POETRY CORNER
Unless otherwise indicated, these lines were penned
by El-Hajj Hisham Mahmoud.
THE SWASTIKA OF DAVID
THE SWASTIKA OF DAVID
Jerusalem, Killer of Prophets
Crucified its own Messiah
Turned Zion into an -ism
And Ishmael into a pariah
They took Jacob’s name in vain
And trample Solomon’s Temple
Traitors of a solemn covenant
Cast Joseph back into the well
While Moses was in communion
They milked the golden calf
Commandments on shattered tablets
Sheepish snakes defy his staff
Crocodile wailing at the partition wall
Crying wolf in mock peace talks
Goliath has the right to defend himself
Against David’s little rocks
Rockets, bombs, white phosphorous
Murder is the sniper’s hobby
And AIPAC taxes your dollars
To buy men in the halls of a lobby
Little girls write their names
On missiles sent, “With love”
Mothers write the names of little girls
To identify their limbs from above
But under the rubble of shattered dreams
Are the remains of Palestine’s grit
Her enemy has lost its soul
In trying to break her spirit
Yet God’s chosen are redeemed
When they realize that we’re all fam’
When the chosen, the Children of Israel
Become the Children of Abraham
When Ishmael and Isaac break bread
When Berlin’s wall is no more
When Mandela is championed in Israel
When David reclaims his star
RECONQUISTA
RECONQUISTA
by Ustādh Saad Omar
Echoes from the temple,
The camel rider’s song is gone.
The clock has cast its shadow,
Darkness marks the rise of dawn.
Hajar’s secret is forgotten,
Abd al-Muttalib still prays for sons.
But the men of Hijaz have fallen,
And the armies of Abraha return.
Persia’s fire is rekindled,
Lat and Uzza have found a new kingdom.
But Attar’s birds have no target,
The elephants are dressed like pilgrims.
The streets of Taif are rejoicing,
Planning revenge and gathering stones,
Abraham has fathered Azar
Old spirits rise in new forms.
Once a king chose to be a slave,
And roses adorned his way.
Now slaves dressed like kings,
Plant thorns to mark his grave.
BETWEEN THE SĪRAH AND THE SHAMĀ’IL
The sīrah grounds us
in his terrestrial resplendence
for every time and place,
while the shamā’il crowns us
with his celestial transcendence
beyond time and space.
The sīrah chronicles his stride,
while the shamā’il portrays his glide.
صلى الله عليه وآله وسلم
AN ODE TO WADI RUMM
Sands of silk swallow the sinner’s steps
Against a rock mountain there to climb
Once pierced by the rainbow’s rays of glass
Whose hues God etched with the chisel of Time
The Vizier peers out from his Mount at Petra
The Baptizer redeems souls to inherit
Paving two roads that reach for Mecca
As heralds of the Law and the Spirit
Sands of silk swallow the sinner’s steps
Against a rock mountain there to climb
Once pierced by the rainbow’s rays of glass
Whose hues God etched with the chisel of Time
The Messenger’s messenger slain to rest
Love’s beloved, the first flag-bearer
Ja`far takes flight from Mu’tah’s nest
No one to eulogize the poet-warrior
Sands of silk swallow the sinner’s steps
Against a rock mountain there to climb
Once pierced by the rainbow’s rays of glass
Whose hues God etched with the chisel of Time
From the Cave of Lot to his salty wife
The Dead Sea suckles the River Jordan
Come let us die neath the Tree of Life
Dream our way straight into Heaven
Sands of silk swallow the sinner’s steps
Against a rock mountain there to climb
Once pierced by the rainbow’s rays of glass
Whose hues God etched with the chisel of Time
The darkest skies kindle the brightest stars
The lowest valleys erect the highest mountain
And though one’s sins may leave him with scars
They usher to Muhammad’s fountains
Sands of silk swallow the sinner’s steps
Against a rock mountain there to climb
Once pierced by the rainbow’s rays of glass
Whose hues God etched with the chisel of Time
The Vizier is Aaron, the brother of Moses, buried at Petra.
The Baptizer is John.
The Law is Moses.
The Spirit is Jesus.
The Messenger’s messenger ﷺ was al-Ḥārith b. ʿUmayr al-Azdī, who was sent by the Messenger ﷺ to call to the oneness of God. When the Ghassanid governor beheaded him, the Prophet ﷺ sent an army of 3,000 men, and they fought and were defeated at the Battle of Mu’tah.
The beloved is Zayd b. al-Ḥārithah, once the adopted son of the Prophet ﷺ. He was the first standard bearer in the Battle of Mu’tah.
Jaʿfar b. Abī Ṭālib, al-Ṭayyār, the Prophet’s cousin ﷺ, was promised wings in Paradise to fly wherever he so willed for losing both arms at Mu’tah. He was the second standard bearer in the Battle of Mu’tah.
The poet-warrior is ‘Abd Allāh b. Rawāḥah, one of the Prophet’s poets ﷺ who would praise him in verse. He was the third standard bearer in the Battle of Mu’tah.
The Tree of Life is shajarat al-baqīʿāwiyyah, said to have been the tree under which the Prophet ﷺ rested while on a trade expedition with his uncle, Abū Ṭālib, whereat he met with the Christian monk Buḥayrah. If true, then it is the only living creature to have witnessed the Prophet ﷺ.
All sites mentioned in this ode are in Jordan.
POETREE
The ancients called her the Tree of Life
A fusion of water, light, and air
Under whose shade Adam found his wife
Where Iblis told the lie of despair
This was where they drew first breath
From the fragrant leaves of a tree
“If you eat its fruit, you’ll never taste death,
I promise immortality!”
Sent down to Earth with a plow as staff
Behold, God’s caliph descends
The whisperer withdraws with a sinister laugh
Mortal enemies now friends
These trees and their oceans are the pens and the ink
That spell God’s words with eloquence
Deforestation and the garbage won’t sink
The unlettered bliss of ignorance
Trees once rejoiced with the advent of truth
At the foot of a Meccan cave
“Peace, O Prophet!” and that was his proof
Their leaves blushed red as they waved
Light squinted under the light above
The moon napped beneath the sun
A tree tread a path of ardent love
Its shadow embraced the blessed one
A tree was consoled before it was buried
He swore to replant her in heaven
He knew just the place, for he’d been carried
By Abraham’s steed through all seven
Jibril would burn, Ahmad was granted entrance
No chance for Lucifer’s trickery
But he could only enter the divine presence
Through the Lote Tree of the Utmost Periphery
AM I MY BROTHER’S KEEPER?
They used to make excuses and say,
“Even the best horses can fall to the ground.”
But oh, how ready are my “brothers” today,
To beat a horse when he’s down.
THE BOOK OF GOD
In the lucidity of a solemn silence,
A light from Allah to save
Adam’s progeny from their own infraction
A visitor descends upon the cave
A powerful night for all to behold
An offer made to an ailing kind
Promising victory to those who aspire
While granting vision to the blind
Imagine! The very speech of God
To engage the whispers of my soul
No more would I befriend despair
To live for Him, no other goal
Giving news of an eternal bliss
For the sincere, indeed, quite soon
And warning all of the inevitable Day
laʿallakum taʿqilūn
A book that sailed on the crest of time
Through the bloody sea of forgotten martyrs
Now sits comfortably on a dusty shelf
A deluded people, what a foolish barter!
But the one whose heart celebrates His wisdom
Shall ascend through and to a new dimension
With tireless wings shall he fly the journey
Only to stop at his tongue’s recollection
And on the Day that is its own
His Book comes forth with all of splendor
To intercede for the best of servants
Divorcing the honest from the pretender
A man was asked about the cycles
By which his tongue scrolled through the chapters,
A different response for day and evening
Even within and aside from prayers
And then there was the pious woman
Who Ibn al-Mubārak through to marry
She swore not to speak a word of her own
The Qur’an, alone, her tongue did carry
Sill, where do you stand with Allah, the Sublime?
Preferring singers with their corrupted views
To al-Ḥakīm’s very uttered words
Each letter by ten, so wisely choose
Illuminate your homes with everlasting light
As the angels gather throughout the place
Each of them listening with all due attention
As the Panasonic plays Sudays
And if it is that you are true
And that you love your Lord, so dear
Then why I ask, do you read His book
But just one month out of every year?
So for those of you who wish to speak
To al-ḥaqq, al-karīm, yes al-wadūd
Sever, then, yourself from all distraction
And appeal for His presence in your sujūd
And should you desire His personal address
The Lord of the Throne addressing you
Then wipe off the dust from His heavenly book
And sit by yourself before fajr is due
ROSALES
Beauty beckoned us to Rosales, Spain
With the tongue of Jesus whom they thought to have slain
Her light pierced all the mental fog
Shined white on the teeth of the carcass of a dog
It was indescribable in the musings of Moses
But its redolence flourished in eastern roses
It spends every night as laylat al-qadr
And greets every person as sayyidunā al-khiḍr
In the subtle awareness of the spirit it abides
In the well-pleased soul and the one that chides
In the armor of objectivity you’ll find it clad
Guiding the march of a lifelong Jihad
It versified lines of somatic eloquence
As a poem to remember with the fullest presence
It’s in our first memories like the traces of a dream
It is the prescription of Dr. Hakim
It’s in the architecture of an anti-tectonic discourse
With a soft eloquence citing wisdom as its source
It’s in the subdued voice of this gracious nobleman
Allah! A thousand more like Sir Lahham
It reflects in the lion of Dr ‘Umar’s face!
With Truth’s imperative and with Virtue’s grace
Jamāl in the cloak of jalāl, don’t you see
Its urgency firmly squeezing the knee
Beauty drew forward and kissed my hands
Gifting me an hourglass of Gambian sands
With a glance of mercy and with words unsaid
When rendered in letters, they call to Muhammad
وأجمل منك لم تر قط عيني | وأكرم منك لم تلد النساء
خلقت مبرأ من كل عيب | كأنك قد خلقت كما تشاء
No man quite as splendid have I ever eyed
No woman ever birthed one more dignified
You were created without a single blemish
As though fashioned according to your wish
MEDIOCRITY
I reminisce upon a time
Before 800 million partook
In bleeding their lives online
Before the i-phone and before Facebook
They called me J-DA for my jumpshot
I was muscle bound 4 days a week
Ran track on days humid and hot
Though by my grades you’d think me a geek
And skiing Big Bear without a fear
The funnest memories with friends and pals
A call or visit kept them near
And chillin’ with mom in 36 malls
But then came pagers and after that cell phones
Internet followed and with it email
Handhelds and palms and silly ringtones
Then laptops with dialup through AOL
Netscape and Hotmail, Yahoo! for Google
Twitter and Facebook, now everyone’s plugged
Virtual relationships and the cost not frugal
I’ll give you a poke instead of that hug
I’ll send you an app instead of that gift
And write on your wall instead of that call
An e-life of existence of meaning bereft
Consumed in a world that’s virtual
I’ll update my status instead of dialing
Leave a comment and like whatever you post
I’ll send you a smiley without really smiling
Click your Youtube link, cool, but gross
So fast forward to years later now
And nearing 1000 friends
How do half of you even know me, how!
Countless photos tagged to no end
But now as I wait for the next email in
I cannot help but anguish
Whatever happened to my 3rd grade violin
To learning Urdu, Chinese, and Spanish
And what about this diminishing body
And volunteering at Juvi hall
Whatever happened to this or that hobby
It’s time to spring now, after my fall
The Arabs called the face ṣaḥīfah
Because the face reflects one’s Book of Deeds
And whether one lived as a believer
Or preferred his whims over his needs
So take hold of your life, it’s already too late
Switch monitor for mirror and take a long look
Mediocrity just might become your fate
The time is now to face your book!
PILGRIMAGE
قف بالمنازل والمناهل من لدن وادي قباء إلى حمى أم القرى
وتوخ آثار النبي فضع بها متشرفاً خديك في عفر الثرى
Stop at every sojourn and oasis
From the Valley of Quba’ to Mecca’s sacred places
Pursue there the Prophet’s noble traces
And with its dust anoint thy faces!
—Qāḍī Ibn Daqīq al-ʿĪd
AN ATTEMPT AT MODERN POETRY
The sea!
A decorated shore of seashells…
The breeze.
A faint whisper from wave to wave:
“Listen woman! You must consider lowering your prices.
You must consider lowering your prices.”
