Islam is Peace

Similar to the struggle of self-identification and the tumultuous journey of the muslims in Iqbal’s complaint and answer, this poem expresses my spiritual journey and struggle to maintain faith in dying religious world. The poem also explores my relationship with God and the inner conflict between eternal submission to the creator and indulgence in the worldly pleasures of life. Iqbal writes the complaint from the viewpoint of Muslim’s who have lost the power and wealth once associated with great Islamic empires and leaders of the past. They feel as if God has given up on them, as other religions and cultures are thriving with economic and political success during the poem’s time period. In the complaint, Iqbal goes against the Islamic traditions of prayer and submission to one’s Lord, by complaining to him and questioning his current judgement. I use this aspect within my own poem, by questioning and complaining to God about the current successes of those who oppose his message, while I adhere to worship and still struggle to achieve purpose and success. Why am I not heralded for my religious efforts and positive goals? Throughout Iqbal’s “Complaint” he seems to lose his identity by giving up on the ways of those who came before him. It is as if he shames his fathers because he has not been bestowed the same worldly luxuries as they were bestowed. Again this reinforces the concept of individualism, where one who truly believes does not question the plans of his Lord, whereas the weak struggle to suppress their desire for superficial, worldly goodness. In my case, my true intention sways between worldly fame and submission to my Lord.

In Iqbal’s “The Answer” he combats the earlier complaints from God’s point of view, stating that the muslims have ignored religious practices, compromised their identity, and essentially lost “the way.” Iqbal criticizes the points in the complaint by comparing “the complainers” to the muslims of the past stating that the current muslims avoid brotherhood, refuse to hide their brothers sin, wroth with one another, abandon and caste away the Quran, and doubt the faith. He points out adoption of other cultures and religious views by Muslims, writing “Christian is your mode of living, and your culture is hindoo” stating that Islam is a way of a life and muslims have abandoned this coherent for “easier” paths. Iqbal then states that ” The communion of Islam lives on because the poor are true” returning to this idea of individualism and identity creating an interest paradox as the ones who are truly struggling are the only ones who remain true to the Islam. Thus one can only truly appreciate Islam and identify with the faith by suppressing worldly motives and desires and realizing that hardship and struggle in this life does not mean God has given up on you. My poem shows that one must search within themselves to discover their true identity and replace their love for this world with the love for Islam, God, and his prophet. Furthermore you must eliminate the concept of the “self” in order to truly find “the way.” My worldly struggle and strife to please others and be heard leads to the ultimate demise of my own “self” leading to the realization that life is merely a vessel for the soul, whose imminent release relies on ones ability to spiritually eliminate the concept of the self.

Through My Veil

What makes me different from everyone else/Do I even know myself/Through self reflection and distorted direction/Should I pray for affection rather than protection/Will the next election matter on the day of resurrection/Maybe I should pray for protection/From the surrounding society/Focused on propriety rather than self piety/Why do I sit alone these nights and contemplate/When everyone is out drunk, salivating at Satan’s plate/While I remain…alone trying navigate through this subconscious state in which no one else seems to relate/Is it wrong to dream of setting the world straight/This beautiful creation that in turn creates hate/how am I supposed to dictate when society is in this state/Where Gods words rest under dust and lil Wayne’s are considered great/Maybe its fate that I’m standing on this stage/Maybe one day this will all change/And they’ll stare shocked in disdain/Starting to pray nothing to gain/Face to face with Heaven’s master, no more satan’s grace/A lost being amongst a lost race/Summoned to the vilest of places/Embraced by the faceless racist/Who previously preached hate to man/Now he’s covered in flames like a crucifix of the Klan/Burning, cursing, raping/Escape from this place/Then surrounded by grace/And greeted by the angelic face/Am I any less a Human being/Because I prostrate in front of a Lord unseen/During this realistic dream/Surat al mustaqim/I embrace it/Yet some disgrace it/Should I remain complacent/When the wealthy spend thousands on facelifts/While impoverished children starve in basements/I pledge to erase it/To take advantage of my blessed placement/Yet how do I save it?/trying to decipher the code like da vinci/but I’m simply driving myself to insanity/Speaking against vanity, yet inadvertently indulging in its pleasures/Praise me, raise me upon the pedestal/measure me up to Alexander and Moses/paparazzi flashes and red carpets dowsed in roses/Maybe now they will listen/As the light glistens off my face unto a crowd of millions/I speak…and weep upon the stage/my tears one with the Quranic page/my ears deafened to the crowds rage/Handgun to head/No time to run/I stand firm like Malcolm/awaiting the inevitable outcome/as the bullet hits my chest/Laillahu Ilallah Muhammad a rasullah…my last breath/I stare in the face of death/As the crowd goes wild/I smile upon the masses/As my soul is set free/It doesn’t take glasses to see…that now they will finally listen to me

~ by zaossey on April 22, 2014.