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Paths

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Paths

In loving memory of Kenzie

You don’t get to judge others who are different from you.

Those who have different beliefs

living according to their decision.

If they are not harming you or others,

it is their choice to move across the Earth

to the beat of their own drum.

It is not your place to scold them,

to degrade them, or make them feel inferior.

It is not your place to shun them,

to make them think Allah created them dirty.

We all have a place to be merciful.

To be kind. To be just!

Though you may not support ones path,

they have the right to follow it

in peace. 

 

If you or someone you know are in a suicidal crisis or emotional distress, help is available. You don’t have to fight your battles alone.

Happy with Caution

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When the days seem sunny

you smile with whispers

Whispers hitting you

at all angles

Warning you

to proceed with caution

You’ve been here before

Smiling on sunny days

balancing on clouds

You’ve been here before

Embracing the moment

naïve to the shield of deception

So this time

this time while you are smiling

on sunny days, balancing

on clouds, you’ve been here

before, and so

you proceed with caution

and a plan

that lies in your breast

only known to Allah

Recited to your heart

during the last third of the night

Every night

Keep smiling

on those sunny days

balancing on clouds

and if

and when

that shield of deception falls once more

the clouds will shield your heart

and balance your plan

The Heart

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You may color her heart

with every color imagined

It will never cover the pain you caused

Her heart, it may forgive you

but there’s a dark spot deep

within, created with your name on it

You could’ve saved it from drowning

fed it your last meal

It will never see you the same

It will only see your potential

to betray at any cost

To betray despite the possible lost

Forgotten

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As soon as the opportunity arise
he will become another son
forgotten.
Left to find ways to become a man on his own
just because the man who planted him
chose to impress the “new family”.
Dedicating all his precious time
to prove that he could handle more
than one family.
To prove that he could handle
being a father figure
to a village of fatherless boys.

Forgetting
that his precious time is also due
to the seed who endured hard times
before the man who planted him
became recognized by the world
and stable.

But of course
with new found stability
comes new pu$$y
and well
if it offers the male who planted him
a life of bliss. . .excitement
treating him like a king on the level of God
well then
without a doubt he will leave.
He will leave everything
emotionally
mentally
physically.

Forgetting
about the seed he planted
who will himself will grow
to plant more seeds.
Then the mother of the seed he planted
will pray until her death
that her son breaks the cycle
taking a merciful lead.

Regret

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Years of lust
Has caused you a lifetime of regret

Regret,
of abandoning the one
who held your heart
and embraced your soul
through 7 dark years

Regret,
for not understanding
that this world is full of unwarranted test
and desperate women striving
to remove a Queen’s crown

Regret,
for being the sole reason
why she thought she could

Regret,
for thinking you were her only one
Such a little fool

Regret,
because she was suppose to be your #2
but you were her #2 all along

Regret,
for paving a deceptive path
Please add it your long list of skills

Regret,
for really thinking
that you could desert
the human seeds you planted
and start a flourishing garden
with a dried fig

Regret,
for trying to use your grandmother’s advice
“Just start a new family, baby”
against the family that made you, You.

I’ve Missed You

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ShadowPeople-58a345113df78c4758d4f14d

Where did you go?
I’ve missed you.
A decade is a long time
to go missing my dear.
For years I never even wondered
where you disappeared to.
Too busy keeping other people happy.
Or so I thought.

I’ve missed you.
Your beautiful character
The gleaming smile
Those almond eyes full of wonder
Where did you go?
Where were you?

I’ve missed you.
How you could wear anything
and make it look good.
Remember you tore off the bottom of a shirt into shreds?
Attached it to those beige strapless heels.
Used it as a leg lace.
It seemed as though everywhere you turned
eyes of strangers were fixated on your creativity
I’ve missed that.

I’ve missed you.
Have you arrived for good?
Why did it take years of my collapse
for you to reappear?
Are you here to help?
Are you here to remind me of who I use to be?
Who I still am?
Are you here to help me release the shield
of continuously making others happy
only to fall asleep drowning in my tears?

Where did you go?
Stay!
I’ve missed you.

It Was All A Dream Part 1

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images
I am Sameed, a Black Muslim convert. I’m married to 1 wife with 8 children. 7 of my children are by my wife, Aminah. I met my wife while working at a trade firm. Back then, her name was Carla. I was a new Muslim. She was Christian. She was beautiful. Young! Beautifully young. 12 years younger than me. Her skin was like smooth sweet chocolate. Her work area was right next to mines. I remember how I was so infatuated with her slim body that I would deliberately get up to get coffee just to walk pass her.

I started talking to a close friend of mine about her. I really wanted to engage conversations with her. I was very interested in her. However, I was married. To a Christian. I desired a Muslim wife, but I hadn’t found any Black Muslim women of interest, and I didn’t think it was even possible or an option to seek interest in a Muslim woman who wasn’t Black. I don’t know. Low-self-esteem maybe.

Carla, now Aminah, my wife of 15 years, was determined. I didn’t even have to start a conversation with her. While sitting at my desk, I received a same time message on my computer. It was from her. I was in shock. Blushing, but in mad shock. What could she want with me? She wanted a lot! She wanted me. Our instant messages became more and more serious by the day. We were writing each other poems, saying sweet things to each other, wishing upon stars…so to speak. It happened so quickly. Then finally after about a week or so, we went out for lunch. I remember that day so clear. We went to a pizza shop. I ordered a pizza without swine. She gave me a confused look, and then she ordered the same.

We sat on a brown metallic engraved bench nearby: To Marcy Flinch. May she ride the sun forever! It was so beautiful out. The sun beamed on Carla’s smooth skin as she smiled asking me every question about my life like we were at a dating meet and greet convention. It was cool though! I didn’t lie about anything. My wife, my 1 kid conceived by a crazed broad. She still seemed interested in me. Then, she asked me . . . about the cheese pizza. “You don’t eat pepperoni”, she asked. I told her absolutely no. I told her I was Muslim. The warm breeze seemed to stand still for a split second before she said, “Really”, with curiosity.

From then on out it was pure bliss. I didn’t know how I would discuss her with my wife. . . . I wasn’t going to discuss her with my wife. My then Christian wife would’ve never understood me taking on another wife. Never! Carla was asking me questions about Islam on a daily. Our conversations were becoming something I hadn’t imagined it would. Every day it seemed as if I was getting closer and closer to my ultimate goal: Marrying a Muslim woman.

I reached that goal. Carla became Muslim. Aminah became my everything! That was 15 years ago. The time has gone away so quick, and so has my interest in her.

With All The Negatives

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burned-n-broken-hearts

How did this happen?
Why. . .her?
You thought. . .he wanted someone observant.
Modest. . .pious. . . .
A good wife, the good wife.
Keeper of the home. . .
caretaker of his children.
Dutiful to him.
Pleasing to his eye.
A believer. . .
holding TRUE. . .
to The Creator. . . .
No!
Apparently, those attributes
incite a mundane woman
He loves you, yes.
He wants you in his life, indeed.
But my dear,
you
are the “home” woman.
He lives another life,
fastly, without you.
In his fast life he desires the complete opposite
A woman
who excites him
through her language, vulgar.
Who shows no fear to The Creator,
respect, to Him.
Garrulous.
Opionated.
Full of expression,
in the weirdest way.
Inappropriate.
Not afraid,
to cover in modesty one day.
Swing her curls openly
to the world the next.
Not afraid,
to step into a crowd of sinners.
Joining them.
Imitating them.
He. . .loves her
He. . . loves that,
in her.
Excitement.
She stands
on her own two feet.
Only needing his laughs,
his companionship,
his touch.
She is not. . .his burden.
he doesn’t have to take care of her
or her children.
His time with her is all fun.
All play.
No worries.
A get away from the reality.
Excitement.
With all the negatives.

Hushed Darkness Part 1

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Salaams. My name is Rasha. I’m writing this letter from the Metro State Prison Mental Health Unit in Georgia. I was secretly in a polygyny marriage for 4 years. My husband had informed me when we first met that his wife was not entirely against the idea of a polygyny lifestyle, she just didn’t think it was right for their marriage at that time. He explained how she often complained about him working around the clock, leaving no time for them and their 3 children together as a family, or for them together alone. If he could just learn to manage his time, she would possibly consider it.

However, although what she complained about was true, it wasn’t her decision. It was his decision. It was his right to do as he pleased in terms of taking on another wife. I understood the situation he was in. I also understood that he couldn’t hold any financial responsibility in our relationship if we were to wed, but I was okay with this. He was truthful from the beginning, stating, “My pockets may only be able to afford one wife, but my heart has room for two”.

I fell deep in love over the 7 months we dated, eventually marrying him with strange and daring stipulations. He couldn’t afford to pay for my living expenses, and at that time, I was a college student living with a close friend. He wanted me to at least have equal time with him as his first wife did so he came up with a plan.

For 4 years, I secretly lived in a separate room in which my husband kept locked; in back of the basement of his first wife’s home. During the day, I would attend classes, study at the library and visit my parents, and friends. I worked evenings as well, so my day would pretty much end around 9:30 PM or so. By that time, my husband’s children would be sleep, and his first wife would either be sleep as well, or resting in her room on the 3rd floor.

Every night, I would wait in my car on the corner of the street. Waiting. . .for my husband to call me to let me know it was safe to come in.

I really would like to share my entire story with you. Will you be my pen pal?