Just keep away
or it will be me that will pay
Stay away from my heart
Because I don’t want it torn apart
Don’t leave me
or my tears could fill many a pail
If you really care
my heart you will spare
A simple friend, when visiting, acts like a guest.
A real friend opens your refrigerator and helps himself.
A simple friend has never seen you cry.
A real friend has shoulders soggy from your tears.
A simple friend doesn’t know your parents’ first names.
A real friend has their phone numbers in his address book.
A simple friend brings a bottle of wine to your party.
A real friend comes early to help you cook and stays late to help you clean.
A simple friend hates it when you call after he has gone to bed.
A real friend asks you why you took so long to call.
A simple friend seeks to talk with you about your problems.
A real friend seeks to help you with your problems.
A simple friend wonders about your romantic history.
A real friend could blackmail you with it.
A simple friend thinks the friendship is over when you have an argument.
A real friend calls you after you had a fight.
A simple friend expects you to always be there for them.
A real friend expects to always be there for you!
My sisters, you come in many colours
each with a shape and beauty all its own
like flowers in a garden
who can say which is best?
Tiny flaws are swallowed up by
The more you look
the more is uncovered
revealing delicate softness
covered with thick stalks
and some times thorns
We grow hardness without
to protect the vulnerability within
The flower dies all too soon
but in the spring
a new bud will form on a sturdy stalk
a new beauty yet to blossom
and share its God-given splendour
with the world.
I see your puppy dog eyes, they are buried
in my vision. No one can take that away.
Your smile which used to bring me so much
joy is still imbedded in my mind, heart,
and soul. I twisted your dreads only to
realize that I had no skills whatsoever to
even attempt to do that. But you allowed me
too. Your teeth, your tummy, and your feet.
Please, the memories are still vivid. No
one can change those memories. They are
forever a part of me. The love that I once
felt could never be replaced, years later
finding out that it never could. We bought
so much pain into each other’s life. I’m
sad for the choices that I made. I wish I
knew what I had back then. I’m sorry for
ever causing you any pain and I hope the
feeling is mutual. You were an angel for
me at times. I couldn’t fully return that
for you because I didn’t know how.
Life moves on days go by and all I do is cry
in the morning I awake my face stained with tears
my sheets drenched with tears
all I feel is pain and despair
I call at for my children only they are not there
then I remember that my ex has stolen them away
the courts gave them to him on the 23rd of January since then it has been like a living nightmare only I can’t awake from it
I pray to Allah every day and night to keep them safe and bring them home soon
This poem was written in 2006 of January when my ex husband got awarded custody of my 2 eldest children)
When I Woke Up
I woke up to an empty space
That place where I would see your face
The pillow cold, the covers neat
Our big old dog lay at my feet…
…waiting for me to get up.
I got up to an empty space
I made my coffee in the same old place
Your cup sits empty in the cupboard there
On the counter some breakfast we used to share…
…I cannot eat.
I walked out to an empty space
I drew a smile upon my face
But deep inside my heart would cry
Sometimes so bad I thought I’d die…
…and I do.
Sister you frighten me,
entering the gates to this garden,
I wanted to lock the door
and guard this garden I tended.
Oh Sister, your innocent eyes
knows not my passion
Hidden beneath the soil I tend.
You have brought a new fruit
to this garden,
To me, and I see this flower
to grown there.
Where I share my fruit.
Sister, you have brought me
far beyond where I ever believed to be,
Closer to the One
I have been striving to see, Allah
subhana wa ta allah.
Sister, you scare me too,
I let go of the darkness
in my soul, to open the gates to this garden.
Help me Sister, to see
The things that hinder me,
That keep me from being what I want to be.
Help me Sister,
To open the boundaries of this garden,
And tend to the fruit that growns there.
Let me open my heart,
Allah commands me,
Let me free myself from
the chains of emotion,
And fly to be closer to my Lord,
and to this garden.
Then Sister, take care of me,
When I lay down in time,
And tend to my garden where I lie.
Yes I too have a dream
Some of you may recognize my dream, but I like to repost it every now and then to keep it alive and give it legs.
In celebration of Martin Luther King, Jr.:
I have a dream that one day I won’t hold my breath every time I tell a person that I suffer from bipolar disorder, that I won’t feel shameful in confessing my mental illness.
I have a dream that people won’t feel the need to applaud me for my courage on writing and speaking publicly about my disease, because the diagnosis of depression and bipolar disorder would be understood no differently than that of diabetes, arthritis, or dementia.
I have a dream that the research into genetics of mood disorders will continue to pinpoint specific genes that may predispose individuals and families to depression and bipolar disorder (like the gene G72/G30, located on chromosome 13q), just as…
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One day I saw
My own face on my wall;
It looked like a girl from the streets.
I remember that fall
My own face on my wall,
A vision of faith and defeat.
But the river still runs under me.
Someday I’ll find that love somewhere,
and that someday,
I’ll be right next to you.