Category Archives: Poetry



🍁 Poetic Saturday 🍁


Imagine yourself after you pass away…

Imagine your grave through night and through day…

Wishing that you did not do as they say….

Wishing that you had got up and had prayed.

Imagine, my friends, the day that you died…

Imagine all of the tears that they cried….

Remember how it felt when your body was tied….

Remember how it felt in the grave which you lied….

Imagine the day you’ll be called to account…

Imagine the sum to which your life will amount…

Think for a moment of the deeds which you mount….

Think for a moment how much they will count….

What will they say of you when you are dead?

What will they say, what will be said?

Will they speak of all the poor who you fed?

Will they remember all the Qu’ran that you read?

Think not of them, but of Allah, Lord of mankind and jinn….

Think of Allah when tempted to sin….

Think of the paradise which you will dwell in….

Don’t wait till later to think what might have been….




🍃 Poetic Saturday 🍃

How do you define death?

Is it the end of an existance or the begginning of a new breath

Is it the decaying of a body

Or the realisation that you were really nobody

Is it the relievement of agonising pain

Or the begginning of a grave punishment which bears no rain

Your whole life prepared you for this moment

But you spent most of that time engaging in temporary amusement

Forgetting that your day was soon to come

When the angels take your soul and label you as scum

You begin to ask yourself ‘what did I do to deserve this? ‘

Oh poor soul, you chose the Dunya over eternal bliss

You neglected a day in which you were promised

La Illaha illallah flowed through your tongue, but were you ever honest?

Because honesty results in an action

But Islam to you, was more of a transaction

When times were hard and difficult

You turned to the one that can make your life more bearable

And thats the only time you would bow your head onto the floor

When you felt that you were deserving of something more

But, Now that the angel of death has knocked on your door

You start begging him, that you can change as if you were poor

But, You could have made that change if you took your hands out of your pocket

You chose to disobey Allah for a larger, maximised profit

So when the ugliest of creachers Munkar and Nakeer, interogate you for the life you lead

Terrified and petrified you would have chosen to remain dead

Because deep-down, you know of the judgement that is to come

Theres no place underground, where you can run

This is what you have prepared for this day

So, you alone bear the punishment of the blazing ray

Crying and panicking for failing the final exam

Only if these tears were shed during your time over-ground

This could have all been avoided

Only if you took notice

That this life was only temporary,

All that fun and amusement, becomes a painful memory

Only if you had another chance

Instead of living life as if you were in a trance

So take heed of this message, before this becomes your reality

Because death is something innevitable which you shouldnt take light-heartedly



🌷 Poetic Saturday 🌷

When you leave something for the sake of your Lord,

He’ll replace it with something even better as reward,

Like Musa (AS), who had problems giving speech

Yet spoke to GOD, a conversation so unique..

And if your heart aches and lacerations surround your soul,

Drops crawl from your eyes, hiding stories untold..

Remember, all of those, God knows..

Just like when Yunus (AS) was trapped in the belly of a whale

That ONE du’a was of great avail..

And don’t worry if you’re strugglin’

Cos if you’re patient, your good deeds are doublin’

Remember Ibrahim (AS), who sacrificed without blinkin’ twice

Endured so much, to his own father opposed

Yet he was guaranteed ‘gardens beneath which rivers flow’


If things get really tough

Then remind yourself of a man*

Who was offered the SUN and MOON in the palm of his hand

But refused to let corruption spread through the land

He never met his father or mother

At the age of 8, lost a loving grandfather

Beaten until blood poured down to his blessed feet

Still he never surrendered, did not accept defeat

Of a gentle disposition, full of love..

So ask yourself this question:

Are your struggles ANYTHING compared to all of the above?

(Peace and blessings be upon them)

Thank you Allah

Thank you Allah

🌹 Poetic Saturday 🌹

Even though I clutch my blanket and growl when the alarm rings, Thank you Allah, that I can hear. There are many who are deaf.

Even though I keep my eyes closed against the morning light as long as possible, Thank you Allah, that I can see. Many are blind.

Even though I huddle in my bed and put off rising, Thank you O Allah, that I have the strength to rise. There are many who are bedridden.

Even though the first hour of my day is hectic, when socks are lost,toast is burned,tempers are short,dad’s anger ; Thank you Allah, for my family. There are many who are lonely.

Even though our breakfast table never looks like the pictures in magazines and the menu is at times balanced, Thank you Allah, for the food we have. There are many who are hungry.

Even though I grumble and lament my fate from day to day and wish my circumstances were not so modest, Thank you, Allah, for life…

Ya Allah Shukr for everything…!

Selfies vs soulfies

Selfies vs soulfies

💝 Poetic Saturday 💝

The era of the #Selfie,

Let’s show the world who we claim to be! Ironic isn’t it?

That our selfies are not really about our selves, are they?

As if a perfectly filtered, edited, cropped photo (we’ve all been there or still are) could ever be a depiction of ourselves.

We are way better than that.

Better than a like on instagram or a re-tweet on twitter.

Better than a comment or a share. Strange how we say “its the inside that counts” yet whats on the outside is where we really care.

But that’s the problem.

We live in a world where the inner is hidden away and the outer exposed.

We live a life of a lie.

Constantly editing and deleting, perfecting and filtering…and all for what?

For some likes on a photo?

But do those likes not mean that they “like” how you look not how you are?

We live in a world that’s constantly being edited, and so we do the same.

We edit ourselves.

We hide behind filters.

We cut and we copy and we paste what we say.

We upload;

That fake version of ourselves that we want the world to believe is us.

Because we’re too scared to show everyone the real us.

The real you; your soul, your heart, your mind.

Imagine if selfies were soulfies.

A picture capturing your soul. The inside that we try so hard to hide,

exposed for everyone to see. Your sins, your lies, your within, your desires.

Your deepest most darkest thoughts, to the guilt of many years ago tucked away behind newer ones.

But also the beauty of you, the real you. The beauty the world never see’s.

Would you take a soulfie?

My mind turns to our beloved Prophet Muhammad (pbuh).

Look how well we know Him;

his manners, his character, his speech, his likes and dislikes –

it’s as if we’ve known him in person.

We know him better than we know some of our own.

But have we ever seen him?

Is there a picture of him?

Of course not, yet we know him so well. We know Him from the inside; for his pure soul and his blessed heart.

We know Him how a person should be known and that is enough for us.

If only selfies were soulfies,

So that the world could see the real you and the real me…

The Amatullah in You

The Amatullah in You

💧 Poetic Saturday 💧

The Amatullah in You

I see you coming in your boyfriend’s car dressed in your fashionable hijab, your head high up like a camel’s hump.

You listen to the latest music without a care in the world, living life to the fullest is your goal.

You’re so caught up in this life’s illusion, you want the latest shoes and the most expensive clothes. Your only talk is what she’s doing and what he’s got.

But I look at you for what you truly are, a muslimah, an a’abida. The people around you may not see it, you yourself may not see it because you look at the exterior while I look at the interior.

I know beyond that tight fitting abaya and the red lipstick is an amatullah who loves Allah(SWT) and His messenger, who wants to submit wholeheartedly to Him.

I know that deep inside is my modest sister in islam who wants to maintain her chastity and above all, wants to make it to jannah.

I see you as someone who has succumbed to her desires and fallen victim to the society’s evils, but I look at you as someone who can fight off that satan and defeat her nafs.

My dear sister, I know you can do it! I know that you can clean that heavy make up and stop shaving those eyebrows. I know you’re capable of breaking off that haram relationship and maintaining your modesty. I know you’re better than to post pictures of yourself all over the internet for strange men to gaze upon.

I know that you can submit fully to Allah and be that superb muslimah that you are destined to be!

So come on my sister don’t be shy, you have kept it in for so long it’s time to let it out, release the Amatullah in you!



🍂 Poetic Saturday 🍂

Hassan bin Thaabit, a poet from Arabia, was paid off by the kuffar to go and stare at the Prophet ﷺ, then to vilify him by writing demeaning poetry about him. Poetry, unlike many other forms of expression, were memorized and spread quickly and widely throughout the community.

It is for this reason that the enemies of the Prophet ﷺ found that this would be the best weapon against our beloved. Hassan bin Thaabit, finding this to be a fairly simple task, sought out the Prophet and perceived his every move trying to find the content for a slandering poem.

After some time of watching the Prophet, Hassan bin Thaabit realized that he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t write a slanderous poem about a man whom he admired so much and whom he only saw good from. He returned to the enemies of the Prophet, gave them back their money, and became Muslim. He was then one of the most famous poets amongst the Muslims, and rather than write poetry against the Prophet he produced the most eloquent words praising him, like this one. SubhanAllah!

‘When I saw his light shining forth, In fear I covered my eyes with my palms, Afraid for my sight because of the beauty of his form. So I was scarcely able to look at him at all.

The lights, from his light, are drowned and his face shines out like the sun and moon in one. A spirit of light lodged in a body like the moon, a mantle made up of brilliant shining stars. I bore it until I could bear it no longer. I found the taste of patience to be like bitter aloes.

I could find no remedy to bring me relief other than delighting in the sight of the one I love. Even if he had not brought any clear signs with him, the sight of him would dispense with the need for them.

Muhammad is a human being but not like other human beings. Rather he is a flawless diamond and the rest of mankind is just stones. Blessings be on him so that perhaps God may have mercy on us on that burning Day when the Fire is roaring forth its sparks.’- Hasan bin Thabit