365 Art

Day 34

Haiku

Feelings of anger
Why can't I just be set free
I guess I'm just ungrateful


Don't think too hard. It's simplistic enough.

365 Art

Day 33

Dont.Touch.Her.

Sometimes words aren’t enough

So I paint vivid pictures

Simple enough for the layman

Yet

Sufficient for the genius

But…

With words of course

I never learned how to use an easel properly

So I [speak] in frames

She said, “he’s a good man, with good intentions”

But I know better

You see

I’ve read letters

And listened when I appeared in other realms

My heart merely beat as it should have

So

I know that [you’re] scared

And aware

Because It’s in your eyes

And no matter how tough an adolescent you were

It’s enough

Everyone faces fright when surrounded with tumult

Just obliterate the pretense of strength

Courage is needed even when giving up

Let’s make-believe

I’ll make you believe me when I say that you’re lost

I have looked deep enough

Your core has transformed from vibrant to crushed

Flush consuming your skin-tone

You are dying in front of me

And, all I can do is wonder

If [I] slap you with enough force

Will you wake up?

To my mother...

Bittersweet memories

Ummi,

I never told you this, but I felt it was time now.

I am almost 6 months away from turning 29, and now have 2 children of my own, and I can honestly say, I understand what you did and why you did it. That doesn't mean I agree with every part of it, or that I want to mirror your example as a mother myself in it's entirety, but...

I respect you.

My respect for you and your hard work has increased so much in the last few months that I had to write it down. Late nights, 8 of us, poverty, a Da'ee for a husband, and no help most of the time.

I respect you.

A proud, never complaining, always pleasant, loving in so many ways, great friend to all, exemplary Muslim woman, and content housewife.

I respect you.

Never did you ask Abi for anything that wasn't given. He didn't stress. You trusted him in the hardest of situations, you instilled belief in us that everything would be handled by Allah, and it was. At times we weren't the best of children, and many of us disappointed you...again...at times. But you continued to smile, and pray.

I respect you.

I feel a connection to you that I hope never withers. I was breech in your tummy. My daughter was breech in my tummy. I was diagnosed with Bronchitis at 3 months old and was in the emergency room on oxygen. My daughter was diagnosed at 3 months old with Bronchitis and had to get an Albuterol treatment. I turned over right before birth, she too turned over right before birth. Our connection can never be denied. When you use to tell me the story of your pregnancy with me, my stomach would turn, thinking about the concern and stress of you having to face such hard situations. Now I, the same child that listened to those stories about me, have gone through it all and more.

I respect you.

And after all of these years, your youngest is 26, and you're still just as concerned and involved as you were preadolescence.

I want to kiss your feet, rub your hands, and hold your heart so that it feels my adoration for your every effort to rear us to the best of your ability. I won't say you deserve the world because you don't. In my opinion you have earned something far greater. You deserve Allah, and I pray that He allows you exactly that.

Ummi, I love and respect you endlessly. Thank you for being exactly who you are. For that,

I.Respect.You

Upside-Down-Girl-