The easiest way to put it, is that I want to be saved.

The easiest way to put it,
is that I want to be saved.

I believe we lie to ourselves,
everyone is waiting for reassurance,
a promise that there is better awaiting.

Everyone thinks they’re worthy of prophecy,
redemption by default.
Ah that lurking thing!
That hovers between our sides, that aches and moans for conviction,
we’re sentenced into madness.

But she waits for no one,
she’s poetry,
and she never has to write a word,
speechless servitude,
graceful and clear,
tunnel visioned,
loyal to her cause.

I’ve seen women drown in prose,
who wear fire on their eyelids,
and they’re hardly the soul you’d want by your side,
and others mute,
hiding behind a veil of concern and courtesy,
and you’d never know who they are.

Choke on your mind,
gag on your ability to put another man down,
feed that insatiable self until gluttony is so habitual,
it’s inevitable you’ll be the only one,
left to your wit and mock,
the lonely laughing stock.

 W.E.
#happyvalentines

feminist delusions

Whenever I hear a female say such a thing,
I about face.
I know, for a fact, with total surety,
she’s a bad woman.

If you have good in you,
you know there is good in others.
It’s as simple as that.

Dilute it,
cut it,
carve it,
mix it,
contort it
and philosophise,
whichever way you like,
it remains,
as simple as that.

W.E.

I’m tired of listening to garbage women be cheer leadered on by other garbage women whenever they regurgitate these bland mantras like as if Moses came down from the mountain and revealed divine scripture to her.

Women, perhaps hard done by with a bad man who then take it upon themselves to muster support through social circles by writing off half of humanity.

Guess what?
We’re someone’s son, someone’s brother, someone’s father. Take your shit attitude and remain with your shit people and leave the goodness to us, we don’t want you in our social, familial, cultural or spiritual circles anyway. Otherwise, grow up, try and develop and become a great person, irrespective of the cards you’ve been dealt.

W.E.

“VERILY, for all men and women who have surrendered themselves unto God, and all believing men and believing women, and all truly devout men and truly devout women, and all men and women who are true to their word, and all men and women who are patient in adversity, and all men and women who humble themselves [before God], and all men and women who give in charity, and all self-denying men and self-denying women, 38  and all men and women who are mindful of their chastity, and all men and women who remember God unceasingly: for [all of] them has God readied forgiveness of sins and a mighty reward”

Quran 33:35

*38 Guarding ones private parts

To be clear, the quote was from the song ‘You should love, what you know of me’ -Johnny Bang Reilly

Dear feminism

uzo6

I was wondering where in your confines,
my wife’s spirituality fits,
where her chastity sits,
if at all within your boundaries,
can her need to be free from men and women,
she can exist.

Will her devotion,
you permit,
will her night vigils and devotions,
you allow to be moonlit,
what of her veil, her shroud,
or is it attire you’d omit?

Ahh, her feminism,
for you stops at her outfit,
for you, even for her, unfit.

A word of her spirituality,
she can’t transmit.

Nay, your feminism,
is laced with prejudice,
and is pseudo-liberation,
white only, Holy writ.

-Wesam El dahabi

#justcurious as to how inclusive your mantras are,
if a woman content in her devotions,
liberated in her submission,
to her creator her orientation,
in complete volition,
has a divine addiction,
and is enshrined in her tradition,
she chooses to be abandoned,
from your pop culture couture versions,
devotes to her husband through choice,
would she still be deemed a free woman,
even though neither her husband,
her son, her father or brother has reigns over her,
would you still hold her and embrace her as woman as you?

Believe it or not,
not everyone wants your version.
So don’t be surprised if POC have aversions.

Image by david uzochukwu

Feminist as fuck

feminsim

Feminism,
is the village grandmother,
who wakes while her husband snores,
walks through fog and mist,
air dense with the moisture of responsibility,
with a dash of cedar.

To pick parsley,
from the seedlings her great grandmother planted on soil of prophets,
lift a hen for its egg, without waking it,
has shoulders muscle thick, carrying pails of water,
to be the early bird that gets the worm,
and the hand of love mending a breakfast for her family.

We’ve known feminism for centuries in Lebanon,
it’s nameless,
but every man, woman and child dare not question it,
and we laugh at this mockery of delusion,
the pretenders of the west have paraded as being their liberation.

Try and explain your frivolous banter,
to a woman whose hands are callused,
vice griped forearms and calves as thick as tree trunks,
that she is oppressed,
and if her eyes don’t pierce you,
her palm will shatter your jaw,
aptly known as a Kaf,
or Tayta.

And the silent mothers and grandmothers worldwide smile at your youthful zeal to identify,
to find meaning in your life,
but they continue being feminist as fuck by doing, not talking.

So my dear sister with grandeur in her mind,
that the woman sitting in a desk chair writing you what everything that feminism is,
is every silent woman’s bitch.

Make no mistake, this man,
wants nothing to do with defining this feminism parade,
I’m just calling what I see,
a spade, a spade.

Don’t be misled,
by what pretends to bleed,
feminism, is under the nails of our grandmothers,
not at your fingertips.

W.E.

Inspired by a picture I saw on the feed of @pencilfulloflead (handle on instagram) and reminded me of the many grandmothers I’ve met. Love to see anyone try and teach them what feminism is. You’d cop a swift back hander with so much love she’d make you long for another.

not feminism

not-feminism

not feminism

once upon a time
newborn girls were buried alive
out of shame

the world hasn’t changed
now we have no shame
we just extend the funeral procession
and women are walking dead

W.E.

Prior to Islam being established amongst the Arabs, Pagans, Christians, Jews and the like of the era would bury their female newborn alive.

A social norm, a collectively accepted and unquestioned custom.
At the outset of Islam, it abolished many social and cultural traits that were deemed inhumane, unjust and unlawful according to divine laws as prior espoused or by new dictates.

Women were to be offered rights the world had not seen or heard of,  seen in the light that they should be seen, the mothers of humanity, the only womb carriers, the only child bearers, in essence, the only warmth of mercy that can extend love appropriately to suckle humankind into social and spiritual cohesion.

This wave of beauty wouldn’t last long before men, being men do what they do and exhorting their social, political and physical dominance, interpreting texts and mandates as they see fit to suit their agendas and forcing a social oppression on the development of women.

Occasionally, a woman of grandeur would slip between the cracks of normality and society would see brilliance, mercy, beauty, kindness that was missing. Like a bosom engorging once again with milk that we all need to drink from after such a long pang of thirst from the origin of where we came from.

Such a woman, whether by force, or by the inability of the world to counter such beauty and mercy or whether it be by the utter mercy God may have protected her with comes and goes but they are looked at with marvel and disbelief. Heralded as saviours with utter ignorance of the perpetual miracles that take place daily in pregnancy, child birth and rearing amongst other meaningful and important things, albeit these things alone, placing her far above the achievements of men.

We now have male created industries of band aid solutions, with labels and slots conveniently appropriated, but otherwise monitored and manicured by men. Industries misleading women into a false ideal that they need to be represented by a silly label to be someone.

Well, it drains me, it literally anchors the soul of my existence to drudgery to have to constantly explain to both males and females alike, that not a soul possesses the right to oppress another soul, irrespective of gender.

In the context of the above, males reserve no right to hold women hostage, thus extending this pre-islamic cultural barbarity, spreading it beyond the pales of just ignorant Arab circles to the Colosseum of human fibre, to every nationality, religion and culture. Males, not religions, males, forcing their way on to women, entrenching our social narrative to appear on the surface with such labels as being pro-women, but in reality, still a cover of soil ready in their hands, to bury women’s voices, their opinions, their actions and their souls under the ground of our ignorance.

As such, my daughter does whatever my sons do. She will have to choose her path when I die and I would rather her raising her hands in litanies of hope for forgiveness and mercy for her father than calling upon Gods curse for the stifling I may have incurred.

I want no part of a male narrative ready to spit back into the womb that bore them. Ingrates, nothing more! There is nothing uglier than a man who will not acknowledge truth except on equal measure a woman that reinforces it or takes his words to be by default superior.

Superiority is through truth and action not gender and as Moses implored his Lord, I pray it manifests even if on my enemies tongue. I care not for the source as long as it is made manifest, truth after all is genderless, ironically why one of the meanings of the word Kufr is ‘covering’, in this context, a covering over truth.

It is knowing well in the pits of you the answer but choosing to intellectualise or philosophise against it for the establishment of nothing more than egotistical dominance.

W.E.

Some people get it. Great talk

My sister from another Mr.

Elucidation on point! No need to fancy it up, this girl gets it!

Language, presentation and model example, perfect.

If you’re honest, she’ll make you peel your skin.

from here: http://www.ted.com/talks/yassmin_abdel_magied_what_does_my_headscarf_mean_to_you#t-833690