Saff's Blog

Love All it takes to rediscover  The soul hidden beneath  The grime-stone Is that secret which uncovers The silent longings of a deafened heart - That overflowing of love where Your heart is a falcon Beating wings into your chest,  Where the sky is the limit and you are climbing Higher and higher until You can't tell where the sky ends and you begin. All it takes to restore The fitra of your core  Is the commandment to do good and prohibit evil -  That upheaval of the norm where Y our psyche is a lion T earing darkness from your chest, Where the earth is your oyster  and you must abandon Its pearls until  You can't tell where love ends and you begin.

Peace At Last Peace descends, And you can - breathe once again, And you are - At home, where you finally belong. In this - desert land of hopes and dreams, You are lost and you are found. Where the - sun burns life back into your bones, and the winds wash away the scars of the old. Where the - blessed saints have tread and you truly feel Quran is your abode. Where there is union of heart and of soul and you're soaring through the skies When you step out and the whole world smiles and you're bursting at the seams and you know you are at peace at last.

Salvation Charred. A blackened mass of flesh. Beaten, battered, bruised. A writhing imposter - stamped to your chest. Burning it shreds through your veins You can't get it out. it pulsates, writhes a beating drum pleading to be heard. it placates when you look away. if you don't look it doesn't exist - but it always comes back. Consuming. Ravenous. In your head. Tearing through your thoughts. Poison in your blood. You can't get it out - Until. Blinding. A shimmering light Implodes through the twilight, Surpassing a dwindling Sun. A salvation corroding that Rusted organ that wails to Breathe 'Allahu' once again. Healing. That salvation that stirs the Longing of love that buried itself So deep within you It ceased to exist. Renewing. Purifying. Fighting the fire of neglect with The fire of hope. The salvation that gives solace In the dark of the night That triggers the tears in your eyes, The rep...

Journey Your journey begins here. At the end of everything. You must take that dreaded step - into the wilderness. Off the cliff face. Into nothing. Your path has only just begun. Weary-eyed, soul-drained. Lost in the rat race of this concrete jungle they call civilisation - progress. Home? Your time in this metropolis was but a passing wind, eddying from storm to storm, devoured by gale upon gale - spat out. Unwanted by this unruly ocean. Your passage was but a means to an end. Numbered days that toyed with the idea of forever. Days that chipped at your porcelain until you remained. A shell. Your bloodied feet have had no rest. The path is arduous and the days are long. The journey is unbearable and the nights hold no respite. You don't belong here -  a stranger in your own home. Your voyage has shaped and battered you. Here you stand. The precipice of the...

A Wistful Love Were that I could gaze, Upon your illumined face. Were that my eyes could trace The pearl of nur in its embrace Of the grooves of your face – The perfect arches of your brows, Your midnight orbs – piercing yet somehow A reflection of mercy, love and grace. Were that I could see The seal of prophecy nestled proud, Between broad shoulders speaking loud Of original form – a guarantee Of a gentle prowess, courage and strength - only found In the best of the best, Al Mustafa, Whose blessed gleam reached near and far- A breath of life to a people drowned. Were that I could drink From the well of Ilm that you exude, From your healing and love of a magnitude - To rival the fire of a burning star, To soothe the pain of a livid scar. For surely you are the missing link In a yearning hearts disquietude, A promise of guidance and fortitude. Were that I could sleep To dream of your beloved form, Witness your splendour...

It glares at you, Pale. Wan. Sickly A gaping fissure Tearing apart worlds.  A statement. A reminder. Everything you could have been - Everything you're not  It ripped you up, Angry. Vengeful. Loud.  A seething impurity Nesting where it doesn't belong. A statement. A reminder. Everything you could have been - Everything you're not 

We dance An intoxicating tango That races through the years A battle of the wills We are a flurry of motion An offbeat tarantella That perpetually ricochets But the light blinks out.

You think you’ve got better Climbed higher; made progress But the ladder’s swept out From under your feet.

Flicker. Your light Begins to Wane, Bright gradually fades. No. Not giving up - Buckling. The weight of it all. Stop. You still must shine, Northern star - Who else can guide? A bright, Guiding light – but blinding Darkness Swallows you whole. Sucks you dry. Don’t. Close your eyes,   Sigh. You cannot rest Keep shining. My Northern star, Guide.

Beat tides of indignation. Find s trength in absolution. Rise above the darkness. Ablaze, Claim the future.

Sir, I truly am very sorry to tell you that the sun does not shine out of your posterior, that I will not conform to upper-class snobbery nor will I place frivolous labels upon the mundane. Pretentious. Sir, It is with the utmost regret that I inform you that I am in fact   a GIRL – that is sugar, spice and all things nice but also slugs and snails and puppy dogs tails and I will not pretend otherwise. Archaic.  Sir, I really do apologise that you feel the need to treat me different my head being covered , my skin being almond, chestnut, cinnamon – Prejudiced. Beastly. But Sir, I am the face of the future The mind of the liberated A body of change And you will not thwart my flame.

My puzzle isn't complete  Without all the pieces Perfect jigsaw  Sliding into place  Winds can't blow  Without a driving force  Knock me down Only to raise me higher  Laughter can't be heard Without endearing presence  Movie nights, catty fights  Fetus hair, broken chair Fun can't be had Without us all together Fruit platters, decadent cakes Basking under suns rays Tears can't fall Without you there to wipe them Hold me up  Cast away the darkness Weakness can't be felt Together fighting battles We're all for one, One for all Distance can't be felt Chatter on into the dusk Smiling cheeks Roasting, salty, savage Tradition can't uphold Without a Chillie's night To say goodbye  To you I hold so dear My puzzle isn't complete  Without all the pieces Perfect jigsaw  Sliding into place

Minerva rose from the sodden trench, her skin cracked and aged with time, a bobbing sea of crimson before her. The sky whirled above, a kaleidoscope of colour dashed with the ebony of ethereal crows – each hue a chapter of a life long lost. There was something somewhat uncanny about the air this time, a familiar tang of foreboding that hung like a tightened noose. She sighed.   When would mortals finally learn that the price of war was eternal damnation? Flash Fiction – 80 words.

  She forgets to breathe. Throttled; a tempest of thoughts  A raging Tsunami in a millpond  Waves drown her - Each stronger than the last. Streams of words  Breed poisoned hearts, Forever marred - granite marks  This perpetual abyss Engulfs the stars Battered she  lies,  Still as a carcass The torrent of life.

It Burns As it runs through my veins But I can’t get you out

Tiger Fire upon coal Fierce beauty to behold As it roars and claws Age Silent and deadly A majestic predator Savage, time goes on Waterfall Raptly it roars down In a perpetual dance Of ivory foam Rapids Elegant fury Kaleidoscope of beauty Opulent aqua

You Say You say it as if you want me When we all know that you don't You treat me like a trophy Gold that glistens in the dark You say it as if you need me But we all know that you can't You still think I'm your torch Stood here burnt right out You say it as if you'll love me When we both know that you won't You're trying to fill the chasm Full of years null and void You say it as if I'll stay here But we both know that I shan't You kicked open the flood gates Your little bird flew right out

Brilliant hues of the ocean in magnificent blues stretched as far as the eye could see. Mellowly murmuring, gentle waves lapped over bronzed sands. Here and there, a glassy granule would glint in the strong, steady and scorching sun. Driftwood lay at intervals, bleached a chalky white. A stone's throw from the silken sands, an untameable forest stood, proud and wild. Acres of trees banded together to form impenetrable canopies; soldiers guarding their sacred land. Darkness smothered the forest, bleeding dead and bleakness into the close surroundings. Treacherous rivers seemingly formed out of nothingness , shielded by declivitous mud banks. The haunting howls of unknown beasts sliced through the air. Like a thousand thorns, the woodland sang stories of ancient fear. Deteriorating skeletons half buried beneath ferns helped form the uneven ground. The bitter call of the wind caressed the humid air like icy fingers. Ebony berries dripping toxic juices hung from disfigured bramble...

Knowledge. Memory. Two words. A plethora of meaning. But just before I delve into that I want to ask you to memorise something for me:  Lets all be unique together until we realise we are all the same. Ok, now back to knowledge and memory. I'm sure most would agree when I say that without memory, knowledge is nothing and vice versa. But then again, aren't our memories flawed? Isn't everything we remember fabricated - a lie in one way or another? Does this not then mean that our knowledge is also flawed and could really just all be a figment of our imaginations? Think about it - no one ever really agrees about anything unless provided with solid fact to support it and back it up. But what if that 'solid' fact isn't all that solid? What if it's just someone else's recollection of an event that occurred and has been recorded as a fact? What if an apple never really did fall on Newton's head - what if he discovered gravity and then 'remember...

Knowledge. This is a word that holds extortionate amounts of  weight. A word or better yet, an object that could bring down nations only to build them up again, stronger than ever before. But what does it mean? At it's heart - what is it really? In my opinion knowledge is subjective. It is influenced by age, nationality, experience, religion and science among many other factors. Not only that but its very fibres, what it really is at its core is only that which we believe it to be for we all hold knowledge (in whatever form that may be), but how we practice it, what we consider it to be differs. I, for instance, believe that knowledge is an all-encompassing light that guides us and leads on to wisdom. It is not merely the art of being book smart or knowing scientific facts, rather, a kaleidoscope of the skills we have learnt, the hardships we have gone through, the ability to inquire and seek the truth and, at its crux the understanding of the happenings around us and the ...