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Religious Allah Poems | Religious Poems About Allah

These Religious Allah poems are examples of Religious poems about Allah. These are the best examples of Religious Allah poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Couplet | |


Body is the house where you live
Forest is the place where animals survive

Water is the place where crocodile dominate
Mountain is the place where rivers originate

Mind is the source that breeds imagination
Kind is the form of desirable destination

Nest is the place where birds dwell                                                                                                     Hospital is the place where patients get well

Court is the place where criminals are punished                                                                                     Grave is the place where everyone is finally finished

Life in this Earth, with hard work thrives 
For world is the body where He lives!


Above poem is adapted from the eBook “ALL ARE ONE! ONE IS ALL!! AND OTHER POEMS ON GOD ” by Mr.V.Muthu manickam. Copyright is held by V.Muthu manickam.


Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: II

Invisible chap
Bearded egomaniac
Probably not real

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: III

Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: V

Omniscient guy
Yet he lets bad things happen
How can he exist?

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

The number the brand

When I met her , a very old lady she was , yet inside lay a frightened child .
I felt my heart cry , I felt as if I was touching history itself , as I made this older lady, child,  chai .

I remember the day , and so many tears I have cried
I have cried before she and I met 
As a child , so many tears, left confused inside .

Not understanding Why , and how could we stand by and live our lives as if this never happened ?

It happened , we are left in dismay of the movies seen the accounts taken of History 
My self ..I have caught stereotyping the very people whom did this to she , the rest of her Family erased .

The white candles we light , we try and forgive , or just simply block this pain out completely.

It occurs , over and over , as it has been said History will repeat .
When thinking of my children , when I think of that little girl losing ,  cold and scarred , feeling only defeat .

There is a lesson here and I pray , that all whom have been taken from life , have no pain and are gifted spirits throughout eternity . May they be warmed with love,  and reunited with the ones they lost .

The first time I met her , her old hand I took and warmed it with mine , I held it for a long time . 
You could not,  but notice ..the Evil imprinted on skin , the Evil only to remind.
This very old Soul , in her eyes you could see . 
The child that once lived , so innocently free, not aware yet,  of the Hostility .

I speak of a Little girl, I speak of a old woman , I speak of a Jewish,  chosen Religion.

There as I held her frail , old hand  , a brand , a number stamped in Evil a long time ago .   In 1945  , once in our distant, yet Frightening  past . 

We should never forget , never forget it happened , never forget all the names .
If we do , we have learned nothing , A World living in Shame .
                                " Etta Babooshka Kofman  "

Copyright © Shanity Rain

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: IV

God made all people
But some better than others?
Stop being silly.

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Hamd | |

Allah is the one

Allah is the one,
neither he is father nor he is son,

and the things get done,

Allah made the sky,
seems to like fly,

Allah made universe,

Allah gives anyone without reason,
Allah do not tired in any season,

Allah is everywhere,
nearer than your heart nears,

Allah is the one,
neither his father nor his son,

Copyright © hamza abid

Details | I do not know? | |

Johnny Got His Gun

Your patriotism leaves meat for the dogs, 
Your religious hope has left a carcass for the road. 
Pay your country with patriotism, 
“Johnny grab your gun! ” 
Now the world has a hero, 
Rotting dead by the millions. 
Defend the righteous from the infidels, 
Grab your guns and rack lead straight through the flesh. 
Now the world is safe for your Christ, 
Now we can worship Allah in peace. 

You did your religious duty, 
You did your patriotic crap, 
You slashed your way to power, 
And left behind miles of bodies to rot and sour. 

Look at the hero, 
He murders for fame. 
The religious senselessly bought his gain, 
Though genocide was they’re game. 
But it’s ok, 
God ordered the blood to drain, 
It takes the guilt away 
Just to know that democracy is safe for gain. 
A rotting carcass is a small price to pay, 
Now the patriots can have they’re fame. 

“Johnny grab your gun, 
Become a hero and have some fun.” 
A shell explodes, and his body scatters and runs, 
But all that matters is that Johnny got his gun.

Copyright © adam hollingsworth

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: VI

The body: sacred
We’re all made in God’s image
Hence... circumcision?

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Rhyme | |

I'm a Muslim I'm not a Terrorist

I am a Muslim, I’m not a “terrorist”.
How can I be a terrorist
when I’m against all kinds of injustice.

I’m against every act of sin and evil.
I hate all kinds of crime and even loathe
what Adolf did to the innocent Jewish people.

I hate what God hates; He (Allah) hates oppression.
I’m against stealing, against taking away
people’s loved ones and belongings for no reason.

I’m against suicide bombings,
against racism, against ignorance,
against self-harm and even derision.

What God hates I hate and God (Allah) hates
oppression. I hate it too when people fight
for foolish nationalistic reasons.

I’m a Muslim; I follow the true religion
of mercy from Allah the Most Merciful
Who simply wants us to answer His Call
to believe in Just One -Just One God of all.

So don’t call me a “terrorist” when I clearly
don’t have a ‘mass destruction’ weapon
and my goal in life is to
be with our God (Allah) in Heaven.

Copyright © Mariam Mababaya

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: I

Overture of lies:
Don’t take it literally

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Haiku | |

SK- 4

Silence has spoken
From the roaring of the tides
God is a river

Copyright © viviane leite

Details | ABC | |

A healthy Kenyan Ego Poem

A huge ego breaks off love’s embrace,
A tiny ego slips off love’s embrace,
No ego, no embrace of love!

A selfless ego suffocates from love’s embrace,
A selfish ego wards off love’s embrace,
No ego, no embrace of love!

A super-visual ego overshadows love’s embrace,
A deep-seated ego is colonized by love’s embrace,
No ego, no embrace of love!

A healthy ego humbly looks above,
A healthy ego can lead and also serve...

Its nerves know not pressured blood,
But developing it is almost hard!

Copyright © Kenyan Poets Lounge for Poetry and poems in Kenya

Details | Prose Poetry | |


Zindagi wo nahi, JO Nazar Ati Hai Tum Ko
Yeh To Chalti Howi Sansoo Ka Safar Hoti Hai
Yeh To Bekiri Howi Yadoon Ka Mazhar Hoti Hai
Yeh To Totay Howay Lafzoon  Ka Nasar Hoti Hai
Zindagi!  To Naam Hai Us Insaneyat Ka
Jes Ki azmat Ka Yakin! Farashtoon Nay Sajday may Kiya
Zindagi! To paygham Hai Us Jazbay Ka
Jis Ka Safar Soraj Ki Kirnoo Say shuru Hota Hai
Zindagi, Us Katab Ki Manind Hai 
Jis Ka Unwaan !  Musafar Ki Akasi Karta hai
Zindagi To Kahani Hai Us Musafarat Ki     
 Jis Ki Manzil Soraj Kay goroob ! Honay Tek Hoti Hai
Zindagi To Naam Hai Us Rishtay Ka 
Jis Ka Raabta !  Rooh Or Jism Kay Darmiyan Hota Hai
Zindagi To Ahsaas Hai Us Mohabat Ka
Jis Ka Ahtamaam ! Khuda Nay Jannat Bana Kay Kiya
Yeh Wo Bewafa Hai Jo Khudi Kay Daway Kay Bawajood 
Khud Apnay Wojood Ko Pal may ! Tanha Kar deyti Hai Zindagi
Zindagi Salaam Ho Tuj Pay Kay Teri  Baqa Kay Leyeh
Qudarat Nay Shub-o-rooz Ko Sajaya Hai ! Zindagi Kay Leyeh

Copyright © Shaista Mansoor

Details | Verse | |

An angel came

An angel came!

Nights in black and white,
My mind keeps drifting from side to side.

Wondering in my mind about the voice I heard,
At my bedside an angel came.

"Be patient," The voice said;
I heard it so clear, yet so discreet.

To hear a strange voice whisper into my ear,
It made me scared, and it made me fear.

Fear from God who heard my cry,
Begging for mercy, to save a child.

Praying to all angels to keep her safe
The mother of my children, my soul mate.

This is a sign for me to know,
That God is with me, and I am not alone.

Thank you God for this sign you gave me,
To remind me that there is a God up there
and to be patient.
I’ll keep my faith every time I'm down,
With my forehead touching the ground.

Copyright © ali hammoud

Details | Verse | |

Mary in Holy Quran part2

 (22) And the pangs of childbirth drove her unto the trunk of the palm-tree. She said: Oh, would that I had died ere this and had become a thing of naught, forgotten! (23) Then (one) cried unto her from below her, saying: Grieve not! Thy Lord hath placed a rivulet beneath thee, (24) And shake the trunk of the palm-tree toward thee, thou wilt cause ripe dates to fall upon thee. (25) So eat and drink and be consoled. And if thou meetest any mortal, say: Lo! I have vowed a fast unto the Beneficent, and may not speak this day to any mortal. (26) Then she brought him to her own folk, carrying him. They said: O Mary! Thou hast come with an amazing thing. (27) O sister of Aaron! Thy father was not a wicked man nor was thy mother a harlot. (28) Then she pointed to him. They said: How can we talk to one who is in the cradle, a young boy? (29) He spake: Lo! I am the slave of Allah. He hath given me the Scripture and hath appointed me a Prophet, (30) And hath made me blessed wheresoever I may be, and hath enjoined upon me prayer and almsgiving so long as I remain alive, (31) And (hath made me) dutiful toward her who bore me, and hath not made me arrogant, unblest. (32) Peace on me the day I was born, and the day I die, and the day I shall be raised alive! (33) Such was Jesus, son of Mary: (this is) a statement of the truth concerning which they doubt. (34) It befitteth not (the Majesty of) Allah that He should take unto Himself a son. Glory be to Him! When He decreeth a thing, He saith unto it only: Be! and it is. (35) And lo! Allah is my Lord and your Lord. So serve Him. That is the right path. (36)The sects among them differ: but woe unto the disbelievers from the meeting of an awful Day. (37) How well they hear and see and hear them on the Day they come unto Us! yet the evil-doers are to-day in error manifest. (38) And warn them of the Day of anguish when the case hath been decided. Now they are in a state of carelessness, and they believe not. (39) Lo! We Only, We inherit the earth and all who are thereon, and unto Us they are returned. (40) And make mention (O Muhammad) in the Scripture of Abraham. Lo! he was a saint, a prophet. (41)When he said unto his father: O my father! Why worshippest thou that which heareth not nor seeth, nor can in aught avail thee?

For more information please visit:

Copyright © Hammam Hamad

Details | Lyric | |

59th Minute

Its the last minute of the 11th hour
I have seen a demon wondering searching for a soul
A priest coveting the ass of another man's woman at church
Convince people you have a speed dial to God's Kingdom
And they will take any theological theories given to them
They worship sophisticated stone deities. 
Emmanuel TV, electromagnetic Gods in static images
Composers of the reverse version of the Holy grail
Cursing God, misquoting scriptures and reversing verses
Misleading women like Hershey's Kisses and forbidden pleasures
The fabric of our species is a loose canon
The revelations post-predicted by the real Mayans
The apocalypse.

Its the last minute of the 11th hour
This poem is not against the church
It speaks for Rhodes, Selassie and Robert Moffat
New disciples that walked the deserts of Africa
The founders and architects of God's synagogues
Scribers that wrote covenants in caves at Timbuktu
Puthadikobo, Livingstone, and Thabanchu
Monasteries with no Automated Teller Machices on their walls
This poem is not against Anglicans, Catholics or  Apostles
Its an allegory against those that spit on the chapel alters
The bishops and priests with their filthy  urethrae
Their genitalia submerged in the oral cavities of alter boys
Seeking head in return for blessings, deliverance and confessions
Fake Joshuas who plant placebo demons and exorcise them for fame
The same devils that preach at the podium of cathedral portals
Dangerous men, listened and  worshiped  by millions

I m not against the church.
I believe in Muhammad and Jesus all the same
And the sacred message they bring supreme
From Judah through Jordan and the rivers of Ethiopia
I stand firm against Lucifer's devices.
In the face of damnation an entire nation has succumbed
The devil puts in more work than Jehovah's witnesses
Such a beautiful genus undone at the seams by its own beliefs
Victims of natural selection and ever-upgrading IQs
Each generation figures they can be better than their creator
Separationists led by confused evangelists
I m not against the church. I m against religion 
I have seen a demon at church searching for lost ones
A priest coveting the ass of another man's woman at church
Its the last seconds of  revelation's  last moments.

Copyright © Prince Katlholo

Details | I do not know? | |

The Cowardice of the Taliban and The Silence of The Good Muslims

The Cowardice of the Taliban and The Silence of The Good Muslims.

When hot lead tears the flesh of a 14 year old girl,

ripping through her skull,
leaving her to bleed out and die,

does Allah not recoil in horror,

to see His child whimper,
to see His daughter cry.

Where is the indignation,

the anger that often boils over and manifests itself as flags and books and videos are burnt in mass orgies of hollow piety,

where are the voices that scream so loud,
that denounce all but their own creed,

where are the men, the impotent men who crave for nothing more than their fascist egos to feed,

where are the voices that so loudly proclaim,
enemies here and enemies there, always quick to condemn,

where are those voices when the enemy walks amongst them.

14 year old Malala Yousafzai was shot in cold blood,

her crime?

Advocating the rights of girls to an education.

Shame on you, men of bigotry and men of cowardice.

Shame on you, silent and mute accomplices in this carnage.

Shame on me,
for my inaction,

Shame on us all,
who proclaim lofty ideals,

yet are conspicuously silent,

when a 14 year old girl is shot in the head,

by fascist fundamentalist bigots who only worship bullets of hot lead.

Not in my name!

Not in my name,
shall the cowardly men rain down abuse,

Not in my name,
shall the bigoted men light the communalistic fuse,

Not in my name,
shall Malala Yousafzai be shot in the head,

left to bleed out,
while countless mothers' tears are shed,

not in my name,
shall religious murderers,
be left to wander free,

not in my name,
for I dare all believers to open their eyes,
to see!

To see,
the innocence of a 14 year old girl,
wanting only an education,

as the men of the cloth,
prance around with their pathetic self-righteous indignation.

I write this today,
the anger raging in my veins,

yet I fear,

that I shall write more of this,

unless we stand up and say 'no more',

I fear that I shall be writing this again,

until we all,

reclaim the true principles of humaneness,

until we silence the voices of bigotry,
of rage,
of fanatical insanity,

I fear I shall be writing this again,


until the muck-ridden bile,
is not excised,

I shall continue to say,


Or else I shall have nothing,

but my unending shame.

(for Malala Yousafzai, 14 years old, in a critical condition after being shot in the head by the Pakistani Taliban, for her work as a young activist advocating the rights of girls to attend school)

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses

Details | I do not know? | |

The Tragedy of the Banished Revolutionaries

The Tragedy of the Banished Revolutionaries.

Epochs apart, yet,
bound by conscience,


Enduring the whispers of time,
through creeds professed,
sermons preached,
and a million sins confessed.


the essence,
of these banished revolutionaries,
is ceremonially muted by ritual,
and gleefully crushed under,
grandiose edifices,
that serve Religion Inc.

"And the meek shall inherit the earth",
an incendiary thought,
conveniently discarded,
for the pie in the sky that must be sought.

The tragedy of the banished revolutionaries,
whispers still,
for us to hear,
through the din of the cacophony of prayer.


The tragedy of the banished revolutionaries,
each day that we choose,
to shun the meek,
and mouth conscience-salving prayers,

for yet more silver,
and yet more silk.

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses

Details | I do not know? | |



The caustic tongues of the evangelists,
Across all creeds and faiths,
Seem as brittle as an old bone.

For they promise heaven and they spew forth threats of hell
While neglecting the words of that man who walked in Galilee

'let him who is without sin, cast the first stone'

the caustic tongues of the evangelists...

across all religions
new-age and the ones of old
baffle me even as I hear
a single simplistic sermon

for they really do, view us all
as blind imbeciles
scurrying around like faithless vermin

the caustic tongues of the evangelists...

wag on and dazzle us with visions of an eternal paradise
while here and now
their hypocrisy festers
within their earnest
well-meaning eyes...

'...dil mein hai khwaaish-e-hoor-o-jannat
aur zaahir mein shauk-e-ibaadat
bas hamen sheikh-ji aap jaise
allah-waalon se allah bachaaye...'

' your heart you desire the maidens of heaven
yet in the now you practice the rituals of piety
o' sheikh, may allah protect me
from the people of allah like yourself...'

is my tongue as caustic as the tongues I write about?
if so, then glad am I
for they shouldn't be the only ones
who preach and rant and continually shout

from their pulpits ever so high in the sky
from their hubris of comfort in possessing the 'truth'

from their 'knowing' that heaven or hell
awaits both the strong as well as the meek

while oblivious to the reeking foul smell
that encourages prejudice and hate
and visions not of peace
but of endless chants and prayers

which they, in their opium haze
rattle on and on
as they never seem to cease to speak

and though I’m sure that all this bile that I have spewed
will threaten
and offend

friend and
unfriend and
acquaintance alike


take pity on me instead
for it'll surely be I
who'll burn eternally
impaled by a benevolent god
on a slightly warmer than normal day in hell

on a crude wooden spike.

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses

Details | Prose | |

Two Things You Never Talk About At Work---Politics and Religion

Things might just turn out alright...

Long as we own the ability to see through political "solutions" and recognize 
Things might not be so bad...

With so many people waking up to see that following is not the only way.
Ideology can be toxic.
Why not take back your mind, at such a dark turning point? 
Or not, but do what it is that you need to do, 
besides simply obey, 
give up and say,
"Why have a brain when I can have ideology?
If in your gut, you know organized religion is a business 
that is an insult to the gift of human free thinking...
or become self selected for gullibility.

Things may still go sour if we...
adopt a religion that fits our lifestyle,
and suddenly, 
BAM! We've got all the answers, 
just refer to the catechisms,
to seek and destroy, and banish to hell, the non-believers.
Call them names if they do not convert to your way of living,
your way of thinking, 
your way of happiness. 
Refer to them as lowly atheists, Exibit A: "Who not to be."

But atheist, don't you dare whisper a bad word of the "good book",
written for man, 
written by  man, 
or rather by invisible god, 
no one has physically met. 

I Say,
If you feel god is real, and 
You love and need religion,
Do it Fluid like a Stonehenge Druid!
Have faith and walk with the Lord! 
Please, please, do not judge those who do not choose to think as you do.
There are better things in life than arguing
politics and religion,
the two grandest forms of division in the world!
And there are two things you never talk about at work, 
Religion and Politics.
----------------------------------------------good thing we aren't at work:)

Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO

Details | I do not know? | |

Killing in Allahs Name

Killing in Allah’s Name…


Pieces of burnt flesh,

in a school,
a market-place,
a temple,
a synagogue,
a mosque,
a church,

a man,
a woman,
a child,

charred hands, smouldering corpses, fractured bodies,
torn limbs,
dismembered human beings,

just human beings,

dead, murdered,

in Allah’s name…

…A 4 year old boy,
11 year old girl,
78 year old man,
40 year old mother of six,

killed, murdered,

in Allah’s name…

…Gandhi said ‘an eye for an eye will make the whole world blind’…


Complicit by my silence,

I stand in shame,

of the bigotry,
religious fanaticism,
wars of aggression,
invasions of distant countries,
flag-waving ‘my country right or wrong’,
blind nationalism,

perpetrated in my name…

…I refuse to be silent,
to be complicit,

while the slaughter continues,

each day,

in the name of god,
of country,
of creed,
of sexual-orientation,
of caste,

I refuse to be cowed,
to be complicit by my silence,

as the killing,
slaughtering continues…

…You who kill innocents,

you who shroud your slaughter in scripture,

you who drape your aggression in flags,

you who cloak your hate in anthems,

you who veil your intolerance in finely-tuned semantics,

you who bomb school-buses,

have lost.

…You may sow terror,

you may pound cities from afar,

you may wreak havoc,

yet you have lost,


you cannot kill us all!

We shall always be many, many more!


“…all that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good people to do nothing…” – Edmund Burke

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses

Details | Free verse | |

The New God

You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart beats out of your chest
Ready to consume the final climax
I know who you are - when the lyrics fail to resemble
Letting your poison drip straight from your lips
Portraying, entertaining the image of sex's delusion
You know only rape - manifestation of hate
Lack of the fruit of the beauty of a human mind
Depths you'll never penetrate!

She was only a doll - type of a lost father's adore
Impaled into a desperate whore
Shamefully out of broken safety's  choice 
She bore embryogenesis of morose
May your rusty blades caress as they please

So confront the masses with the halt of embryogenesis
Let the worship of machines be
Leg them construct us cell to cell
Nature's just in the way
Of our race of perfectly engineered machines!
The burden of conception
Surrenders to the will of
The New God

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen

Details | Blank verse | |


Keep me safe wherever I go,
Whether through places of sand or snow.
Save me when I am in danger,
Guide me to the right strangers.
Help me wherever and whenever, 
Help me keep it together.

Keep me safe wherever I may be,
Whether I am held captive somewhere, or elsewhere roaming free.
Save me when I am stuck,
Bring me better luck.
Help me travel, 
Help my dreams and goals unravel.

Copyright © Marissa Faries

Details | Rhyme | |

Sky-Falling Gold

Some complain of snow

Some complain of the cold

But what falls from the sky

Is much more golden than gold

Blessings from the sky

Yet we turn a blind eye

We instead express our disgust

When we could turn our sins into dust

We could pray to alleviate someone’s pain

But instead we scowl and frown on that rain

We could thank God instead of making a fuss

(It’s not like He’s throwing rocks down at us!)

A time to be grateful,

Yet we just complain

We could be making precious du’aa

For major beneficial gain

But it’s easier to grumble

Roll your eyes and shake your head

You may regret not taking advantage of this

When you’re long gone and dead

Don’t delay being

Grateful to your Lord

Let your heart live out

The ‘alhamdulileh’ word.

Copyright © Aya Salah

Details | I do not know? | |

The Odour of Excess

The Odour of Excess.

Sitting together,
smiling benignly,

sipping coffee,
flaked with 24-carat gold-leaf shavings,

their empty souls,
always on the prowl,

to sate,
the latest cravings.

"sell all your jewellery, and give to the poor",
revolutionary words, uttered by His son,
Jesus of Nazareth.

Well, we all know what became of him,
when we see God's Sacrificial Lamb,
stuck up on cross to bleed out and to die.

And today, two-thousand years on,
we are drenched in the rivers,
of the crocodile tears,
that His people on Cable-TV do cry.

It reeks of ostentation,
and of smug conceit,

for their hollow piety stinks,
as they suckle on,

and bite down hard,
on capitalism and greed's raw teat.

"pay your workers before the sweat on their brow dries",
so said the Prophet of Islam,
Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him) in Arabia,
more than fouteen-hundred years ago,

and while they will slaughter me in an instant,
if I were to curse his name aloud,

they dishonour him,
each and every day,

as they sip,
on their designer coffee,
flaked with 24-carat gold-leafed shavings,

masking their crassness,
by screeching their prayers,
five times a day,
and ever so loud.

They stink of money,
and their odour reeks,

wafting across all lands,
lingering on for weeks.

Now some will say,
that I envy them,
and thus I am sore,

but honestly now,
let's ask a question,

was this what God the Merciful had in mind,

when He sent His Son,
and all His Prophets,

down upon this earth for?

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses

Details | Light Poetry | |


I created the dawn, i made the dusk,
I coloured the flowers, and sprinkled them with musk.
I created human and all other particle,
Nothing lies in the world which is not my article.
Everywhere am I, for I created all,
From the flowing rivers to the mountains that stand tall.
To help the helpless, to cotrol the strong,
Truth is my principle, which shall protect you from the wrong.
I took many incarnation, one of them is you,
Why do you feel alone, come out of the blue. 
I am standing strong, just look beside,
Your choices are, what I decide.
If life is awful and gives you a bad feel,
Happiness will come, just follow my will.
I created the world on the principal of equality,
Why using my name you all perform brutality,
Caste, creed, religion, you dont need these run,
Love me solemly my child, for all gods are one...                                                   
                                                             -'panchi' Panchal Hitesh D.

Visit: for more

Copyright © Hitesh Panchal

Details | Rhyme | |

The Glass Jar

Life is a glass jar almost ready to fall.
Here God stands, hands supporting it all.
We gather around to watch in pacts,
Because we don't have the strength to act.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin

Details | Prose | |

A Modern Fascist Truth

If you think, we're safe in U.K. beds,
You couldn't be more wrong.
We've been an island race for 1000s of years,
Where's our fighting British gone? 
When did we stop marching? 
What's keeping us at home?
What stopped patriotic chanting?
Britain First can't be on their own.
If you want the UK, A Muslim state,
Our blood is on your hands.
Pretend like you didn't read this,
Bury your head back in the sands.
Sand which our ancestors died for, 
They gave their lives to protect.
Safeguarding us and the rest of the world 
from the last bunch lunatics, 
They murdered those dissimilar,
From their messed up version of man
Previously known as nazis...
The new threat is called ISLAM.

Copyright © Michael Kirk

Details | Idyll (Idyl) | |

Speaking Soul

  it's time ... our beginning .... our ending
I hear them crying...
as they carry me on their shoulder...
placing me gentle like mother touch,.... down...
I hear their footsteps leaving now... slowly...
 A hopeless sign  start to engulf the atmosphere...

Starting from the womb of my mother...
witness the changes of seasons
from rainfall in spring, to sunshine in summer
.....from falling of leaves in autumn to withering in winter 

As a cold shivering runs through my spine.... 
and a chilling wind begin to blow within my soul....from head to toe..
my last breath escapes from my lips...
It's time to leave and I must go....and meet with its eternal fate..
so it's true ... every soul must taste death...

Beginning of new chapter for my soul... one that is forever..
ripping what its sow... at last , its come heaven or hell..
decide which now... do not delayed...bow down and pray to Allah(God)..
for you will end up in the tomb of the earth as your final destination..
p.s. oh Allah forgive all our sins and have mercy on our soul 

Copyright © Rukiya Bashir