MY LOVE TO YOU

O my comrades, friends and allies!
Here I come your path again.
I still have this huge soulful hug.
Definitely, my bag of smiles is full as well.
I am yet happy that upon you I call again.

My heart greets your heart.
My mind has not been able to forget you.
As my words defy my yearning for secrecy.
So then let me tell you about today.

O body of my comrades, friends and allies!
Borrow me these minds and hearts for just a while.
With them I would love to have a talk.
Yes! It shall be brief and straight too.

Listen to me you who have ears.
Watch you bearers of eyes.
And if you can smell this that is good also.

The old man walked extremely slowly in difficulty today.
That lady is so sick she cannot utter a word now.
That rich man now begs by the streets.

Are you with me o you!
Pay attention to each of my words.
Listen, watch, smell and feel as much as you can.
Up and down she goes for time is no more her pal
And wait...just wait...wait just a little more...
He died! He did! He finally did die!

Perhaps I should stop or may be go forever on with my tales.
For what has been said have been said.
What will be said are many and yet to come

O body of my comrades, friends and allies!
Take you back your minds and hearts.
For my talk with them suddenly has ended.
Were they to think, reflect and ponder!
That I wish, pray and hope.
For life is a miracle and a parable to unravel

Make a choice whilst my gratitude to you I show.
O my comrades, friends and allies!
This is indeed my love to you which I show.

RMRS (Muharram, 1436)
www.rubabawords.blogspot.com

The Stars

Talking about stars

The ones we call celebrities

Talking about people worth walking the red carpet

The people who bring Goosebumps to our skin

Talking about men and women of true fame

And what are these names I hear?

The names of people who do these acts

The people who walk these miles

The names of people who talk these stuffs

What are these names I hear?

Why can’t I see the glittering of their glow?

Why am I not seeing the flames of their fame?

Why are my Goosebumps not giggling?

Why is my heart not exhilarated in excitement?

Why am I unable to feel the penchant of their presence?

Subhaanallaah! Subhaanallaah! Subhaanallaah!

No! They are not my stars

Yes! Those names which you mention

And I do not wish even to mention their names also

Subhaanallaah! Subhaanallaah! Subhaanallaah!

They are not my men and women of fame

So let me tell you about those who have won this heart

Men and women whose famous flames I still feel

Yes, so many are long gone and so many still live

They who teach me this life and this death

The companions of the best of men and them who follow suit

RMRS (Muharram, 1436)

www.rubabawords.blogspot.com

THEY LIVED

They walked this world
They danced these songs
They wore these clothes
They wrote these words
They smiled this happiness
They cried these tears
They swam in their time
They looked to the future
They had dreams
They made plans
They had problems
They coined solutions
They prayed
They played
They had all the haves
They did all the dos
But?
Today, they are dead
Will you and I then not take heed?
Will you and I not then choose to be wise?
Will you and I then not take advantage of now before later?
To the mind that is alive?
Something to think about!

RMRS, Muharram (1436)

To My Sister With Love

Then I thought of writing my sister the best of love letters

But no, I thought again, why not let these letters sing and dance this love

Why not put the pen and paper down and hold her hands instead?

Why not take a stroll with her through this haven?

Will she not be happy if I ride her through this sky that I love?

Can’t I make her dazed and mazed by the freshness of this river?

Put your lovely palm in mine sweet sister

Clench your fingers around mine my dear

Hold me heartily and strongly and never let go

Together we shall blaze these trails

We shall burn these flames and feel this warmth

Together we shall fan this breeze to feel its coolness

You are my sister and for that I am proud

Smile and laugh so I could see these sparkling teeth

So I could read these shining eyes

And when you want to cry do not do so in the sea

Here is my shoulder on it you can place your head

Then go ahead to wet my pretty dress even with your tears

Let me shower on you this love

Hug me tight and give me these kisses

For this love is a gift by Love Himself

Rubaba (Sept, 2014)

In Praise of Nobility (Day Twenty-Four)

That treasure of a precious pearl Fatimatu Zahra

Shall I to you tell about a woman gracious?

One who was loved by a father so dear

One whom her father loved and in detail

She cried! She wailed! She wept!

Her world was suddenly empty

The noble one out of it goes

Did the world not with her cry?

Did the world not with her wail?

Did the world not with her weep?

Did our world not suddenly empty too become?

For a man great and I mean great out of it went

Salaam and Rahma upon him should rain

That precious honourable daughter had felt pain

A poet she had suddenly become

She said with words that which her heart felt

The noble one had honoured the afterlife

Has he not to it gone?

Yet that honour to her a calamity had brought

Had this calamity unto darkness befallen

Even so the darkness will have to change colour

Such was her who her father’s status knew

He was a father, one like no other

Had he not stood so she could sit?

Had she not with his grace walked and talked?

Had Aysh to that not bore witness?

Was she not the half of him?

A man noble, lovely, beloved, loved

A man, one like no other

Salaam and Rahma upon him should rain

That lovely companion in pain sought blindness

The darkness of the eyeballs to him was better

Rasuul his eyes could see no more

Yet in his heart he kept him

Did you not hear how Umar had reacted?

The walking taqwa could not endure this loss

The weight of that death was unbearable

So he had said things and done things

His mind unprepared for the news of that kind

The noble, cherished, precious one was finally gone

He was a man, one like no other

Salaam and Rahma upon him should rain

This is the nobility about which I sing

This is the nobility I live to praise

This is the nobility whose love drunken me

This is the nobility I wish to see

This is the nobility I pray to touch

Salaam and Rahma upon him should rain

           

RMRS (July, 2014, Ramadaan Twenty-Four)

A poem each day of Ramadaan in praise of the Rasuulul Laah suallal Laahu alayhi wa sallam entitled: IN PRAISE OF NOBILITY

In Praise of Nobility (Eighteen)

Show me the humanitarians

Narrate to me their story

Let me hear their motivation

And let me tell them of a man

A man, one like no other

A man, a humanitarian by all standards

He loved and truly too

To him the poor came

With him the rich sat

The orphans in him found consolation

He was a mother to the motherless

He was a father to the fatherless

He was a brother and extraordinary too

Salaam and Rahma upon him should rain

Had great women not their children driven away?

To the rasuul of Allah they had to go

In that mothers found serenity

And who is the mother who will not this love?

That her child a companion like him had?

Show me that one if there ever was

Show me that one if there ever is

Show me that one if there ever would be

And let me show you one needing knowledge

Call to me the women of the world

Call to me the mothers of the world

Where are their sons?

Where are their daughters?

About the praised one they must learn

He was a man, amazingly awesome

He was a man, gentle, humble, soothing

Salaam and Rahma upon him should rain

Lucky is the child who about him is told

Lucky is the child who grows in his love

Lucky is the child who his Lord worships

Lucky is the child who his path treks

And then what about you?

Would you not about him learn?

Would you not about him listen?

Would you not this best soul love?

Would you not Allah worship and solely?

Would you not his path trek?

He was noble, gracious, adorable, dear

Salaam and Rahma upon him should rain

This is the nobility about which I sing

This is the nobility I live to praise

This is the nobility whose love drunken me

This is the nobility I wish to see

This is the nobility I pray to touch

Salaam and Rahma upon him should rain

           

RMRS (July, 2014, Ramadaan Eighteen)

A poem each day of Ramadaan in praise of the Rasuulul Laah suallal Laahu alayhi wa sallam entitled: IN PRAISE OF NOBILITY