Saturday 14 October 2017

The pavement flood

Brown beaten sneakers slide up the waterfront
the glass sea explodes with one crunch
its ceiling cries out from all its burdens proclaimed
the teardrop rain carries on its war of flames
Miss sneakers travels up to the arid ex-marsh
and is martialled to salvation by a truth sheathed false.
balls of glass jade hit her skull
she sulks to the land
with her imagination in hand
to the reality of pavement pools,
puddles and floods. 


- By Laila Ali Haid

Wednesday 13 September 2017

The dua

my pink tongue pierced
with a hateful thorn
my mind shattered
by my heart - so lovelorn.
the darkest corner of my room
also stores some gold
I crawl into that very abyss
with all the strength of a newborn foal
Halfway I trip
into a threadbare casket
the very death I feared
retreated like a sinful king
for a dua I whimpered
on my way to greed and dark lay
split the ceiling forth
and let calm touch my brain.

- By Laila Ali Haid

Sunday 27 August 2017

TLC

Tender, Loving, Comparable
he says
Tender, Lost and Calm
she says
Love, ever the dictator
tears them apart,
They are hook and sinker'd
By the ring that encloses them
Never be free,
lonely with thee.

~

Dead flowers bow out

Waves of pity

Clash with my ambience

Isolation overcomes

My acute awareness

to the folly

of our relationship's myth.


- By Laila Ali Haid






Zipped and Unlocked

Three Zips unlock
a damaged soul
a torn heart
and ?
the second zip
revels
in shrouded beauty
the third reveals
broken love as art
the first -
well that zipper don't work
it is naked and bare to the
unsheathed eye
that my love is alien
it is a force in a cell
imprisoned by madness
caught by cupid's flame
soaked in unrequited
despair and war,
hate.

- By Laila Ali Haid

Shallowness

Are you/we shallow?

I would say a quite high percentage of people I have come across in my life are really shallow, in the sense that they take advantage of others easily and would readily rank you low in their self-concocted hierarchy one they find out you're different to them and others in their friendship network. Still learning to love others and wish them well so I don't become a big meany lol.


- By Laila Ali Haid

Friday 19 May 2017

Thoughts on voting

This is my article which is also posted on amaliah.com

For me, I didn't always find it accurate to say that voting was the ultimate way to express a political opinion.

Indeed, before turning the voting age I had attended my full share of political demos and had contributed plenty of dramatic think pieces to the local paper as student correspondent.

However, since turning 18 I have mostly disengaged with voting and elections, partly owing to my lack of confidence in the political structure of the UK, and in the mainstream British parties and candidates.

However, the primary factor for my abstention from voting was my faith.

So as I ask why Muslims haven't made themselves into a strong electoral contingent in the 
UK, I feel that the answer lies in some introspection.

Firstly, my enquiry into the subject of voting in the British Islamic community is rooted in my personal experiences as a non-voter, and now as a registered member of the electorate.

It was during initially the 2010 elections in the United Kingdom that I first came across the non-voting opinion.

As silly as it sounds, I found out that voting could be disallowed through a nasheed rap video. These singers deigned it haram to vote and gave a brief overview of why that was so 
through this song.

Mainly, their argument for voting abstention was that it was haram (forbidden) because legislation belonged to Allah only.

That the Qur'an and Sunnah should source all Law is something that I agree with - as believing in Allah as the sole legislator is a cornerstone of our faith.

I would further argue that since Allah created us and gave us understanding, life, intellect and everything we operate with as human beings - we should then give credence to the guidance that Allah gave to us.

However, we also need to now deal with the life we have in our hands.

I would love to live under a perfect government led by the same humility and faith as the Rashidun Caliphates in the early days of Islam.

However, being born in Western Europe and brought up in the UK, I feel like I have a right and responsibility to engage in my current context.

That is – to acknowledge that it’s good to reflect and discuss the past (hey, I'm a History undergrad as it is) - but also to build and fix for my community’s future, and also its now?

For example, what are we Muslims going actually to do about rising tuition fees? Given that only 20% of the Muslim community in the UK are in full-time employment, where/what are the avenues for investment in our education, and thus our economic lives?


http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-31435929

The above is my primary concern. The socio-political and economic disenfranchisement of the Muslim community in Britain is something that only for discussion when framing the issue of integration and assimilation against Muslims. 

Uplifting and enhancing the lives of British Muslims has never been a non-patronising policy concern, which shows that there is a cognitive dissonance from our government and society towards British Muslims.

Yet, the existence of the above quandary is partially and collectively our fault.

Firstly, the British Muslim community needs to unshackle themselves from their apathy toward challenging the status quo outside of their communities - in a reasonable manner.

Another issue I take with is that charity has diverted the political efforts of British Muslims rather than structural change.  

Ma Sha Allah! As far as I know, Muslims are the leading charitable group in the UK.

However, I wish there were more think tanks, more NGOs, more awareness groups that could help to improve the lives of British Muslims strategically.

The above could be a possibility should Labour's Jeremy Corbyn be elected this summer, the leverage on various socio-economic constraints could help British Muslims have an easier movement toward their political and personal goals.


However, we will fall and take some steps back by refusing to vote and dismissing our two million voices in the process.  

- By Laila Ali Haid

Friday 14 April 2017

The Release

"Ali" she unfurls her thick lips to mumble her short surname.

"Take a seat." Sara, knowing off by heart the lyrics and melody to the every week call-and-response game of a local hospital centre, takes a seat at the corner of the baby blue painted waiting room. She looks over for friendly company. Her therapist from last year, maybe, whom she had great rapport with and was able to test her almost-witty dry humour on, might just walk by with his busy workload and students following.

Or could it be another patient. Therefore, she prepared a fake-warm smile or a weary nod to whoever followed by.

"Sara!" she looked over to an unfamiliar student nurse, in tow with her supervising Doctor. Sara pushed her feet in. Then she remembered her smile and nod but her eyes darted across the room to the farthest floor, as if trying to meet a gaze but failing to.

Its a quarter to four.

Sara is on the 16 bus to nowhere, middletown.

Sara is afraid of a few things - one, as the daylight plasters on without the puncture of skylines.

Its half past four.

Sara's family are eight. They greet her warmly. She interprets their distance.

The Koran is playing upstairs, the Chapter named after Mary - Jesus' mother.

She feels OK now. The evening news bellows across the lounge room. She watches the bright flash of the telly, rueful.


- By Laila Ali Haid


Friday 10 March 2017

Love is the drug.

adrift upon the four winds,
were your romantic evasive words,
by which you immersed
the grazing herds,
into empty symbolism and myth.
I was gassed to death
by cupid's baby breath
any sensibility suffocated by
plastic consumerist lullabies.
I let passion claim our souls
in return for a good ending -
and drawn-in roles.


-  By Laila Ali Haid





Sunday 5 March 2017

Dying to confuse

dying to confuse
lying, and so obtuse 
burnt on a whisper of praise 
leaving me on a smoked daze.
This pathology cannot be explained,
it lies within the maze
of psycho-fancies and spineless interpretations,
they will never understand,
as you make depression your brand,
that you live on imitation --
isn't that what life essentially is?
being a copycat from birth.
I must say
the ponderous will never avert, 
the day of the darkest lay --

your grave. 

 
- By Laila Ali Haid



Wednesday 15 February 2017

faint black heart

a faint black heart,
submerged by the dunya,
soaked in poison by,
the most evil of darts,
blocked from this life and the afterlife.
She's letting out another weary
burdened sigh
which subtly notifies,
my wary nervous system,
that I dive for the dimply lit
covers of my resting
and ignore the future daylight sky


- By Laila Ali Haid



Tuesday 24 January 2017

Picture Perfect

A toothpaste smile and a firm handshake for tomorrow. Suited and booted for an honest days desk life.

The sister receives a fake opportunity to kill and struggle for her family. With it she can bring home the bread as well as yesterday's mutton.

No money to make money, honey, so we're stuck in the proverbial blissful abyss of empty bellies and overdrafts for days.

Why should I join the fishing boat to inner London's inner turmoil for a shiny Queen Elizabeth penny, brass in pocket but the pocket is full of holes.

Mama, sew me and my back pocket together again.

- By Laila Ali Haid

Wednesday 18 January 2017

Spring Time Sadness

neutral upsets her
the nautical makes one exert
too much pressure,
and the fey just fades on her.
don't ask about spring
the summer strangles with the oppression of heat,
- naturally she takes her cover in the winter
ploughing through the snow in stacked heels
the diva of the cold nights
hibernates through life's springs,
spring reminds her of wishful thinking and the movie Amelie,
there's just no life it brings.

- By Laila Ali Haid

Monday 16 January 2017

Glass Heart

the green bottle shards, throttle
my happy heart and adoring face
as we court courteously in the courtyards
tartly, the queen of swords,
covetous
cares not a green speck on the earth
for our game of loves and thrones,
no aces in our decks
no last breath
no final plea
I die, not seen.


- By Laila Ali Haid













Thursday 5 January 2017

Sin of Pride

Temporarily yoked,
by a mortal love
darting toward your leather jacket
tearing open
your puffed heart
pierced, now congealed in bloody pride
and jingoistic sighs.


- By Laila Ali Haid

Quran and Hadith Translations

  Translation of the Noble Quran and Hadiths Translated by Laila Ali Haid Chapter 1. Surah Fatiha In the name of the Lord, The Most Gracious...