Dinki Di Dawah

The musings and poetics of a revert Aussie.

Month: April, 2014

Sestina No. 1 OR Hayatul-ad-Dunya

Often lies there no patience
For the desires of this world’s
Many pleasures that we trek after,
Despite the harms they render on
Ourselves and our families as they watch,
Helpless to save the ones they love.

Yet it is in pursuit of love
We exercise more care and patience
Than we would in seeking after worlds
Of joy and ecstasy, and only after
We discover our bodies lying on
The funeral bier with none to watch

Over in vigil. For against time’s watch
We fight to live, to lie, to love
Out our own time, needing no patience
To live nothing but happy in our own worlds.
With nothing to die for in the hereafter,
Yet everything to live for here upon

This earth… How cynical and hard on
Ourselves can we be, to believe none watch
Over creation, one devoid of love
Let alone hope… Why have care or patience
When amongst all of the planets and worlds
We’d know beyond death is nothing thereafter.

Yet maybe I fooled myself even after
Believing a thing I’ve no evidence to rely upon
In any existential sense; nothing to watch
And observe for proof. So here I believe with love
In some entity I, as a Muslim, with patience
Call Rabbi-l’Aal’Ameen, Lord of the Worlds,

Whose Lordship would reign over not only this world’s
Denizens but of every planet thereafter
Imagined. Yet what could I base such thinking on
Other than moral deductions, yet while watch
Suffering worldwide in contrast to the love
And peace that others might find. Yet slowly, patience

And care we take to watch what time we’ve left in this world’s
Life and despair and love whereafter
We leave nothing thereupon but our soul’s continued patience.

© James “Abdulmalik” Randall, 2014.

PS. This poem is a reflection on the thoughts and feelings I had before I embraced Islam and became a Muslim. Written in Sestina form as a challenge to myself, I figured that it was as good a time as any to ponder my own past in a way that would branch out to the many Atheists and Agnostics among my friends, to express my own similar feelings of times past, even when my lifestyle may seem to clash with theirs. In reality, we all face the same dilemmas and trials of belief and conviction as one another at one point or another.

Term on Earth – A Villanelle

One’s end of term on earth comes oft too late
When hands of angels push souls to life’s edge,
Man’s indignant rage to no more create

Naught but accrue wealth for their estate
Worthless. Graves have no room for gold to wedge
One’s end of term on earth comes oft too late.

Fear not. The Creator will not negate
Your precious wealth. Your gold they’ll find and dredge.
Man’s indignant rage to no more create

For your dear Trust. Your legacy falls straight
To the maws of kin who can’t share nor pledge.
One’s end of term on earth comes oft too late.

Yet on we strive, never question our state,
Given the degree we’re thrust to life’s ledge
One’s end of term on earth comes oft. Too late

We are then to weigh up any good trait
We saved up, no matter what we allege.
One’s end of term on earth comes oft too late,
Man’s indignant rage to no more create.

© James “Abdulmalik” Randall, 2014.