Huwwa

Author: Harmonie 22 Copyright © 2008
Blog: http://theperceptionpoint.wordpress.com/
Location: USA

You Are
the Love Language
whose Name is sung
on the lips of lovers that be
and quivers on the lips
of lovers that would be
gender to gender genderless
all possibilities in all its forms of
solidarity
like to like and like to all

You
manifesting lovingly
through sweet songs sung
in swooning dialogue of lovers that be

You
the dialogue of lovers that would be
dialecting deliciously sensually
love tools

You
pour through them
by way of lips and tongue
turning into word that is heard
perhaps Your tongues touchingly taste
brushing lovingly against one another
slowly and in haste
against Yourself
in their kisses and in their words
aware
God Self-reflected
in one another
made aware
by the sounds of Your words
muttering Your Love Line Life Line Name
marking the reference point that’s best
for the One of All to discern itself
as one and the same
with these words in highest trust
truth that does move
moves the highest love
to the Highest Exalted Lover

You
You and me before the rest then all truth shall manifest
You moving mutes into ecstatic tongues
speaking undivided each to each
speaking the code that rolls off the lips
that have been blessedly kissed with Your Name

You a language without fear
a vocabulary without shame
no fear no shame for You are to blame
in ecstasy we utter Your Ecstatic Name
in seeking You I found me
how can this be true
You You You
Are the music that fills my inner ear
the One Primal Sound
that resounds through all the spheres
You Are
the Love Language
whose Name is sung on the lips of lovers that be
and quivers on the lips of lovers that would be

You
a sound
that cannot be contained
a Light
that by mere man
cannot be fully explained
a vocabulary
without the words fear or shame
Your love for me and my love for You
is a love language
one and the same
over and over and over
I call Your Name
You…

(Photo: copyright www.stillsinflux.com)

Another Kind of Eidiyya

Author: Harmonie 22 Copyright © 2007

Blog: http://theperceptionpoint.wordpress.com/

Location: USA

 

Why. Don’t. We. Ever .Really. Talk. About. It.

Heroin. Addiction.

Say it.

Your mouth won’t shatter.

Shattered is the heroin addict who will sell you for a desperate five-Dinar fix.

Shattered is the gaze of a dead brother’s eyes in your dreams telling you heaven on earth is in a 50cc syringe of brown bliss and a blessing is finding a good vein. Shattered is the friend you once had who was kicked down by life’s boot and now only seeks out sweet oblivion to numb their pain. Shattered is the wife when her husband tells her he doesn’t need her, just his needle. Shattered is the child that grows up without a father but a slumped-over coach potato talking to them while their eyes are closed. Shattered is the family who tells everyone that the valiant boy died in a fight defending friends. Shattered is the family that lies to itself and pretends it never happened. Shattered is the family that lied and yet must endure speculations about the cause of death, anyway.

Shattered is the mother on the second day of Eid when she has to go identify her son’s body in the morgue and wonders why there’s not a wound on his body, just a bruised chest and nose and swollen blue-bitten lips. Shattered are his friends with bruised hands who go visit her after the funeral and can’t look her in the eye and tell her that he didn’t know his dose after fasting for one month, that the marks on his body were their last futile poundings and pinchings trying to bring him back. Shattered are the friends who must live with choosing not to take him to the hospital because then they would be screwed too and so dumped his body in an empty lot instead.

Shattered is the rare person who gets caught and (maybe) miraculously gets rehabilitated and has to live under the stigma of social pariah. Shattered are the people in the heroin addicts’ wake who try to get them to quit, not understanding that no one can ever force anyone to quit. Shattered is the impatient ‘I-waited-for-you-for-ten-minutes’ father in the mosque who finds the body of his fourteen year-old son curled around an empty syringe in the bathroom stall and curses God for giving him too much patience.

Shattered is the dying patient who is given a kick and an aspirin and told to get better quick or else. Shattered are the companies that choose not to implement drug-testing policies because it will cause more problems than solving them. Shattered is the perception that sticks drug addicts into mental institutions and jails instead of rehabilitating them.

Shattered is the pointing hand that jumps to slap and stalls to heal.

Shattered is the heroin junkie who wonders every day what life would have been like if they never did drugs. Shattered is the person who walks away from these words in fear of association. Shattered is the person who shivers from reading these words because they know exactly just what I mean. Shattered is the rejecting mind because it learned the hard way that trying to reform a heroin addict is as easy as bringing back the dead. Shattered is the person who wrote this.