ comments, I asked him for his opinion regarding the comments by a Fox employee who blasted Canada’s efforts in Afghanistan and at that, the gentleman said, “what do Americans know! They’ll loose in Afghanistan like the Russians lost!” Will they really be defeated? In my opinion, and after reading Micheal Scheuer’s book, surely they will. And the defeat of the Americans, the only superpower remaining in the world, will come at the hands of the “rag and tag” Mujahideen in Afghanistan. A defeat that will surprise the world save a few. And their defeat will be a direct result of an arrogant military force, despite the soldiers who fight on the battlefields in Afghanistan having learned the hard way- in order to survive one must abandon the mentality of the wild-hot shooting- cowboy from western films, the American Generals stationed in Washingston and their governing elites have yet to abandon the Cold War mentality that Mr. Scheuer continues to speak out against. Nevertheless, when a nation is marching towards defeat, sooner rather than later, the two must meet. 

     The biggest losers in this conflict, when the matter is said and done, will be the weak tyrants that rule the Muslim World. If God had granted those leaders some common sense, the Saudi ruling family would realize, after the Americans withdraw from Afghanistan as the Soviets withdrew, the Mujahideen will redirect their focus on their government. The Mujahideen, at that point, would be filled with confidence, after having defeated the only superpower left in the world and moreover, the Mujahideen would be motivated to overturn the governments that rule the Muslim Lands, starting in Saudi Arabia. And how do these tyrants expect to survive such a war with the Mujahideen after having witnessed the collapse of America, their former protectors? On the contrary, not only would they have little to no chance in standing up to fight, and to make matters worse, many more individuals from their countries would line themselves behind the “freedom fighter” in taking down their respected governments. And in the midst of all of this, after the Americans are defeated and the Saudis can no longer stand to fight the Mujahideen, the world will begin to look a lot different. The Mujahideen, with the help of the Saudi people, would overtake the Saudi governing body and in turn, after becoming the newest rulers of the Muslim World, they would halt all oil exported to America. In effect, leading to a further collapse of an America that we once knew. The only question remaining…can all of this be avoided? I don’t know…you tell me?