Khalid Mukhtar

Word, like wind, cuts through you / Withers all but true you

Khalid Mukhtar

Staring

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I'm on my back, and staring into space
And though my eyes seem vacant, they are filled
With broken spirits from another place
Where mothers watch their children being killed.
It doesn't matter who the killers are,
It doesn't matter who the bleeding be,
What matters is that although I am far,
I feel the dark effect it has on me.
For laying frozen on my bed, I stare
As if each passing second is my toil
Against this grave oppression laying bare
My shallow games of empathy that spoil
An evening of laughter, games and fun,
And lists of silly things that must be done.

Upset

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A wrinkled brow and silence
Portend a storm of frowns
That scale cereal boxes
To smite unpoffered excuses.

Only time makes peace

Classical Poetry Lives

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I was at the Rivulets 2015 Launch event earlier this afternoon. The Chicago Tribune covered it:
http://www.chicagotribune.com/suburbs/naperville-sun/community/chi-ugc-article-naperville-writers-group-rivulets-27-launch-2015-10-01-story.html

I was asked to recite one of my submissions – On Riverside Walks, and that I did.

I also learned I was one of the four runners-up to the Founder’s Prize for Poetry for my submission, On Forgetting To Remember. And that was cool.

Given the above were both sonnets, I am happy to say <insert post title here>.

A good day overall.

The Sands, The Trees, The Gentle Breeze

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(Narrator)
Upon a little patch of earth
Beside the Masjid an-Nabi
There blew a warm and gentle breeze
Upon the sands, and date palm trees.

(Tree 1)
It was just yesterday that he
Reclined on me so peacefully.
I long to feel his blessed touch
Againt my trunk; I miss that much.

(Tree 2)
I understand your pain, my friend,
For I remember that day when
He played with his little Hussain
Despite the softly falling rain;

Around and round me did he run
So playfully with Ali’s son,
I hoped they would not leave my side,
But then they did, and how I cried.

(Tree 1)
Oh yes, indeed. I do recall
That day when all that rain did fall.

(The Earth)
I long for his mubarak feet
To walk upon my every street;
I love him and his every trace
In me and in my every space.

(The Wind)
And when he speaks or breathes a word,
It is the sweetest thing you heard;
I carry all his blessed speech
To everyone within my reach.

(Tree 1, whispering)
Quiet! Here he comes again.

(Tree 2, whispering)
SubhanAllah.

(The Earth, whispering)
AlhamdulilLah.

(The Wind, whispering)
Allahu Akbar.

(Narrator)
And so they rustled, shifted, blew
Until the Prophet was with them.

(Tree 1, Tree 2, The Earth, The Wind, all say together)
SallAllahu ‘alaa Muhammad
SallAllahu ‘alayhi wa sallam.

SallAllahu ‘alaa Muhammad
SallAllahu ‘alayhi wa sallam.

SallAllahu ‘alaa Muhammad
SallAllahu ‘alayhi wa sallam.

(End.)

Ajwah

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My Lord, send forth Your Prayers and Peace
And Blessings on those hands
That pressed the saplings of release
Into submitting sands,

And like the spring abundant flowed
Beneath his father’s heel,
You’ve blessed these palms that his palms sowed;
This son of Isma’eel

And all of matter he did touch,
And all that he did say,
Proclaim the highest Truth with such
Serenity, I pray:

My Lord, increase the ones who tend,
And buy and sell and touch
The ajwah palms that well extend
The fruit we love so much;

My Lord, increase my host who gives
Me so much from his share
Of barakah that lives and lives
As long as you declare.

I Don’t Care

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Do you think it fair to say I may care
When I care enough to say: “I do not care.”

I think it depends on how I may say it,
With distance in tone or rebellious gait,

An arching of eyebrows, a smile forged in hell,
Or the weight of the world in the sighs I expel.

I hereby do gather the silence you spare
Is loud confirmation that you do not care.