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.


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.


“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


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


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.


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.