You will never get to me - A poem by Adam Deen

Woo me, tease me,

Government Grants, Loans, and bombing drones all the same Home secretary,

Dangle what you want in front of me, I know what you want from me, Compromise justice and my integrity,

House-Muslim amuse and be abused,

I will never forget what you have done to my countrymen and family.

You will never tempt me.

Hate me,

Kick me,

Label me,

Snigger and stare at me, laugh as much as you want,

Mock my modesty,

Tear may hijab from me,

Stab me 18 times mercilessly in front of a judge and jury,

My baby still cries for me,

You can never get to me,

Arrest me,

Allegation, vicitmisation , 28 days of pure humiliation,

All over the nation’s Muslim hating media industry, too much anti Muslim telegraphy,

Tom and Jerry my prophet's personality,

Feeding Muslim hate frenzy,

Hiding behind free speech and artistry,

All because they want to bend me.

Radicalisation slowly.

If Malcolm was still living , he would be intensifying words to the masses profusely,

All because they want to liberate me.

Support us, honor us, befriend us then turn-on us,

Bleed us,

Bomb us,

Kill us,

Blair face lying, people dying.

Steal, sanction and starve us,

US Terrorisation and mutilation,

Bush misery pain still all the same even with Obama presidency fame,

All because they want to liberate us.

Ha ha, you still can never break us,

Chain me,

Shock me,

Pork feed me,

Defecate on God’s inimitability,

Rape me in front of my family,

Take a photo and ask me to smile shamefully,

Coward unchain me!

Keep trying, you will never break me.

Take your freedom and liberation, save it for your hypnotized folk in your own country,

US Neo con, BNP and Israeli F16 bomb,

I know you hate it when I say,

Justice and Mohammed’s way for humanity,

I told you, cant you hear

Takbir loud and clear.

Bones brake, flesh tears 'Apology', the soul has impenetrability,

You will never get to me!

Copyright of Adam Deen

When will I be home ? A poem by Adam Deen

When will I be home?

Oh Allah, until I’m reunited with the One,

Let the invocation of your name quench my thirst,

Let me be nourished by your Love and have your spirit as air,

Let me live by the intoxication of your name,

Every cell in my body worships you and longs for you Oh Allah,

Oh Allah, if I’m not ready, let this be the compromise whilst I endure the wait.

When will I meet you?

Will I meet?

I beg you, Ya Rabbi, what is an Abd without his Lllah?

You call, I answer, you speak I listen, a bond unparalleled.

You are the just and most merciful.

Will I meet your Rasool?

Oh Rasoollah can you hear me, I miss you, my beloved brother, my guide,

I only know Good of you; you touched my heart and soul,

My Rab loves you; I give you that love too,

I wait in anticipation, with excitement and restlessness,

Days commence nights end, can’t be, and won’t be soon enough.

by Adam Deen

Poem - "Death eyes"

Written shortly after the death of my beloved grandmother.

Death can not happen to me!

The news of others no real care for me,

Just a habitual concern for humanity,

But the death of a loved one

Quivering and sobering, my trance broken. How can it be, life ending so suddenly?

I stomp the floor a strike at the wall.

Why did this tremor have to be, my world was fine just momentarily?

Wait! The world stops, my hairs on my back raise my eyes watery.

I realise my anguish and pain, death! This is the same fate for me,

My dream is wrecked, my daze broken, for I too will be no more.

Is this world real around me, how did it distract so deceivingly?

This is an illusion to fool me, damn you world, I was unaware of something so sure, it is right in front of me.

Clarity besieges me, my comforting illusion deserts me.

Death eyes focus, things are no longer as they were.

The real becomes surreal; friend becomes foe, for they are the deceivers as well as the deceived, the sweet a little less sweet, bitterness still bitter.

The host fooled its guest but won’t stand in Azra'il’s way.

She has not left, she has arrived, she is where she is meant to be.

It is I, who is not at peace, still travelling, my soul waiting patiently for its destiny, the time and place only my Lord knows for him to see.

Must stay awake, continue, must not let this world deceive me.

By Adam Deen