Posted in Journey, Life, Poetry

Message Received

It’s a mess

The deliberating. The waiting

Boils down to this moment

Time passes so slowly

But I cuss myself for wishing it’d rush and

I pace

Knees are moving racing with my thoughts

Stand up. Sit down. Stand up. Sit down.

I stand

I pace

I hear it. The beep. Message received.

Normal routine

Alarms and rushed breakfasts with food not appreciated

It’s a hard knock life

but harder when the life gets knocked out of us

By our own stupidity

To not stand still and breathe in the fresh air of pollution

Whilst we acknowledge the skyscrapers my brother built last night with lego

and we dream

For seconds in a day

of owning that Lamborghini that just splashed our suit and ruined our day

that rolex on the wrist of that perfect boss so slick so mean

Boss so outraged

It’s a mess

Wasted thirty years chasing a home that is still not mine

in a job where I have not found success

Collecting money but my pockets still empty

taking meds to figure out the fog

whilst that fog that got forced down my throat from my lambo

clouded my lungs thick black

Egos the size of canyons in small worlds

We’re banging heads against each other


Piercing the souls of the believers as they forget

forget what they came here for

it wasn’t for these human formed idols


Chasing success of the wrong kind

We push hard against the forces of modernisation

Becoming modern muslims who are moderately mutilating our own message

It disgusts me

Short skirts and tattoos on believers

But we have to set a pace

for those slower to jump on our wave

We push hard against injustices

So stop punishing yourself when the Lord has said he will forgive you

Take a breathe I assure you like I have been assured

that if you take a look around the mercys are so blatant

Every person is successful

Just set the pace of a man on a mission with a broken leg

shuffling forward at a pace of an ant

small in comparison to your problems

but progress and accomplishment are part of your making

so do not despair

Message received.




Hi, my name's Aisha and I am 24 years of age. I'm passionate about writing poetry. Sometimes, I don't know how to convey my thoughts in normal conversation but I can spin off a poem about what I am feeling in 5 minutes. Or less. Writing is my thing. Like it is a lot of people's 'thing' and sometimes the only 'thing' that is a sufficient outlet to stop us all from going crazy. There's a lot of pain and anxiety in my poems, but often relief, which I find hard to convey but manage to slip it in at the end with a reference from the Quran or a hadith. If you feel you recognise this same emotional attachment to words, then feel free to read my blog and do not hesitate to contact me, comment and subscribe! Peace, Aisha -a.K.a-

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