Talk is cheap?

What is in a word, I often ask myself, just what does a word mean or signify. I learnt from the wise, words were those which when flowed from the heart, reached the receiving heart. But words, which had no real meaning, flowed from the mouth but went straight out the receiving ear, had no worth. Such wise words I contemplated, everyone deserved integrity and words of perfection.
Yet, somewhere along the path the receiving end thinks it has no meaning, how do you tell them words all you have/had to take their breath away, but only if they awaited and implored the metaphors of each word? Or words were not well formulated or profound, hence the cause of such confusion, worse yet, talk is cheap?

Fortress...

So long it took.

After so much had happened, was built with perfection, no hidden gaps, it was a world of its own. Was not going to open the gate, could not face building yet another, how can you when you train yourself after so long? Can you imagine the anxiety of it all?

~

Adore for humanity, I opened the gates.
The guard was concealed, but it was ideal to let them enter, to feel warmth amid the coldness of the world outside. Wanted them to feel at ease, my world was to be their haven. No pain was to touch them; they were to be guarded by love of tranquillity and perfection as it can be.

~

Humanity does not care about amity does it?
It was shattered by a touch of a butterfly, the guard was riven, is there any justice in the world? Why give so much yet get nothing in return? The human heart is good; the human heart is bad, only if that guard is broken, period.

~

I guess this heart needs to be better disciplined? Perhaps humanity no longer exists?
What dishonour, the radiance of ones heart clouded, by the touch of a butterfly.

~ Talk is cheap...

Contradictions!!!!!!!!!

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/middle_east/6584661.stm

Muslim ladies were the most 'oppressesd' werent they?

'heavily pregnant wives or spouses struggling with prams and pushchairs to fend for themselves as they and all other male passengers got on at the front of the bus.
Women moved towards the rear door to get on at the back'.

oh dear me....

Stranger...

The pebbled street of wonder, dark sky glowing, air a scent of warmth and breeze, if you listen carefully, there are whisperings…

They all gaze at this stranger, walking on their own, where they are going, no one can tell, perhaps the whisperings are their guide…

Smiling, this stranger wipes a tear from their cheeks, what goes through their heart, and mind, which can tell; maybe it’s the whisperings…

Talking, amused, writing [did wonder what it was] they glow, yet suddenly, melancholy clouts their face, perhaps it’s the whispering…

Have you wondered what goes in that stranger’s heart down the pebbled street of wonder?

Yearning...

Why do I abscond You, and then miss Your presence?
Faced by affliction, and ache I seek for Your compassion, why am I so selfish?
Your eternal existences, Your forever love, why do I yearn yet fail to give You that love that destroys my inner being?
So alone, yet Your majestic quality is my fortress of completion, yet why do I seek solace in lonesome?
How do I embed my love for You my lord, how do I put a stop to what nourishes me that which also annihilates me?

Pearls...

She admires as they fall from above, raindrops, pearl drops. So clear, natural.
She craves to be like them pearls, serene and pure, glistening earth with freshness of nature’s natural blessings.
The freshness she inhales, it purifies her deep, so deep she is awakened, cleansed.
The aroma of pearls with grass, water lilies nearby, awaken her the unborn child pure, natural, so beatific in its make.
Pearls trickle down her hair, massaging into the strands of her long, curly hair. On to her face, her nose, caressing her mouth like touch of a fingertip silky...

The pearls smooth, cool with inimitable touch of warmth as it memorises the texture of her face.
She catches her breath, pearls sliding down her throat, a tongue.

Down, down places of mystery.
Wet grass she lays, waterfall near her ears, running like stream made of honey complete pureness in paradise…
White she sees above, down, down the pearls fall…

Leaves...

Consumed in the tangles of thorn, the frost of winter bit into me like iced stiletto. I failed to see the reds of petal in my horizon, luminous, tranquil and sincere. Walking and kicking all that came my way, I failed to notice the green leaf of life under the shattered and withered leaves of winter. Where the newborn leaf had come from, I did not know. It was miracle, a sign of hope, for what I relished, yet I could not touch. I am living, I always have, and the leaves are green, brown, and red.

You live amongst the leaves, maybe one day you will surface from the veils of your fortress,

the thorns may stop pricking...

Dark Irony...

Your smile, Your more than real. The sun is searing through Your face, I see what no one else can see.
Your love is more than intimacy, I feel you concealed in my breath and blood, You set me on violent inferno.
Your melodious voice, ringing in my ears, piano gliding through the naked air, I can hear You, no one else can.

I am walking, floating, Your walking beside me, I can feel Your love I can feel Your presence. It’s all slowly waning, come lets fulfil this love, Your union I am feeling…

Irony….

Whirling heart...

Twirling round and around…………..where am I going?
I am merry my heart is crying………..why am I so outlandish?

It’s a feeling you cannot comprehend! Something just isn’t right!

My heart is a little adverse…………why does it battle against me?
My mind is determined……………why don’t I listen to it?

It’s a feeling you cannot comprehend! Something just isn’t right!

I cannot understand myself……….. Am I deceptive against myself?
My heart is modestly good………I am my channel, where are you?

It’s a feeling you cannot comprehend! Something just isn’t right!

By Az....

'Rejoice friends, my heart has found solice! I neither look left nor right, but up and find my Sun smiling back at me!'

Sun = Sunni [me nickname]

Vwah Az! ;)

Memories of my shadow...

What engulfs my heart, wherever I go, wherever I conceal, it haunts me…
Under the luminous dark silk of night, I stare, I marvel, I breathe, it haunts me…

What has it made me?

The memories flash; images appear, faded, yet real, drowning me, it haunts me…
The scent so surreal, compulsive, I cannot breath, it haunts me…

What has it made me?

Day after day it travels with me like shadow, consuming me…
Its memories are overwhelming me…

It haunts me…

Ajnabee

Deep melancholic yet sweet eyes that always appeared distracted.

For he saw the world in a different shade to everyone else.

His hands often trembled for no reason

and his fingers twitched in search of what...?

His mouth would suddenly open into a wide,

infectious smile and then just as suddenly fall into misery...?

He was reflecting his heart, loud,

quiet, sweet yet burning!

He was quite unlike others he was intense, a vast whirlpool of thoughts...

Consolable...?

Beloved...

Oh Beloved,take me.

Liberate my soul. Fill me with your love and release me from the two worlds.

If I set my heart on anything but you let fire burn me from inside.

Oh Beloved, take away what I want.

Take away what I do. Take away what I need.

Take away everything that takes me from you.

~ Rumi

Can feel the intensity of this poem...moves the soul in a fire of rage and ecstacy for the Beloved!

Soul....

Say not, "I have found the truth," but rather, "I have found a truth." Say not, "I have found the path of the soul." Say rather, "I have met the soul walking upon my path." For the soul walks upon all paths. The soul walks not upon a line, neither does it grow like a reed. The soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of countless petals.

~Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet, 1923

seek so much in hope this soul ignites...tis endless...

Hijab

If i knew the significance of the hijab i would have adopted it from my early years of growing up, if i knew the essence of its beauty i would have taught my sisters of Islam....

The Hijab....

Her long, curly, shiny black hair Fell against her back. Her rich, copper skin Gleamed in the sunlight.
Her slender figure outlined, With her soft voluptuous curves. But when she stepped outside, She became a ghostly figure of the night.
Nothing more to the people Than a dark, shadowy figure of oppression.
But she showed them. As she walked down the street, People made way, Men lowered their gazes in utmost respect.
And others whispered, As she held her head up high, With pride in her belief And showed them how oppressed she really was! Or was she?
While they whistled at their women, Looking them up and down, were they animals at a zoo? She pitied their jahil ways.
She entered her haven, there awaiting was the one man who could see her in halal matrimony,
she was his angel,
she was his wife...