Posted in Contemplation, Humanity, Islam, Journey, Life, Peace, Poetry, Religion, Travel, Uncategorized, Unspoken spoken word

The Traveller

You can walk for days on end

in the blistering heat

cracked feet

eyes squinting as the Sun refuses to give way

the traveller’s prayers are destined to be granted

destiny always has a part to play

But that’s not why we take this path today

It seems we are unconsciously walking on

Wondering when we will find that force so strong

to rock our boat

set our compass

align the stars as one would say

so we can plod, we can glide, briskly or swiftly

we can stroll we can limp

but we’ll meet strangers

other travellers

trying to find where they are going

along this gravelly smooth jagged and open road

the high fast anxious seas

to our peaceful destination


Posted in Anti-violence, Anti-war, Emotions, Freedom, Humanity, Islam, Journey, Justice, Life, Religion, Uncategorized

Muhammad Ali-A tribute

An extract from “The Soul of a Butterfly” by Muhammad Ali and Hana Yasmeen Ali

“A newfound FRIEND

It was a hot day in May. I was at Fighter’s Heaven, my training camp in Deer Lake, Pennsylvania, getting ready for my fight against George Foreman. After a long and hard workout I’d gone back to my dressing room with Gene Kilroy, who helped run the camp.

We were sitting there when there was a knock on my cabin door. Gene went to see who it was. A young boy with health problems wanted to meet me. I told Gene to send him in, and seconds later the boy appeared with his father. The boy wore a heavy sweater and a wool cap. I asked him why he was wearing that hot sweater and cap.

The boy told me that he had leukaemia and that he was wearing the cap because all his hair had fallen out, due to the chemotherapy that he had undergone.

A wave of sadness passed over me, and at the same time I realised how lucky I was to have healthy children. Gene took a picture of the twelve-year old boy with me and as the boy prepared to leave I asked him his name.

“My name is Jimmy” he answered, and he added that I had made him very happy. I looked at him and told him that I was going to beat George Foreman in the upcoming fight and that he was going to beat cancer.

Jimmy gave me a hug. “You’re right!” he said.

As the boy was leaving I said, “Jimmy, don’t forget what I told you.”

He gave me a big smile, waved goodbye, and walked out the door.

A couple of days later I had the picture of Jimmy and me blown up and sent it to the boy’s father. On it I’d written:

‘To my friend Jimmy,

You’re going to beat cancer. I’m going to beat George.

Love, Your friend,

Muhammad Ali’

Two weeks later, while I was on the way to do my road workout, Gene told me that the boy’s father had called to thank me for the picture. He’d gone on to explain that Jimmy was now in the University of Pennsylvania hospital and didn’t have much more time to live.

This made me feel so sad that I told Gene to let the boy’s father know that we were driving down to the hospital immediately to visit little Jimmy. Three hours later we arrived at the hospital and went straight up to Jimmy’s room. When I walked in he was lying in his bed and I saw that his skin was as white as his sheets were.

Jimmy looked up with bright eyes and called out, “Muhammad, I knew you would come!”

I walked over to his bedside and said, “Jimmy, remember what I told you? I’m going to beat George Foreman and you’re going to beat cancer”.

Jimmy looked up to me and whispered, “No, Muhammad. I’m going to meet God, and I’m going to tell him that you are my friend.”

  *              *            *

The room was silent and we were in tears. I hugged Jimmy goodbye and later that night when we returned to my training camp, none of us spoke much.

I guess God had a bigger plan for Jimmy because a week later Gene informed me that Jimmy had died and that I was invited to attend his funeral. I couldn’t go, so I asked Gene if he would go and represent me, and he did.

When Gene returned from the funeral he told me that there had been an open casket and that the autographed picture was beside Jimmy’s head.

Jimmy’s death was a powerful lesson in the midst of all the activity and preparation for my job–a boxing match– of how fragile and precious life is. We must always be mindful that each day is a gift from God that can be lost at any moment”.

No-one will ever be able to comprehend how much Ali inspired me to use whatever voice I have to try and make a difference. To stand up for what I believe in and to do right by people. Whenever I need some motivation and inspiration I pick up this book and find hope, I find courage, I find humility. I find a freedom fighter, with a gentle, loving nature, but with a fierce courage that only some possess. People like Muhammad Ali are rare and I have been blessed to know a time where I was able to see his impact on people. I pray to God that nobody ever diminishes his influence that he had in this world, and that he is not forgotten as just a boxer-because he was so much more than the greatest boxer of all time.

The world will be a better place if we all take snippets of his nature and instil it within ourselves. We truly lost a legend on 4th June 2016.

I pray that Allah welcomes Muhammad Ali with love and mercy, and that he is amongst the finest company in Jannah. I pray that his family have patience in this difficult time and draw strength from the love the world is displaying; I pray one day we can all be as solid in our faith as Ali was and be role models for future generations. Above all, I pray that Ali is at peace. We love you Champ.





Posted in Islam, Life, Religion, Uncategorized


The clouds recoiled from the eager eyes of Earth

Teasing them with specks of gold then retreating again

A shy child holding out her hand


then retreating to stand behind her mother

peeking from time to time behind her mother’s leg stealing glances at strangers

The land thirsted for a glimmer of hope.

A droplet

Waiting endlessly until

the perfect time

The people of the village peered at the sky through patient eyes

blocking the sun with hardened hands

signalling the end of a season

An eruption was simmering beneath the surface

Anticipation heightened as the sky began to shift

The sun, dominant and forbearing

was shrinking shrinking

The clouds thunderous and wide

-not in anger but more like a King’s welcome

the elderly, with their eyes closed, began to whisper prayers

the worried couple prematurely embraced in gratefulness

the children’s laughter interrupted by a slow, steady rumble.

Then an escaped, nervous giggle.

Silence sounded in warning

In the blink of an eye

gathering speed

the first drop

of new life


Posted in Islam, Poetry, Religion

Khadijah رضي الله عنها

She stayed

She held him while he shivered and trembled

when he was scared from his experience

She stayed

She was confident in him as a perfect human being

and that perfected her as a wife to him

She stayed

She embraced Islam the first of the mothers

She proclaimed that what he said was true

She stayed

She left her wealth for the right path

She did not delay in her departure

She stayed

A comfort, a role model, someone who

Allah personally sent His salaam to,

The mother of all the believers

She stayed

She did not even once question

this beautiful message

from the seal of the prophethood himself

she stayed


Narrated Ali: I heard the Prophet SAW saying, “Mary, the daughter of Imran, was the best among the women (of the world of her time) and Khadijah is the best amongst the women (of this nation).”
Sahih Al-Bukhari – Book 58 Hadith 164

Narrated Abu Hurairah: Jibril (Gabriel) came to the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) and said: “O Allah’s Messenger! This is Khadijah, coming to you with a dish having meat soup (or some food or drink). When she reaches you, greet her on behalf of her Lord (Allah) and on my behalf, and give her the glad tidings of having a palace made of Qasab in Paradise, wherein there will be neither any noise nor any toil, (fatigue, trouble, etc.).” [Al-Bukhari]

Posted in Anti-violence, Anti-war, campaign, Humanity, Islam, mental health, Mental State, Notes, Palestine, Poetry, Religion, Therapy

The Nakba 67

Today, people globally are commemorating The Nakba (Catastrophe) which occurred 67 years ago. May 15th 1948. 67 years ago the war and ethnic cleansing of the Palestinian people started and as we can see it continues to the present day. The Zionism agenda was pushed hard and Israel was born, displacing thousands of Palestinians and pushing them out from their homes with brutal force. All you have to do is go to Google Images and type in Palestine to see how it has significantly reduced and their freedoms have been taken from them. Yet they are portrayed as being the violent, blood-hungry, terrorists that Israel make them out to be. They have lost THEIR land, THEIR homes, everyday THEIR agriculture gets destroyed, they cannot leave due to closed borders, they do not get the medical help they need so most of them suffer from untreated illnesses. Children have serious mental health issues due to the fact that they have seen nothing but war and killing. Everyday. The number is well into the millions now and it will continue to rise if Israel are not stopped.   The ethnic cleansing has to end. It is a crime against humanity. Yet the world sleeps peacefully. Stand up today, wave a Palestinian flag in defiance, boycott Israeli goods, wear a badge, anything! Show your support and remember those who did not live to see their home be free. Let’s hope the next generation are able to see that day inshaa’Allah


The Catastrophe

I wave my flag in defiance for Palestine to be free

I don’t know them but they still my family

Brutal force used to kill children that’s a tragedy

And yet they are the evil ones

How can you look upon a baby girl and think she’s scum

and the world looks upon Israel like the victimised ones

That’s dumb

Instead of reading the papers use these tools to research yourself

You’ll find Israel never had their own wealth, and they got good health

and they murder with stealth yet you think they need help

It’s a joke

Wake up and smell that fresh blood in the air

from that last genocide that occurred last year

They tryna take Aqsa and as we commemorate Miraj tonight

I dare them to come and take our rights

I swear

The media called it the Arab Spring they aint seen nothing yet

Coz without a free Palestine, we won’t let them rest

I don’t use the term freedom in jest

Because it’s not a laughing matter

We’re seeing us go backwards and the higher ups enjoy the platters

while the refugees and minorities scatter

Because these military forces from armies to police

Hunting the black in America and the Arab in the Middle East

combat us then complain when we combat them

This a dangerous world but the voiceless will always win


palestinian-children-suffering images-5images-2uprooting-olive-tree Ethnically_Cleansing_Palestine images-3 nelson_mandela_palestinians_460images-4

Posted in Islam, Life, Peace, Poetry, Religion


That’s just my luck.

Getting stuck behind a person walking slow

Stuck on a train

Stranded in the rain

Last in line

can’t hear my voice

can’t see my waving hand

can’t see my face in the crowd

that’s just my luck

or is it…

my personal blessing sent from Allah

Getting stuck behind a person so you don’t get hit by the car

Stuck on the train so you don’t

get caught in the rain

Caught in the rain so you can be the one to pray

for the rain brings blessing and du’ah gets accepted

can’t hear my voice because it’s part of my awrah

can’t see my waving hand,

because my next idea will be better

can’t see my face in the crowd

because He lowered my gaze to the ground

that’s just some of my blessings



“And He gave you from all that you asked from Him, and if you count the blessings of Allah, never will you be able to count them” Surah Ibraheem Verse 34 [14:34]

“You possess a diamond called Islam, don’t hide it away share the light of it with others”–Sheikh Anwar al Awlaki

Posted in Islam, Poetry, Religion, Unspoken spoken word

The Note

It will break my heart

the heart that is now losing its beat for life

to know that you smiled or laughed

whilst I was being crushed inside of my cloth

-but that would be selfish of me

to not allow you to move on

so I must sit and wonder for a new wish

a lasting wish

that would be gratuitous

or generous

a lasting wish for yourself, no, for me

but for me I ask for your prayers

not tears

unless in anguish

thinking of your own torment

that awaits

if you do not take heed

-so take heed

I plead with you

take heed

for when this time comes

and the cloth is spun

around your privates

around your legs

the ones you once proudly walked with

those feet you stood your ground on

that strong torso that carried the weight of your pain

those shoulders that nestled others problems

and then those hands that have been wrapped already

that try to stop the cloth strangling your mouth and your nose and your eyes

those eyes that could not see the signs that were there

when this time comes

you will be able to see

a light

a light that you welcome

because you know you took heed

you saw the signs

and you acted

walking swiftly towards your Lord

you took heed

and now as you are lifted and lowered

you smile with your index finger of your right hand raised

as the soft ground lets you rest

awaiting your kingdom that has been promised to you


Posted in Life, Poetry, Religion

Mercy to Me

Her world was spinning, but she stood grounded, head bowed, grateful to her Lord.

She bowed some more, following the steps that would lead her to heaven’s door.

Then stood again, felt peace flow down her spinal chord

Then to the floor, she was the closest to Him, for sure.


Her prayers saw tears fall down her cheek Slowly making it known

That the heart is softened

With every praise or utterance

Through tears his mercy is shown


He shows you things you did not dare dream

He awakens in you the truth

He has shown you things before this day

but your mind was travelling aloof


Whether he reveal to you science, nature or feelings

Your soul is now awakened

So do not dare, transgress my dear

Back to the feet of Satan