The man who committed 99 Murders

On his 99th Murder
he heard someone say
"you'll be punished tomorrow
for the crimes you did today."
So he went to a man
who was respected and good
Told him what he'd done
would he be forgiven if he could?
The man shoook his head
and quickly he said
"Hell is made for people like you
God'll punish for the people you slew"
So the man said "oh well
if my final resting cell
is that fiery pit of hell
I might kill you as well"
But he still felt blue
With the fact that he knew
He was not worthy of Allah
And the tears fell down his face
As he felt out of place
In the house for Salah
Someone heard his weeping
"What painful secrets are you keeping?
Why are those your tears that are seeping
through your clothes?"

It was early in the morning at four,

When death knocked upon a bedroom door,

Who is there? The sleeping one cried.

I'm Malkul Mawt, let me inside.

At once, the man began to shiver,

As one sweating in deadly fever,

He shouted to his sleeping wife,

Don't let him take away my life.

Please go away, O Angel of Death!

Leave me alone; I'm not ready yet.

My family on me depends,

Give me a chance, O please prepense!

The angel knocked again and again,

Friend! I'll take your life without a pain,

Tis your soul Allah requires,

I come not with my own desire.

Bewildered, the man began to cry,

O Angel I'm so afraid to die,

I'll give you gold and be your slave,

Don't send me to the unlit grave.

Let me in, O Friend! The Angel said,

This is what I often think about when I'm hungry.

The Tummy Beast

Roald Dahl

One afternoon I said to mummy,
"Who is this person in my tummy?
"He must be small and very thin
"Or how could he have gotten in?"
My mother said from where she sat,
"It isn't nice to talk like that."
"It's true!" I cried. "I swear it, mummy!
"There is a person in my tummy!
"He talks to me at night in bed,
"He's always asking to be fed,
"Throughout the day, he screams at me,
"Demanding sugar buns for tea.
"He tells me it is not a sin
"To go and raid the biscuit tin.
"I know quite well it's awfully wrong
"To guzzle food the whole day long,
"But really I can't help it, mummy,
"Not with this person in my tummy."
"You horrid child!" my mother cried.

“I envy the sand that met his feet

I’m jealous of honey he tasted sweet

Of birds that hovered above his head

Of spiders who spun their sacred web

To save him from his enemies

I envy clouds formed from the seas

That gave him cover from the heat

Of a sun whose light could not compete

With his, whose face did shine so bright

That all was clear in blinding night

I envy sightless trees that gazed

Upon his form completely dazed

Not knowing if the sun had risen

But felt themselves in unison

With those who prayed, and fasted too

Simply because he told them to

With truth and kindness, charity

From God who gave such clarity

His mercy comes in one He sent

To mold our hearts more heaven bent

I envy all there at his side

The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set --
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone's place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they're hypnotised by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink --
But did you ever stop to think,

It's more than a piece of clothing, it's symbolic of faith.
It shows you're a Muslim and the risks you're willing to take
It shows you're not afraid to outwardly express your submission to Islam...
Some even claim it's integral to Ihsan.

It's clear that it's compulsory
and obligatory to all Muslim girls
and indeed thousands wear it.... all over the world.

But where does it say in the Qur'an...
that the Hijab makes you superior?
Or that you have the right to judge criticise and put down
all those you, for that reason, deem inferior?

In fact it's not ENOUGH to wear the Hijab...
you have to mean it too.
But who is anyone to judge?
Though it should be accepted, that that includes you too.

Whether she's bikini clad
or covered in a full body veil...

Empires have risen and exacted their might,
Words changed and twisted.
What once meant evil,
Had its meaning heisted.
So call me a terrorist.

You huff and you puff,
And you blow my house down.
You break my back,
But I still won't lie down.
So call me a terrorist.

You strike, torment and bully,
Just because she wears the veil?
You seem frustrated,
Seeing her faith isn't for sale.
So call me a terrorist. :rant:

Saw my brothers die across the sea today,
You said not to worry about the dead.
I can't seem to help the fact,
His cries keep ringing in my head.
So call me a terrorist.

You bribe me with gold, silver and green,
Promise me the moon and the sun.
I'd reject it in a heartbeat,
Just to be closer to the One.
So call me a terrorist.

I didn't write this... but I really like it for some unknowable reason.

He enters the room.
It is white.
It smells empty.
There are no windows.

At the far end
two buttons, large red buttons, are mounted on the wall.
One is marked: Regular.
The other is marked: Premium.

He crosses.
Examines.
No further instructions.

He thinks for a moment
reaches out his hand
and presses “Premium.”

A buzzing sounds,
as from the ceiling
a massive cloud of bees is released.

They converge upon him.
Stinging. Stinging. Stinging.

He flees,
panicked,
remorseful,
yet strangely satisfied.

In this book
With your little eye
Take a look
And play “I spy”

Each Peach Pear Plum
I spy Tom Thumb

Tom Thumb in the cupboard
I spy Mother Hubbard

Mother Hubbard in the cellar
I spy Cinderella

Cinderella on the stairs
I spy the Three Bears

Three Bears out hunting
I spy Baby Bunting

Baby Bunting fast asleep
I spy Bo-peep

Bo-peep on the hill
I spy Jack and Jill

Jack and Jill in the ditch
I spy the Wicked Witch

Wicked Witch over the wood
I spy Robin Hood

Robin Hood in the den
I spy three bears again

Three bears still hunting
They spy Baby Bunting

Baby Bunting safe and dry
I spy Plum Pie

Plum pie in the sun,
I spy everyone!

When u wear the hijab you feel good
Caus you know its right
But when you put on your tight fitting clothes
The angels take flight
And stop singing your praises

You’re caught up in the middle
Being Muslim and western
Your mind knows that its Allah u should obey and follow
But you’re confused
About which pill to swallow
And you try and follow the middle path
Even though you know their aint no such thing
But you just can’t resist not wearing bling

You’re young and vulnerable
In a society that’s just corruptible
Taking advantage of your naivety
Models with size 6 and 8 clothing
On the billboards and magazines
Brainwashing you

It’s hard to resist
And they persist
Pictures everywhere
Nowhere is safe
So youve gotta buy those clothes