New blog! New address! New residency!

The husband and I seized the opportunity to relocate back to his hometown of Abu Dhabi. I’m officially an expat of the UAE and will be documenting my experiences abroad at my new blog. Check it out 😉 http://www.amirainabudhabi.com

i used to write.

i used to write

i had this voice inside of me screaming each day, i would figure that i could configure lines like anybody else

better than anybody else

i’d whisper them out loud in the bottom bunk of my dormitory

so many stories untold only imagined

i’d sink deep thoughts in to hallow spaces of paper pieces

i could never let them go, dared to write it down too quickly lest the lines would be imperfect

 

i used to write

i used to write love poems of my true love

every week new tales of how we found became and gave up one another

i wouldnt bother to make it G rated just capitalized on every feeling inside of me

i would hop through lines and spaces through time with the idea of being in love

it never came to fluition. i was left only with spilled ink and solid tears

i used to write

i used to write of a girl brown like me who discovered her beauty in some corner of a classroom

in between psychology theories and social research papers

then hopped between aisles of doubt and disregard

she loved and celebrated herself not apologizing for never being tainted

battered, brusied, or given to anyone. she was pure and unlike

any

other

girl

she had ever cared to meet. she was me, unique.

i used to write

writing freedom songs of ancestors that i only met through movies and documentaries of a reality all too painful to be true

my beats and rhthyms cried out from this square image created of myself.

i could give voice in a way no other knew i could. i was unlike the caged bird within

their beatings captivity freedom and pain consumed the pages of accounts indebted to their broadcasting

someone had to tell it. why couldnt it be me

i used to write

i used to free myself laying down with this grief and sorrow for the world

my eyes close with pierced lips yearning to talk again

fingers yearning to write again

heart yearning to love again.

i used to write, but love don’t love nobody.

 

-Amira (c) 2011

Lovers are Made Aware

You make a hundred resolutions

to journey somewhere,

But He draws you somewhere else,

He turns the horse’s bridle in every direction

So that the untrained horse may know there is a rider

The clever horse is well paced

because it knows a rider is mounted upon it.

He fixed your heart on a hundred passionate desires,

disappointed you, and then broke your heart.

Since He broke the wings of your first intention,

how do you doubt the existence of the Wing-Breaker?

Since His ordainment snapped the cord

of your contrivance,

how can you remain blind to His Command?

Your resolutions and aims now and then are fulfilled

so that through hope your heart

might form another intention

which He might once again destroy.

For if He were to keep you completely from success,

you would despair:

how would the seed of expectation be sown?

If your heart did not sow that seed,

and then encounter barrenness,

how would it recognize its submission to Divine will?

by their failures lovers are made aware of their Lord.

Lack of success is the guide to Paradise:

Pay attention to the tradition,

“Paradise is encompassed with pain”

– Rumi

vibin’ like

really this life is not to be wasted.

vibin’  like i’m so blessed to have good people in my life. i adore those that “make me smile with my heart.”

vibin’ like: your pain is my pain so let me help you when i can.

vibin’ like “i wish i could give you this feeling, i wish i could give you this feeling!” -K. West

vibin’ like there’s nothing more beautiful than the Truth, and surely, those that seek shall find, God willing.

  • vibin’ like my loveis unconditional so don’t present me with conditions!

and “unconditional love is scarce” -D. Marley.

vibin’ like i usually be when i’m just being me. free.

vibin’ like surely I could not have come this far on my own. and all praise is due to Allah!

.

true. ❤

I need a place to live

I need a place to live

-by Amira Rahim

I’m coming back from the UK

and I need a place to stay

Not just in Pittsburgh when classes begin

But in the world, too.

A place where I can be at peace

To be whatever part of me I decide to be.

You see, home is a social construct.

But that don’t mean I want to be homeless.

I’m looking for apartments

Prefer to live alone,

But not really alone.

Spirits connect across walls.

The heart knows no boundary.

This is a crappy attempt at poetry, by the way.

If anyone has any leads for a place for me to live in about a month, let me know. K? Thanks.

ode to womanhood

lower back pain,
strained.
take me
lower
back to that pain
full
place where the pieces,
for one small moment,
all fell into place.
this space
still here in my heart.
so much space
falling back down
deep
into every core.
memories turn into
slow
sad
unfallen tears.
i will not let them fall.
not in my lap,
unnoticed, no.
closed eyelids keep open spaces healing.
these days
time stands still
when i think of you.

lower back pain,
strained.
nerve endings cry out
hopelessly
for the solution.
one, two, three,
ten fingers aligned so perfectly
right there
till the pain goes away
trace every abandoned detail.
hands do what this heart asked,
for in the silence of those nights
muffled requests
block all attempts of purity.
how pure is this desire.
-adr

I hope you know…

That the velocity of these tears don’t compare
To how long it took my heart
To recover
When we locked eyes.

And I ran home that day, so anxious
For the next chance
To walk with you.
I had no idea that you were even more beautiful than I remembered.

And your strength still carried in how you walk,
But your eyes…
Well, they’re almost as sweet as mine:
With a protective glaze so subtle
But if anyone looked long enough
If anyone
Looked deeply enough
They’d find a passion unarmed.

I fought you with my silence.
I dismissed your existence with my ignorance.
And I almost suceeded.
Until today.

Until
Today,
I had yet to discover
That         who           you       are

isme.

I hope you know
That my heart danced those days
Long
Ago.

I hope you know that
I would have spoken to you
Iff my heart could translate the pain into a lovely set of words
That would convince you,
But, more importantly, myself,
That in those days
I was simply too young
To understand
Who

I         am.

I hope you know
That today I saw
Me in You.

too true,

Amira