Long Allah Poems
Long Allah Poems. Below are the most popular long Allah by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Allah poems by poem length and keyword.
Honor of two universe
Master of all prophets
To your love i am candidate
I put down my life and my head
The Sultan, The Evidence, The Reckoner
The Alive, The Alive, Allah he is
Nightingale of garden of truthfulness
Rose of the four righteous leaders
He is Abou Bakr supreme of saints
Pioneer of all Sublime lovers
The Sultan, The Evidence, The Reckoner
The Alive, The Alive, Allah he is
First of Allah believers
Ali the king of the valiants
Moved with the bright faith
Broke the Khaybar's gate
The Sultan, The Evidence, The Reckoner
The Alive, The Alive, Allah he is
With the love of those ones
Make your body dissolved
That Hasan and that Husayn
Pioneer of all Martyrs troop
The Sultan, The Evidence, The Reckoner
The Alive, The Alive, Allah he is
Written by Mahfi
Translation Onur Ünlü
Toxic
The malevolent man was in control of everything.
He was put there by forces beyond the peasant's capabilities to prevent.
There was a war, seen and unseen,
behind the curtains that sway still...
in the wind.
How did this happen?
Someone left the back door open,
and evil came right in
invited by the janitor,
and welcomed by the audience at large.
Just after it happened...
There were a few, that left the building or tried to go,
while others ran upstairs to the balcony to watch the show...
in secret, if they could.
There is nothing that happens in the dark,
that is not revealed in the light.
The spectators, the audience, the viewers, and the listeners...
are quite suddenly drawn
to the moving shadows on the stage
that fell from the ceiling
slowly like a fog,
a consuming living thing,
released.
As it touched them,
some cried out,
some remained silent.
All were made less.
It was not so much their bodies, as their minds that were eaten.
The real toxin giving rise to killing them,
and taking their souls.
That was this morning.
The stage is set for the afternoon customers.
The earlier ones,
have all gone home if they could,
while others did not.
Tickets for sale,
for this night, and all the ones after that.
Don't buy,
or go in,
even for free,
as you may never leave.
RATHER HALF WIGS OR GLUED
WIGS THE MEANING OF
THE CROWN OF SCABS
STARTLED GOD THERE ARE
REASONS FOR WIGS CANCER
BRAIN INJURY SCARS BUT
NATURAL HAIR IS THE BEAUTY
OF ESSENCE OF NUBIAN
GLOW I LOVE MY NATURAL
HAIR ESPECIALLY SINCE I
HAVE TO GET INJECTIONS
EVERY MONTH WHAT A
WASTE OF MONEY TIME
ENERGY I LOVE MY NARTUAL
IRISH ITALIAN AFRICAN
AMERICAN CHEROKEE
CURLS THE IRISH TRULY
OVER LAPS ALL OTHER
CULTURES THAT BLENDED
TO CREATE ME I NEVER
REALLY KNEW WHY MY
GRANDMOTHER BRUSHED
MY REDDISH BLONDE HAIR
WITH COFFEE TO DARKEN
THE IRISH NOW MY IRISH
CURLS OUTSHINE EVERY
CULTURE THE WOMEN
OF ZION WERE CURSED
WITH THE CROWN OF
SCABS FOR MATERILISTIC
ARROGANCE WEARING WIGS
ARE A SIGN OF DISGRACE
CONSIDERED AN ORNAMEMT
OF STATUS GOD SMITED
THEM WITH SORES ON
THE SCALP THEIR FOREHEADS
WE REMAIN BARE FROM
WEARING WIGS AS ORNAMENTS
JEWELRY GOD PUNISHED
THE DAUGHTERS OF ZION
WITH SORES ON THEIR
HEADS THEIR FOREHEADS
STILL BARE RATHER EXPENSIVE
AFRICA BRAIDS EXPENSIVE WIGS
WEAVE WE ARE IN THOSE TIMES
OF JUDGEMENT TODAY THE
DAUGHTERS OF ZION OWNING
HAIRLINE STARTED FAR BEHIND
THEIR PERTRUDING FOREHEADS
THEY WAER HALF WIGS WE SEE
THE SIGNS 86 PERCENT OFF
THE COST GOES UP TO THOUSANDS
OF DOLLARS TO SEW IN HAIR GLUE
IN HAIR TO LOOK MAKE POOR
WOMEN LOOK WEALTHY CURSED
BY GOD HIMSELF WIGS BRAINDS
ON EVERY CORNER EVEN
I EMBRACE MY IRISH MOSS
LOOKING RED CURLY HAIR THE
BEAUTY OF MY FACE ILLUMINATES
HONORING GOD NOT TO BE CURSED
WITH A CROWN OF SCABS WEARING
A CROWN DOESN'T MAKE YOU
A QUEEN ITS A SYMBOL OF GODS
CURSE UPON THE PROUD ARROGANT
WOMEN OF ZION BEING A NATURAL
BEAUTY PLEASES THE LORD
I EMBRACE IT I OWN IT
I AM CARRIE KEETON
MANY SENIORS DURING COVID DURING THE GOVERMENT SHUT DOWN SO MANY SENIORS OPTED FOR RENEWING DRIVERS LICENSE ONLINE OTHERS EYE SIGHT HAD CHANGED A LOT WITH CATERACTS ON THE RISE IT COULD BE DEVESTATING RENEWING ONLINE FOR SOME WAS SIMPLY FEAE OF NOT PASSING THE EYE EXAMS HOWEVER IF THEY HAD UPDATED INFORMATION THESE CHANGES WOULDN'T JUST ROLL OVER AND SENSE THE RENEWAL LAST SEVEN YEARS ALOT OF IMPORTANT INFORMATION MAY NOT APPEAR ON THOSE LICENSES MY ELDERLY UNCLE AFTER COVID LEFT HIM VERY ILL SUDDEN ONSET OF DEMENTIA LOST NEARLY A SILVER ALERT HE RENEWED ONLINE AND STILL HAD TO MAKE AN APPOINTMENT WITH THE DMV TO UPDATE PERSONAL INFORMATION ESPECIALLY EMERGENCY CONTACT INFORMATIONS ALWAYS MAKE SURE THIS IN CORRECT IN CASE OF TRADGIC ACCIDENTS INJURY OR OTHER MEDICAL CONDITIONS ON THE ROAD I COULDN'T BELIEVE HOW CROWDED IT WAS TO MY SURPRISE MOST WERE ELDERLY COUPLES WHO RENEWED ONLINE THEY WERE STUCK FOR HOURS JUST TO UPDATE PERSONAL BE INFORMATIONS EMERGENCY CONTACTS THAT HAD CHANGED BE VIGIL MAKING SURE ID CARDS ARE MAILED TO THE RIGHT HANDS MY HOME WAS INVADED BY THIS ONGOING JAMAICAN TALIBAN IDENTITY THIEVES PERPUTRATING FRAUD UPON MY ENTIRE FAMILY DEVESTATING TO SAY THE LEASE MANY ARE CARING FOR ELDERLY LOVED ONES ITS CRUCIAL TO IN FINDING LOVED ONES BRINGING THEM HOME SAFE IF THEY JUST WALK OFF AND FORGET THEIR WAY BACK HOME AGAIN GOD BLESS OUR SENIORS STAY SAFE UPDATE EMERGENCY CONTACTS ALWAYS REACH OUT TO SENIOR COMMUNITY FOR RIDE SHARES TO GET TO AND FROM THE DMV SAFELY
Breezy mind
And sparkling eyes
Dwindled him in the upper skies
But HE was right
Where light above light
Recited an Ayat
Allah (SWT) is alright.
A leader of the leaders
For the all times
Led a night prayer in the mosque
Of Baitul Muqaddas
HE was kind
In dealing with others
Met the messengers
Who were coming past
Exchanged greetings
And chatted with each other
HE had seen many things on his way
Such as torment of the Jahannam
And the happiness of the Jannah.
So, breezy mind
And sparkling eyes
Dwindled him for the all time.
Holy Angel named Hazrat Zebraiel (As)
A trusted companion for the all messengers
Was with Him upto Sidratul Muntaha Square.
Now, There is no barrier
No worries, No mourning
Only friend for friend
And the friend for friend
Comes close to each other
And starts transmitting messages
Year after year.
What Party Are You?
Huh?
Does it matter?
Who I voted for?
I am alive,
so it was legal.
I have not been dead,
for thirty years.
Surely that is enough.
If I tell you this or that,
you will condemn me
for the weather.
If I stand for the innocent,
you will strive to make
me ashamed.(or try too)
A common courtesy shared
by many… once.
(empathy for the weak,
kindness for the innocent)
Now only protected and
cherished by a few.
Similar to freedom,
herself.
The fact that I voted,
in the last elections,
should say volumes about
the desperation of the times.
Not that I do not vote,
each and every chance I get,
as I do.
It is a privilege,
and a right…
Thank you to OUR forefathers.
Now…
I find that I am angry,
and I never am.
I find that I am unsure…
and I do not like it.
I want to raise the flag of my country,
and tell my neighbors to do the same,
or perhaps, it will be too late,
to raise anything at all,
including our own children.
Don’t badger me as I watch bad things happen.
The people I once trusted for the news,
live on lies and eat dust for dinner,
the truth of their own smoke.
They have jumped ship willingly,
or perhaps meandered away…
Little difference in the end,
to the people they once faithfully served.
Now they take turns, laugh and make jokes,
at the expense of the nation herself.
At the expense of her people,
the ones still left with non-stolen ID’s.
The small ones, with small jobs,
like; the postman, the baker, the grocer,
the maker of pots and pans,
the soldier and the officer,
the fireman, and the chief.
The homemaker, the parent,
the pastor and you.
“They” call us names,
and do it still.
“They” repeat gossip and lies,
like it is truth and fact,
gold and silver,
materials to build a crown,
to an unknown as yet…
disguised, evil
in plain,
sight still unclear,
for now.
What party?;
the one that stands for freedom.
the one that stands for the weak.
the one that is not afraid,
and knows, “In God We Trust”
are not just words.
I am an America.
God Bless America.
Amen.
To the Circuit of Energy permeating the garden, sustaining the canopy permeate
Washing through with waterfalls, cascading rivers, and upwelling springs the fermement
Was magically darkened when Eve took her classes at Satan’s grove
Where one tree (or gate or pedestal) stood, and the devil appeared like hand in glove
To capture her attention, draw her away from her programmed obligations
Little did she know that the devils deal would lead to abnegation
Of her rightful role as a helpmate, swquaw and poets wife
To rule as co-creators, in innocence, with her husband – Adam – and without strife
Although the invitation to new knowledge might have raised her curiosity peaked
‘Perhaps’, she thought, ‘only to have this new experience’ would raise her from meek
Humility. And give her new insight into helping her man: new insight new skills
How was she to know that the tree of good and evil would not fulfill
Any decent role in sustaining the garden, or giving of strength
Had she known that she would be banned from paradise, and removed a full length
From the easeof leisure, the peac of pleasure, which passes all understanding
What a tragedy then, when she engaged the devil without comprehending
The consequence of taking that fatal action, to partake
In the fruit and lust of the wicked tree: when after she began to fake
The full collapse of her station to assist the 1st Man, her original matrimony
She had, perhaps unwittingly disrupted her union with man, and sundered its harmony
With the role of Adam as a spokesman and poet was now broken
The life from before, when he merelyspoke and observed had become a token
Memory. Speech itself a vestige of what life had been when it was perfect
For Eve had introduced vast new knowledge through her dalliance when the devil depicted
A fuller knowledge of all the trees of the garden once fecund
Now all that once gave life in full, a mere second
To Eves infinite question; to probe the everlasting and to question
From what source, and what deep came the gall of God’s order not to mention
The mercurial things that she had seen in Eden, the sweet lull and whisper
And perhaps her fall, the devils gambit settled the mist-in-her
somewhere in Italy our planes landed
we were greeted by poor Italians
some so young i don't like
what this war has done
back home i was such the ladies man
here i share food with four kids and a man
he lost his wife to the Germans
lot's of men are alone in solitude
the bombs fly by biting chunks of Italy
i guard my post alone
for my platoon is almost gone
i feed the rest to keep them alive at best
a lot of them has begged me to end life
they suffer so I eat with a knife
somewhere in Italy no medals I need
thee Italians are sick and poor
an yet there is still greed
I would be ok if I could save just one
somewhere in Italy i sit with my gun
today in Rome tomorrow's war
is back home
Written by Mrs. Yolanda Joy Nicholsen 5-14-2004
2610 providence street Fort Myers Florida
revised 8-10-2004 3165 riverside drive Fort Myers Florida
When I was lost, consumed in fear,
My confidence shattered, my heart unclear,
I thought the pain, the hurt, the sorrow,
Were signs of a bleak and hopeless tomorrow.
But then a blessing, disguised in pain,
Led me back to my Lord again,
And now I see the truth so clear,
In every test, Allah is near.
I used to question, complain and whine,
Blaming the world for every decline,
But I've learned to trust in His mighty hand,
And accept each test, as part of His plan.
For Allah tests those who say they believe,
And He helps them stand, He helps them achieve,
The strength and patience to face every trial,
And rise above, with steadfast denial.
So I thank my Lord for the pain and the hurt,
For pushing me to Him, and opening my heart,
And I pray that He forgives me my sins,
And grants me Jannah, when this life ends.
A bumblebee buzzes in the family garden.
Gathering dust as it fans its wings.
But the aftershocks of a rumor pardon
Leaves the beggar bowl with fewer things.
The flowers sway in the gentle breeze.
Their petals are a rainbow of colors bright.
But the bumblebee's hum seems ill at ease.
As it struggles to stay aloft in flight.
The garden was once a place of peace.
Now echoes with a harsher sound.
The buzz of gossiping tongues won't cease.
And it's tearing the garden to the ground.
The bumblebee, with its simple ways,
Is a reminder of what's true that withstood.
But the rumors and lies of current days,
Are a poison that's spreading through the neighborhood.
So let's tend to our gardens with care.
And nurture the beauty that lies within.
For when we sow seeds of love and share,
Our garden will flourish and grin.
Written: June 06, 2023