A PLEA TO THE MOST GENEROUS AND COMPASSIONATE:

MAY HE EASE ALL OUR TASKS
A MERCIFUL MAKE WHO GUIDE US EVEN BEFORE WE ASK

MAY HE REWARD & ELEVATE US HIGH IN RANKS
AND GRANT US IMPACTFUL WORDS IN TANKS

MAY HE ENRICH US WITH WHAT IS NOT IN BANKS
CONTENTMENT, I'M REFERRING T0, IN STACKS

YAA RABBUL IZZAH, PROTECT & MAKE US EASILY UNPACK
THE EVIL OF THE WORLD AND THE SMACK OF THE DEVIL AND HIS DELUSIONAL SPARKS

AAMIN YAA RABBUL SAMA

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Happy International Literacy Day

I'm not a poet
but a fan of bread
yha that slim guy with a beard

So allow me
to borrow a trick from an old friend
he who was among those
who helped me through the weekends

He said; please, write out of your free will
Speak: exactly how you feel
Think of your words
as a cure to the ill
or maybe
an appetizer to a meal

Remember, it’s all about adding value to oneself
not trying to please people
but know thyself
in order, to be off the shelf

And hey,
it doesn’t really have to rhyme like mine
I mean
you can also do it according to your own lines
Remember
it doesn’t truly-really have to rhyme like mine.

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I Love You Like I Write About You

I love you like I write about you
delicately, like ink kissing paper,
brilliantly, like light breaking dawn,
cautiously, like feet on fragile glass,
carefully, like a neuro surgeon in surgery

I love you seamlessly
though sometimes clumsily,
like a poet who writes “catastrophe”
but accidentally pens “cat-a-coffee.”
_It still wakes the heart, doesn’t it?_

You are my typo that feels too right to correct,
my metaphor that runs away with itself,
my sentence that doesn’t end
because love refuses full stops

Your eyes? Subuhallah two stubborn dictionaries, whenever I look at them i find meaning, even when I wasn’t searching for a word
Your laughter? A misplaced semicolon
half pause, half continuation yet somehow the perfect punctuation to my restless day

Because I love you like I write about you:
delicately, brilliantly, cautiously, carefully
yet wildly, wordfully,
with metaphors that melt, with puns that stumble, with melodies that make no sense
and yet makes perfect sense

So you see you are my story’s twist, my poem’s misprint, my rhyme’s rebellion and the line I’ll never stop rewriting.

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Make Your Bed to Break Your Chains

Nobody’s going to lift you up
if you won’t even lift your blanket.
Truth is simple:
if you can’t fight your pillow,
how will you fight your problems?

Comfort zones?
They’re like sofas that swallow you whole
Soft today, suffocating tomorrow.
You can’t Netflix your way to success,
the remote won’t remote-control your destiny

Life won’t spoon-feed you
unless it’s a spoon of reality soup,
served hot and spilling on your lap
Ouch! Now you’re awake

Doors don’t open because you stare at them, they open when you turn the knob
But if you keep knocking at nothing,
don’t blame the door but your lazy hands

So start today, brush your teeth, brush off all the excuses through lacing your shoes to chase your dues
Because no one claps for a sleeper but the world stands up
for a starter

If you help yourself help will find you,
like the way light finds it's cracks, like the way the rain finds rivers, or maybe like the way blessings find true believers

Remember:
your bed is your first battlefield & your blanket is the first enemy, for victory is waking & your crown is the the making, make that bed, make that move to be that man the world can’t ignore.

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Muhammad Al-Amin (PBUH)

They called him Al-Amin-the Trustworthy,
before the Qur’an descended, before the world knew his name would last forever

Back then in their markets crowded with lies, his word was gold, his smile a shield, his honesty is like a lamp that lit the darkest corners

I love that about him
how he felt every wound of the world, how his tears watered mercy,
how his heart held the weight of nations,
yet never broke

Even when he was mocked, stones in hand and thorns on road,
he answered with patience, with prayers that flew higher than hate.

Muhammad, Habibullah, Nabiyyallah, the one who taught us that breaking is not weakness but the opening where mercy enters

And still today,
his story reminds us:
to be human is to feel,
to trust is to heal, to follow him is to rise.

May Allah continue to guide us to the right path

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I Love That About Us

I love that about us!
How our feelings fry like plantain in a hot oil popping, sweet smell rising and never afraid of a little burn

I love that about us!
How breaking is like Lagos traffic,
chaotic, noisy and frustrating yet somehow, we still find the road home

I love that about us!
How our hearts are umbrellas, flipping inside-out in storms but still covering one another with smiles & laughter

I love that about us!
How our pain cooks jollof with joy,
how our scars season the stew and somehow every taste, even the bitter still feeds our strength.

I love that about us!

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My friends frequently smile at me, whispering, 'You're not married or why are you not Married or You should Marry! And I often replied with; Wama Tasha Una Illah An Yasha, only Allah's will prevails. For I trust His perfect clock is ticking in my favor. Which is why constantly my heart sings Alhamdulillah upon my journey: for my self-awareness bloomed, self-awakening sparked and self-improvement shines. On and off the internet, I am growing stronger, so as adding value to my work and soul. My mission glows bright, Alhamdulillah, I am trying my possible best in serving Allah, honoring my parents, guiding my young ones, and uplifting my community. Masha Allah! Marriage? It’s coming when Allah says and wills, 'Now.' He’s shaping me for the woman I am praying for.

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My Dad, My Treasure

I have a loving dad
For he's with me whenever i'm sad
Like a mother nurturing her child

He supports me every time
For he always has my time
Like a working clock in its prime

He always tries to get me what I want
But so ready to taunt
Like a pilot studying his route

I don't care even if he's old
For he would forever be my precious gold
Like a statue of an Ancient Tomb

I love him very much
And I'm not just saying such
Like a kunfu master ready to give punch

He who loves me more than sweets
For he is so ready for my treats
Like a loyal knight always ready to greets

He's my loving dad
Who never wants to see me sad
Like my maternal granddad

I have made many mistakes and crimes
But he often forgives me after some time
Like a loyal lawyer always preventing me from going jail

I have given him a lot of pain
But he never returns them back to me
Like he's built and meant to resist pain

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I knowingly....turned my eyes away from what you have done and what you'll do mistakenly, because at the end we're all element of mistakes, flaws and shortcomings both willingly and unwillingly. Which is why I built a graveyard, in other words; a cemetery. Where I graciously bury your flaws, mistakes and shortcomings; for only Almighty knows how you are coping and managing mine.

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The image of me you’ve painted in your thoughts isn’t my burden to carry. I am not the architect of your assumptions, nor the keeper of your crafted illusions. My truth shines beyond the shadows of your imagination. Release the version you’ve built and embrace the real me, flawed, authentic and free. For your mind’s creation is yours alone; my responsibility is to live my truth, unapologetically. In the final analysis; life is all about self assessment not a competition nor fear of missing out.

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