ripping her to shreds

I really wanted to write something.

But I am also extremely tired. So perhaps tomorrow.

He ripped me to shreds yesterday. Either Mercury went direct and that's why, or Mercury was still in retrograde and that's why.

He's stuck and doesn't want to grow as a soul and that's why communication between us has always been stalled, stilted, hard. Just like with the other boy.

I'm so done with this. Half the stuff he told me, he does himself and doesn't realise it. What's so agonising is the fact that we're stuck in this stupid canteen talking when there are always other people about. Privacy goes out the window.

What a shambles. I'm not inclined to write a poem about him. I finally gave him his birthday present because I was on a high with the frequencies.

I just found (when you need it) a solfeggio frequency for connection and relating so I'm listening to that one. For myself.

Yesterday felt like I had such a sucky interaction with him. You can't get past the masculine bravado and I had tried in the beginning and he was holding me hostage to that version of myself. I mean, once again, as much as I try to be 100% myself, there is an energetic restriction coming from this relationship. As much as we can have similar tastes in things, and a similar view, it's just.... bs.

And it's taken me so long to feel all the pain of this.

Back in April 2015 when i went for my first crystal healing with Sacha, she had mentioned a murky green energy around my crown as a soulmate energy. Green usually means healing, and in the end it is good, but it's also murky. And I knew it was him.

Harshness. An invisible wall.

He's the same soulmate energy, but if Immy was the first version, Nav is the 2.0 version. I can't get through. I'm not meant to get through. And I'm "too much" for him only because his behaviour and energy kicks me off. Triggers me off. I said as much on Monday, and he immediately said: so I'm a pistol then. Fuck. Always distracting from serious and intensity. I hate that. Sometimes a person can be too witty and just not grow up. Over confident. Know it all. And not let me be who I am.

To be honest, until I fell out of love with him last night, I was probably still that person. The person who wanted to merge and be with him.

You can't reverse being loving, especially when you don't want to.

There has been a montage of all my life events flashing in front of my eyes.

He will never see that. He will never have the experience of seeing me at my worst.

So to criticise me for my introverted behaviour is just wrong. To not seek to understand and to pretend you're giving constructive feedback is wrong. This is one thing I really dislike about him.

Thank you, Allah. I have been praying for the last three weeks for You to make me fall out of love with him.

Yesterday's so-called conversation killed it for me.

He did say that I am a unique person and he's never met anyone like me. That's a first. And that it was a compliment.

All my mind said was: huh, well, you haven't been meeting the right people then, have you?

Repeated scenarios of a man whom I love with my big heart and him not listening, not understanding, energy closed. I showed him my soul plan that day because I was buzzing with energy and wanted to share that part of my beliefs with him and all he said: well, to me, all this looks like voodoo mumbo jumbo.

And I finally said to God: enough with the false flags and enough with the false falling in love with people I'm not really in love with or meant to be with.

So many crap relationships: Immy, Ay, the customer guy, Nav... and the Somali colleague who keeps ignoring me, and giving me the creeps when he stares at me intently, and the Bangladeshi guy who's 18. I make him nervous. Poor thing. They try to impress me by being "cool", which ends up them being in an inexplicable dysfunctional male mode - which is such a turn off for someone like me.

On Monday, I really SAW how unbelievably harsh he can be when he's in his ego. Just like I can be, and I became so because he ignited this anger inside of me. Because he kept all of this secret for 16 months instead of telling me right at the time of my "crime" that "hey, you're asking me too many questions, please don't."

He isn't shy. He doesn't have qualms of speaking up for himself or disagreeing.

I told him, "you didn't tell me because it wasn't important enough to you to give me feedback to as a friend."

That's what has pissed me off. Why can't you just tell me? Do I come across as that unreasonable?

Just like how my father is. Split. Generous and kind on the one hand, then flips. Keeps it all inside. Why? Then vomits it all out in one go, without any compassion at all.

And then when I do it, since he seems to be able to take it, he says I don't beat around the bush. That I'm very to the point.

As if that's a bad thing. Like, how much time does he think we have to faff around, to waffle around? Scorpio and Aries are both direct.

Part of me was like: what, so you want me to be duplicitous like you, Mr Gemini? Or take ages to make a point? We all have different talents, yet for some reason this didn't seem to be understood by him. I can't fault him, like my ego would like to.

In 2010, ripped Immy to pieces and then God not only took him away from me, but God took away my sanity so many times to make sure I never repeat that mistake with any of his creatures again.

I still do, but it is repressed. My judgements are still there, and they attack my sanity.

With Nav, it's just not worth the pain and energy. He's just another guy.  Because Immy was the first, it pained me a hundred times more. We also have a very intense and stubborn karmic lock.

The difference this time is that, alhamdulillah, Nav is just another extremely stubborn guy with only half of the awareness he would need to be in a real relationship with me. Not that he wants to be with me. He has NEVER felt like that. EVER.

And, ha ha, that's kind of important in any relationship. The other soul actually has to be willing to engage.

Nav is just the second guy I actually could speak to on my level, then I found myself dragging myself down again. The environment of the supermarket is such a seductress. I dumbed myself so much and to extricate myself from this mess is taking long. Just because my ego is greedy for the annual bonus that we will get inshallah on 26th February.

Whoever said that Gemini and Aries suns would get along was a liar. And that he has a Moon in Scorpio is funny. He can't see it. And I like a fool tried to teach him. Fool again.

Not just with him, with J, Faiz, Ay... all of them.

I think now the fairytales are being ripped apart, I know that this is real life. Most of them don't care, and most of them will never activate their soul plan in the way mine was. They will do it organically, just by being human. God has given each of them a lot more energy than I currently have.

That's what happens when you're recovering from another bout of depression. You lose contact with the real world. And make an utter fool of yourself. Because of my fascination with the occult and energy and higher realms, I lose my sight of the man standing in front of me. I see his soul, not how he currently sees himself.

Shimmering souls. But then, my viewpoint changes and, all of a sudden, I no longer see them as souls. And I see their human selves and judge.

This really needs to be balanced out now. I'm a grown up soul now. Please, Allah. Please.

Give me someone who doesn't need to give a running commentary about every single happening, whose eyes stay locked into mine when we are speaking, instead of flitting about to someone else just because he is a Gemini. So annoying.

And then not having the guts to continue a conversation, to be kind and hold the space for my anger and frustration and grief... I still didn't tell him how much I've cried, because he won't allow me that freedom and that truth.

So he deflects to another colleague spends 15 minutes chatting about stupid football and then walks off without saying goodbye. That is rude and it is not cricket.

Not for me.

He was hurt that I said it feels he is always making fun of me. He wanted to clear up the miscommunication, but then lacked the courage and it was too intense for him. Fair enough. I like pain, I guess. After he left, I wrote a bit and waited until I could feel the hurt and pain beneath the anger and then I cried for 15 minutes. I'd have cried more, but the awakening processing was so strong I am still quite dehydrated.

I know I deserve a real relationship. Or no more false flags - whereby my imagination doesn't create romance when it's just an intense learning process with a masculine energy. At least I am learning not to take it personally. It's just being humans with one another. And one of us remembering finally, and the other still in amnesia. Well, more in the dark than I am.

I guess this is why I had to wait for so long before telling him I loved him. Because I would not have been strong enough to handle his shit earlier; You saw how I was with going to Turkey and going to Egypt. I was still so fragile and I needed love and affection from him.

I actually needed it.

And now, I know better than to flirt with men find I love and am attracted to. Or rather, there must be someone who won't mind, and will actually get turned on by my flirting method. And who won't make me feel very unsafe and nauseated like men make me feel.

I had written "all for the greater good of learning to keep your mouth shut."

But that's not the point. I will choose differently, make a different decision.

I know who I am. I am the me I want myself to be. Those versions of J Lo, of Christian Aguilera, the versions of women being real women. Empowered and also feminine and also masculine.

The author, the one who writes truth in a wry, witty way. The one who also speaks with authenticity and courage. The one who does Latin dance and anything she bloody wants to. The one who earns money and travels and loves fiercely and is given room to be herself. Free to be proudly bisexual and a sexual being, even if she's all theory and still no action quite as yet.

And if Nav can't handle it, I will divert my truth to myself. And to those who are conscious. He's on the brink of consciousness, he's actually more like U now I think of it. And I was ten times more a moron and shy and weird with U. God knows how he put up with me. But then that was fake, too.

And I've just realised if my Moon in Scorpio and Scorpio ascendant has such a Marmite effect on people and attracts men like bees, then Nav also has that same magnetic charisma...  his Moon is in Scorpio too. So I couldn't help it, in that sense it's not personal. I'm not the first victim. That's why he gets fed up with me. And also why I couldn't help myself.

Enough of this bs.

Energetic prisons. All my relationships with men fell like energetic prisons.

All stemming back to my relationship with nana, my dad and my mother.

He hated all the questions I had asked him in the beginning. He actually didn't like the forthright way I flirted with him. I had said, you can't help yourself. I couldn't. It was same with Immy. I couldn't help it. It was automatic. When I want something, I want something and why would I hide my love and desires? Makes no sense.

I told him, look, there was a good reason behind my asking the questions. And trust me, I won't be asking any more questions.

And I won't. We only have a month left with each other. Only see each other once or twice a week. Always start with fakeness, hello, how are you? Or Miss Juma.... he tries so hard to be suave and intelligent, the git. Can't see his own rawness, and his own rough edges... the Scorpio parts, and then when I'm encouraging him to be more real just with my own behaviour, he can't take his own shadow. Well, tough shit.

We were never compatible. God just likes me to be furiously in love and attracted to men I can never be with. Never able to be with them, distant. Karma.

Whether or not the vision I had about WW2 was accurate or not, I must have just been so cruel. To feel this pain in my heart, and to continue to shed these tears and be this frustrated.

It hurt my heart. Physical burning that only stopped when I distracted myself with Zumba earlier today.

Don't fool yourself any longer, Sukaynah.

You'll be leaving in a month and have nothing to show for it.

Well, not nothing. A generic souvenir from Dubai which you'll probably keep until you get annoyed because it's such a generic crappy gift and give it away.

The thing about life is that it really is as stupid as it sounds sometimes.

I got nothing except a few memories and some suffering and hurt. Took me 16 months to tell him because I was scared and the circumstances dictated there was nothing I could do. So I just got frustrated, and I over ate and got depressed and stressed. Giving him puppy dog eyes every time I saw him and him giving me his manic smile, the smile he gives everyone.

And he really could care less as a man.

It's really saddening for my heart, especially when he called me overemotional.

It was Immy all over again.

I don't like it and I deserve someone who can allow me to see him and him to see me.

For some reason, after Zumba today, I became flirty with a much older guy working at Hammersmith on the TfL. I was relaxed and felt more safe inside of myself.

I ask for my childlike innocence back, and the confidence I had. Please. It's mine after all.

At least, one thing I will grant is that he had been ignoring me all those times because my mood was off and so he didn't want to talk to me out of fear of what I'd say.

I acknowledge that people can get scared of me. Especially since they don't understand my love for them would change my behaviour. There is so much affection for him in my heart, yet he blocks it and just can't FEEL it. It's funny. And it's how I've been most of my life.

Behaviour and moods are not static, especially for a light worker. But he won't get that. Perhaps never.

Thank you, father energy.

Fucking hate it.

Makes you doubt the femininity in you as something valid. When in that environment, my me-ness goes out. The divinity, or my truth is diluted, and I believe in his reality.

Pakistani male programming and too much intellect and not enough gut or heart.

We delude ourselves, then we ask to be woken up.

And we lose the people we love the most. Again.

I've booked a counselling session at the Wimbledon Guild because I recognise the familiar signs of going under. I'm not saying I am weak, I'm saying I fall hard and I don't want to be contemplating walking in front of a car on a road like I did three weeks ago.

S had made a joke on the last day of the soul spa when I was trying so hard to become a psychic.

A couldn't read the energy of my small book and it was partly my fault because I was being smart and gave a book I'd hardly used instead of something with more of my energy on it. Scorpio, lol. Not playing the game or making things easier for the poor person.

So took him ages to figure it was me.

And she made a joke: if you can figure out her complicated energy, you're good. You'll now be able to figure anyone else out.

It's just that my 12th house also has Scorpio in it.

Even I can't figure myself out.

So stop trying. I stopped ages ago.

I will go feed some Syrian babies now, or help some kids on ChildLine. Or actually look for a job in London. Or Bristol or Bath or Bournemouth. Or Southampton.

And take a long bubble bath with salt. Body still is smashed after the Awakening on Saturday.

Can't be bothered with this shit any longer.

I had told him "there's so much stuff I have experienced, I can't even explain it."

He asked, "is it all that you've told me that I know or something else?"

So I said, "Some is what I've told you and some is what I haven't. I can't even tell you half the stuff I know, because you wouldn't understand, you're not ready for that information."

It's like something happens, you change your world view and are like, wow, I never imagined that was possible, and it is.

You know you can't really be intimate with someone you can't share your world with. Who doesn't really care either way.

And who will never want to share his world with you.

Next!

*** Edited on Wednesday morning so its much more coherent ***

For Further lnstruction

Mevlana museum, Konya

It has just occurred to me that I've been in the midst of the storm.

Four and a half years ago, my teacher had told me he saw in me in his vision as he healer me, in the Blue Mosque in Istanbul.

It never even occurred to me whilst dashing off to Konya. I simply forgot. And something beyond me - whether it was simply fears, patterns, destiny - all made me stay put in Karatay, Konya the entire time.

Perhaps I received a transmission of pure love energy each day without perhaps realising because I was trying too hard to be pure and pious.

Trying hard for inner peace, for clarity, to become grown up, to be the intrepid explorer but instead my heart melted when seeing the peaceful dogs and the decidedly fat sparrows on the pavement.

My heart wanted to speak to the people and say tessekur ederim (is that even correct?!) all the time.

The Blue Mosque never occurred to me until earlier today. Then I felt a sense of "Oh, crap! I missed it."

But did I? I know parts of my essence were in Konya and are now rightfully returned.

There will be lots said about people, but what I experienced was a feeling of belonging and value that I perhaps haven't felt elsewhere. Not even in Kampala.

People saw me. And when they didn't, they saw at least the physical part of me. And when they didn't... I was alright with it on the inside. One makes the silly mistakes by trying too hard or feeling too tired.

Or being too blind...

I prayed a lot. I prayed my salaat every noon-time, with mevlana and his students buried before me. Then I realized had I the light within, I could have expanded even more.

Some things are binding and have to be lived through. The disappointment with self is to be matched with the kindness from Self.

Letting things come. We forgot that.

The heart gets mangled and armoured in this confused city I live in. I spent fifteen years of my life visualizing and wanting so desperately to be here. And I finally have realised that this was a foolish child's dream. It was a karmic lock, I ihad to meet certain souls and they would not have travelled to me.

So I had to travel to them.

It isn't London I desire, it is peace, freedom, harmony, functionality.... Abundance in all forms.

I've come back and the solitude doesn't feel so oppressive because the important bits of me are back.

Pain loses its edge.

I found teachers on my path and a desire to really have forward progression. The earthly teachers, of course, have their role in my life. I also deserve celestial assistance in very real forms now.

I prostrated and asked Thee for succor. I've begged for remembering and for forgetting.

Whatever the celestial alignments are, I don't seem to care. We're in Scorpio now, the bane of my life.

Just return to me. It serves neither of Us for me to be under veils or to have such binding beliefs that somehow I missed out on that part of creation that is in unity with Thee.

Perhaps because it used to take years for me to manifest.

Perhaps it is because of the frequency and vastness of loss.

I've been seeking embellishments upon embellishments in a world that encourages it.

In essence, 

simplicity is my core.

I relinquish all yearning and seeking and duty at Thy feet.

If something eludes me... 

I didn't learn the simple truth.

I gave my power away again and that's not helpful.

I allow myself the life I didn't up until now.

It's not even as though it's impossible.

Allow the truth to flow and feminine grace.

Trying too hard with dates and times and alignments and moons

Perhaps diminishes from the majesty of the fact that

I am whole even when I receive zero validation.

Integration of scattered parts is needed 

as I don't feel inclined to heal others at this time.

I relinquish the need for words. 

My instruction will be in full silence 

and all of time is heavenly.

When I saw Najaf written on the departures screen in Istanbul, my heart bled. 

But I reassured it when the time is right 

and when I'm strong enough to be around conflict, 

I will travel there
for further instruction.

Sukaina Juma
21.10.15

Green Canvass Shoes

Green Canvass Shoes

Waxing moon
Yet I am losing and letting go
May this fragile ego accept how
Everyone who was dear to this heart
Has gone
Traversed the Red Sea
I am drowning in

For five years I have been eating my grief and anger.
His name still fills me with unknown terror
My heart still shakes in the abyss

Her name fills me with rage
Lump in my throat equals
Cords in my stomach

Lies. You ought to have known the lies
By the looks in their eyes

Maybe being purer than most
Means being stupider than most

Illusions of movement and progress
Only to be contrasted by
A dark silent room
Single lit candle
Silently doing the Bands of Power
And hoping it works this time

Because my legs feel like jelly
I felt attacked being outside around people
And another life has ended.

He looked forlorn last week.
Mostly it would be my imagination.
But at least he inspires me for my short story.

Maybe it's him I wrote about five years ago.

He looked like he really wanted to speak.
I wasn't inviting that day.

I have my own insecurities, you know?
It pisses me off I am still so scared and shy
I won't smile
I won't ever say hello
But feel the heartbeat go irregular without any just cause
Save your presence
In your savvy suit and green canvas shoes

(I can't wear canvass shoes any longer
Due to a protruding bone in both of my feet
Yet another paternal gift)

I was having another sucky day.

The married guy was back and I had to pretend I hadn't noticed
he'd been away for a month creating babies.
Correction: hiding the fact he was creating a baby then disappearing when she was due.
Liar.
All Geminis tend to manipulate and hide. All of them.

So I wasn't entertaining lame silent gazes.

I wear a lime green uniform and am contortioned
into a role that is sucking away all my vitality.

I feel ashamed. You can be intelligent as heck, a healer,
educated and mess up so badly,
every day is a struggle to speak and to be your true self.

You're probably another harsh lesson who will leave me
after I've given my essence to you.

So why entertain someone who ignores me?

So he looked on forlornly.

Rumour has it he's engaged to be married.
I sure have ridiculously horrendous timing.

Instead of getting soul retrievals,
it feels more of me is dying
and being siphoned away.

Just like me, doing the opposite!

As a light, we seem to always have to clear, heal, protect...
What a life. What happened to being?

To all of them I hold grudges against,
thank you for helping me.
I don't know how... But the energy shifts.

I don't like it when boys look sad and forlorn, by the way.
It makes me want to scrunch up their hair
and tickle them to cheer them up and make them smile.

I do have kindness.
I'm just still messed up like all of us.
Perfect aura is an illusion
I now admit to having.

I'm having a serious chat in the higher levels.
Enough of the bs.
Thank you.

Sukaina Juma
- 27.07/2015

Remembrance

Sukaina Juma

25 July 2014 · 

 

Surely there are people who have chosen REMEMBRANCE instead of this world, so that neither buying nor selling diverts them from it.

~ Imam Ali (a.s.)

What is really cool is that remembrance is more multifaceted than we have been led to believe. So, once you open up your heart and energy to something even more profound, expansive than you've allowed yourself to experience, you pop open an entirely different universe. Every time you remember who you truly are as a multidimensional, powerful soul, the more you awaken the inner prophet and recognise yet another facet of your Lord. 

Rejection and approval both mean nothing, because you have accepted yourself wholeheartedly. You like yourself and you love yourself infinitely. You are your own guru.

Let's keep remembering and reminding each other of who we all truly are and why we are here. Diversions are many, but the pure, shining, beautiful ones are those who keep reminding each other (Faiz Ahmed Faiz, Rabba Sacheya).

Just felt like sharing that :)
Much love xx

For Mere Trinkets

Danielle MacKinnon

2 hrs ·

We're still in a "stuff is going on behind the scenes" period so don't freak out that everything isn't clicking together quite yet - there is a lot happening that we all can't see and it's all for our benefit. Want it all to show up faster? Spend time now enjoying yourself! That speeds up the "good" coming in!




*****


This sleeplessness is a sickness... which turns into sleepiness and the soul continues to trail behind everyone else.


I just began to listen to Coke Studio Season 6. Oh, if my life was different, I could at least be a backing singer for Atif's Channa. My God, chaa gaye again.


http://youtu.be/Se3YjfBCVbQ


Well, at least my prayer to find new music to stir my soul into action has been answered. Thank You, Allah. Seriously. You know how music is an integral part of my life.


Atif Aslam also got married last year and recently had a son. This is all news to me. After all, I've been under a rock for thirty odd years. It saddens me that my life distances me from all of this. I had prayed so hard to somehow meet him when I was in Pakistan. Now I understand how could I, he was busy becoming a father. I've lost out on so many things, all in order to gain a soul and a heart that is filled with the love for Allah. Once that happens, then all this celebrity and fame,  I won't really care.


But until then, my ego cares. I saw what I did to myself in Pakistan.


We don't really love them, we love the shadows they portray us. If we were channelling fully and training in the arts and expressing our inner essence in totality, they would not feel somehow above us, or somehow better than us. They would honour our light just as much as we honour theirs. We would hear the cheering wherever we walked, rather than dote over someone else who found their own unique channel.


The decent, humble teachers constantly remind themselves that it's a group effort, and that they are nothing in their identity. That it only for the grace of God that they are who they are.


The arrogant ones, like myself, are then forced to fall.


The light dims from my eyes,
the rust congeals upon my heart,
my soul is in agony,
and the simplest of things...
are difficult to create, to bring into existence.


All of this is done with Love.
Your heart is so precious to me,
I cannot let you regress or retard...


I doubt this Allah.


I have perpetuated a cycle of self abuse, violence, deprivation, stagnation, blindness and ignorance.


Not only am I disconnected from the purity and the life that is the true core of Islam, I am disconnected from myself and from the outer world.


It is a full moon and I am least bothered about going outside to meditate.


I am encaged, whereas others travel without a royal butt kicking, take the healing courses they need to take - such as ENLP and Sidra's course and Divine healing and Soul Plan Reading and


My heart really wants to go into music and singing, learning the piano or violin - is it too late, not really. But all I find myself are in strings and chains.


For the most part, all of my dreams seem to be just dreams...


The full moon is in 12 or so hours and I'm meant to be doing releasing and allowing. That's what we do, consciously. I just can't see, to want to do anything, just so tired and cannot concentrate. Maybe that is the releasing.




******


An hour later.


Wow, I was listening to Paimanah Bideh by Zeb and Haniya, and wanted to post on Facebook to honour my shedding of the last remnants for the full moon. Suddenly have a craving to be seen. Very full moon like behaviour :p


Then this flowed through.


WOW.

http://youtu.be/gIi6vf4433A

In honour of the full moon in Capricorn (tomorrow, 1pm - ish BST), which is about healing and honouring the divine feminine. I love how I've been doing it without realising I was doing it, hahaha.

I honour my inner divine goddess and the inner romantic urges... I allow my emotions to wax like the ocean's tides, I heal those parts that are still festering, and I melt those frozen parts of my heart. I clear all contracts, pacts, karma, beliefs that keep me and anyone else stuck and unable to move and progress and expand. I unleash my creativity and my gifts and talents, for music, for dance, for expression. I remain silent and allowing, and nurture those aspects which need it.


Innocently enough, it began.

A gentle hum
of sweet innocent kinship
 
My light shimmers in your eyes,
because I reflect your brilliance in my smile.

You fear I will devour you entirely,
and I fear that I shall lose myself and
succumb to your charms.

We both say we love God,
yet we both know our lips betray our true intent.

We lie.

We feel ashamed at our weakness,
that we have made each other our god,
and the cravings increase with each nuance, each sigh,
each healing glance,
each murmur in the throat,
each careful caress of the pliant hand.

This tenderness will be my death.
I try to run away from it,
leaving my sandals at the tombs of the saints
resting upon the bloodied, purified sands.

I cannot hide,
the people on the streets can smell
the scent of my devotion a mile away.

The smoke of ardour is hardly ever hidden well.

"There goes the crazy one,
She has lost her senses.
She glides upon the earth,
we cannot see her footprints anywhere.

She stands in the sun,
yet casts no shadow upon the earth.

The junoon has her fermenting all over.

This young, shy, naive grape
is fermenting.

She is becoming wine,
a deep ruby red,
in just a fleeting instant of being
crushed under Love’s feet.

She has now become intoxicated
with her own image of beauty,
charm, tenderness, endless peace and tranquillity.

Let us go near and drink of her nectar.
Let us become immortal within her lilac flame.
Let us become divine just by gazing upon her
as she gazes at the stars in the dark, still nights.”

When you run too far from the beloved,
the beloved becomes tired of chasing after you.
It is easier to love someone who
knows how to receive it.

The mirrors all shatter,
and distort the truth for even more lies.

And, years after a continuous falling back asleep and being
shaken awake, until the veins bleed,
the chosen woman finally understands
that the divine is a benevolent, yet jealous benefactor.

Anything that takes her away from Him
is seized without warning,
leaving a trail of regret, harsh words,
unforgiveness,
and unfulfilled vows.

She prostrates upon the dust.

She becomes dust,
crushed under the weight
of aeons of solitude and confusion
until, finally, she looks up and
instead of crying tears of blood

her vision has been cleared with saltwater
and everywhere,
she can see the One who needs no one but Himself to sustain the All.

The forms change, their essence remains.

Slowly, slowly, her heart opens again
and the Beloved is her, her saviour is within her -
and they are magnetically drawn to her once again.

Yet, this time, it matters not what they do.
The repeated patterns are evident, amusing,
both those of hers and those of the Other.

As long as she reminds herself to remain true
to herself and her Lord,
she will remain safe from further humiliation.

She may have to pinch herself every day
to remind herself.

Yet, her battered feet have travelled upon shards of rock,
her skin has been ravaged by the desert winds
far too long
for her to now forget Who She Is
and revert to her former state.

Her gift to them is the knack to love with a sincere
o  p  e  n  n  e  s  s
that is also her very protection

To be loved sincerely and truly in return,
with them seeing her as her truth.

This is God’s grace.

To demonstrate the profound good opinion God has of you,
to reflect His deep, soft, undulating
sweetness,
so that your curled bud may
unfurl into its full glory.

“We have written it all in a Manifest book”.

Yet, she is the Book, the writer and the reader.
As is each of us.

A mirror has mirrors too.

When everyone remembers
they are their unique version of the light,
and each of very high value,
how can any sense of inferiority or superiority exist?

Open your palms to receive your own light through this vessel.
Let the words scrawled upon the page refresh your eyes,
so you may see....

And although she grieved,
those she lost came back to her in different forms.
All the more dear.
For their worth has been realised, as has her own worth.

And, this time, We remind ourselves
We do not gamble or trade the love of our Beloved,
for mere trinkets any longer: a glass of wine,
a life of companionship and mercy,
many a whispered word of tenderness,
respectability,
conformity,
functionality...

Be the state you wish to feel.

Be Love, then you will experience it.

Be Peace, then you will exude it,
causing their eyes to water at the sweetness
of willow,
of honeysuckle.

Be the healer,
the vessel, the channel:
then you will understand
your true worth.

~ Sukaynah Juma, 11 July 2014


WOW.

The Wrist

THE WRIST


Who are you? The inner vision of consciousness?
The heart? A sacred half-light, are you that?


Do you grow gatherings? Are you a friend
of the sun, who comes and goes so quickly?


Do not forget your vertical passage,
the night of power,
and don't hide from the one
for whom all our secrets are down in the pillow under
his head, doctor of lovers, soul
for this thick world,
the one who spirals iron
like dough and makes the body lightedness.


No belief is necessary to enter this tent
where one love story changes to another.


I remember that with these words brought here
by a falcon from the wrist of Shams,


~~~~~~~~~


If the beloved is everywhere,
the lover is a veil,


but when living itself
becomes the Friend,
lovers disappear.
 ~ Rumi


****


And therein, lies the real quest of my soul.


REMEMBER. REMEMBER. REMEMBER.


You are meant to be in society, but you do not have to be like any one of them.


That is NOT your role, so remind yourself once more.  Quit falling back to sleep.


And ask for where to go from here, because you are running conflicting desires.


Either desire to shift  entirely and be down with it, or desire to fulfil your tasks here and learn the lessons that they annoyingly tell you you aren't learning.

If the beloved is everywhere,

the lover is a veil,

but when living itself

becomes the Friend,

lovers disappear.

I burn with the love that I lost/ When I lost you

I can't remember if I posted this earlier on. I went through a phase in winter of watching as many Beverly Hills 90210 episodes I could, mostly the ones with Brenda and Dylan in them. I find those scenes the most fulfilling to me.


In Season 3, Dylan reads this poem out, with Brenda in his heart... :)


With you, the earth was a bed of grass
We slept in it like two seeds
With you, I was more than I am
Your mouth, the sun
Made everything possible
I burn with the love that I lost
When I lost you


~ Jack Grapes

the Tyger's jaws

the Tyger's jaws (temporary title)

What does it take to not be a lemming in the world?
To be free to be yourself?
To feel safe to speak, to see, to hear....
What does it take to inspire yourself?
Outside of parameters, systems, rules, myths, laws of attraction, protocols,
And all the rest of it?
What does it take to remember who you are?
That young girl who went to Canada with misty eyes full of hope?
They opened an entire world to her,
Full of Romanticism, analysis, kindred spirits,
Potential, never really actualised.
North America, for all its faults, has an ever expanding energy.
You go there, you feel liberated, like the eagle.
Nothing to do with amendments, laws, spying.
Just Earth. Mountains. From sea to shining sea.
A yawning canyon that swallows up whole the entire calm sky.
A drawl that loosens the inhibitions.
Fantasies perhaps.
Yet, pioneering in a sense.

I always think I've understood,
I've caught on to the elusive fabric of reality.
An eighth energy centre, sparkling clean.
They say I live outside my body too much.

I can't seem to paint upon this canvas,
nothing meaningful,
Droplets, squiggles, a half hearted pear.

I do not remember agreeing to this,
nor do I understand how I could be so blind and closed up, walled in.

Yet, here I am, this husk of a woman,
Breathing before you
Disoriented.

I have forgotten all.

"Where are my soul friends?
Where is the flint to ignite my fire?"
She asks forlornly.

Who are those who truly understand? Hopes, dreams, passion... ou-etes vous?

Sometimes, we agree to things,
To delay things.
To abstain.

To attain vertical height and levitation,
To do acrobatics in the higher realms,
at the risk of any horizontal progress at all.

We forget that both are possible,
And that self punishment and self denial,
and this unbearable sense of pining for that which has been lost,
Or for that which will is not to be.

Is futile.

Futility in existence...
And yet,
Lilacs bloom every spring.

And she remembers how Chicken Soup for The Teenage Soul
saved her life. 
Continuously revived her,
After countless mini deaths.

The ones who artfully sliced her heart,
then mended it with cookies, milk and
a book for teenagers going through angst.

Poetically messy and artful in decimation.

When do we stop regenerating as lemmings,
and start Being fearless individuals,
unswayed by energies and stardust pelting down upon the earth,
unceasingly, cutting up into ribbons,
then carefully piecing us all back,
raw, bloodless,
Real?

Time and space do not exist.
The cycle is endless.

First, there was the Word.
And then,
Chaos reigned.

Such is the pattern.
There is measured kindness melted into
the Tyger's jaws.

~ Sukaina Juma, 6th February 2014

merging

Life felt mystical, in a dream.
The liquid indigo seeped into her pores.
A sense of infinite peace, beauty and tranquility permeated.
Urdu poetry called itself into her awareness.

She felt like laying down on soft, sultry, seductive tufts of green grass.
Giving in to the night, succumbing in entirety.
To be caressed by the wind.

The next tram to Wimbledon screeched to a stop.
A lot less packed with humans.
She stepped into the metallic cage as the doors slid shut.
And drifted safely home on the tapestry of safety and reality or illusion seeping and merging.

The veils were certainly thin that night.

The stars beckoned again, the moon undressed her yielding body until she lay trembling in ecstasy, begging for more to fill her... more to fill the void.

She came multiple times with only the temptress a witness to her whimpers, groans and orgasmic screams.

All she wanted was to make Love to the Universe, to become Whole.

All she wanted was to become alive on this earthly plane.
To rebirth herself.

To do it properly this time.

The merging of male and female is necessary before any birth can occur.

***

First attempt at fiction this year. I just need to let go of fear and allow the words to flow.

A mere plot device

Right now, she allows the dark tones and lyrics of the song Atlantic wash over her. A few hours prior to this, her body had curled into a tight foetal position in an empty office. She had clutched onto her stomach and wailed out the hurt, the betrayal, the grief that wracked her being.

The triggers don't really matter.

It doesn't matter if it is a small child, an older man, a young handsome fella... God uses all people and all souls as mere plot devices.

She played the villain in so many other people's stories.

And... she was tired.



I hope all my days
Will be lit by your face
I hope all the years
Will hold tight our promises

I don't wanna be old and sleep alone
An empty house is not a home
I don't wanna be old and feel afraid

I don't wanna be old and sleep alone
An empty house is not a home
I don't wanna be old and feel afraid

And if I need anything at all

I need a place
That's hidden in the deep
Where lonely angels sing you to your sleep
Though all the world is broken

I need a place
Where I can make my bed
A lover's lap where I can lay my head
Cos now the room is spinning
The day's beginning

atlantic... keane

She Walks To Thee Barefoot

She walks to Thee barefoot.

Her destiny is changed:
she now seeks Thee on this plane of humanity, 
of duality.

Thou asked her for so much.

To love unconditionally in the places where there was none of Thy light.

Thou asketh her to love herself first. 
How does one love oneself with the passion and the purity 
as Thou dost?

How does she keep her soul intact, 
her dreams alive, 
her love a never-ending source of comfort and softness
to those who seek her out?

She walks to Thee barefoot...
on the sands of Kerbala...
on the sands of Turkey, Egypt... 
all over the world she seeks Thy face.

She walks to Thee in trepidation,
for she is nothing as You envisaged.

She is broken, she is mangled,
bits of her being are still embedded in the hearts of others.

She needs release... she cannot find it.

Please bring her back to the place she calls Home.

Take her back into Thy arms... she finds great comfort there.

Thou art the only recourse when all else falls away....

Why is there such separation, such emptiness?

I ask Thee, of my free will, to bring me back to thy pathway, 
to prostrate to Thee on the muddied turbah that brings my heart such peace.

Ala bi dhikrillahi tatma'3inal quloob...

Your child seeks Thee, surely you cannot deny her her home again? 
Surely Thou art the Merciful, 
the One who brings her to Thou holiest of places and anoints her 
with the powder of Holiness, of sanctity

Of Purity....

She seeks to become 
Taherah... 
Zahidah... 
Saajedah....

Deny her not.

You did not deny those who love Thee, nor those whom Thou loves....

How can you deny the sinner,
the wretched, the unoriginal,
the blind, the slave to man,
the one attached to this world and all the illusions?

The ignorant are in more need of Thy love than those who know.

I walk to Thee barefoot...
may I soon fly to Thee with glistening wings of light...

This is not what I had thought my pathway would be.

Allah... ou-es Toi?
And Who Am I?

Sukaina Juma
24 March 2013