Tag Archives: Madd Cold

Vindication For The Black Sheep Is Inevitable: One Year Since Anti-Parasitic, Truth-Seeking Hero Nick Spero Passed On

by Jonathan Azaziah

Nicholas Spero saved my life. And waking up everyday knowing that this courageous soldier of truth and justice, my beloved brother and one of my closest and trusted friends, is no longer on the physical plane after departing it on this day last year, and so young at that (43 years old), is a cross almost too difficult to bear. There’s a hole in my heart and a hole in the world because of it–as Nick was a champion of the downtrodden and a knight against falsehood. There were (and are) very, very few built like him.

It was July 14th, 2017. I was yammering away with my cousin in Baghdad when the phone calls from Nick started coming in. I didn’t realize it until I hung up that he had called me almost 30 times. When I finally rang him back, he picked up and the first words out of his mouth were, “You need to get your ass out of Canada right now. They’re coming for you.” He sent me the link. B’nai B’rith and the Hate Crimes Unit of the Montreal PD had just declared war on me because of my album “Eternally Husseini”. My mug was all over the local news. “Anti-Semitism” and “Hate Speech”, not to mention “incitement to violence”, were the accusations. He was right. The Monsters, with the full force of their Shabbos Goy “law-men”, were after me. Had Nick not notified me right then and there, and had I just gone on my merry way, I would’ve been too late to get out. I’d be in a Canadian ZOG dungeon right now, not writing to you on this somber occasion. I’ll say it again: Nick Spero saved my life.

Continue reading Vindication For The Black Sheep Is Inevitable: One Year Since Anti-Parasitic, Truth-Seeking Hero Nick Spero Passed On

Imam Khamenei Is My Leader… And He’s Yours Too

by Jonathan “Madd Cold” Azaziah

Because of you, the rubies are redder, and the emeralds are greener…

The sapphires are bluer, the golds are golder, and the stones that don’t normally glisten are bolder now, they’re incredible beamers…

You turned hopeless mopers into hopers, molded us into warriors and coached us into raising up the next generation of rebels and dreamers…

Our general-teacher…

In your eyes, we see the liberation of Al-Quds and Mecca, down to the sands where those Guards (R.A.) were left disheveled in Mina…

In your words, we hear the echoes of the Martyrs (R.A.) from All-Time, the ones who gave their lives fighting against the Dajjalic terrorism spawned by the Zio-American Caesars…

And in your presence, we are children, overwhelmed by your revolutionary essence yet sustained, we’re never confused and never beleaguered…

Reflection of Imam Khomeini (R.A.) and the progression of his genesis, in your light, we are as Awake as Awake can be, never are we ever akin to jinn on sedatives either…

Sent by the Most Merciful, Most Beneficent (SWT), our merciful, beneficent, astonishingly intelligent and benevolent Leader…

You bled for the people…

Continue reading Imam Khamenei Is My Leader… And He’s Yours Too

The Pharisees Are Still Mad, Ya Hugo: A Poem For El Comandante Chavez (rip) On His 6th Martyrdom Anniversary

by Jonathan “Madd Cold” Azaziah

From a Mud Hut, most humble and lovestruck, you rose from nothing…

A poor, mixed boy with a baseball dream…

To a revolutionary legend that saw the Monsters’ ploys and strafed all schemes…

3isa al-Masi7’s (A.S.) point man in Latin America, there’s no discussion…

I’ve seen your smile put stars to shame, the glow that you glow’s robust and…

In spite of the Dragon breathing down your neck with a fire that’s so disgusting…

Feeling the burn, but your skin didn’t char in the slightest…

A superhero, too burly…

To be pushed around by the Hebraic men and Jew-girlies…

That dictate hegemony and and assassinate anyone tarring and marring their vice-grip…

You stood, threw bolts of Pure Resistance like an angel-gunner, and from your harp there was lightning…

Avatar of Bolivar…

Hands, feet and mandibles of José Gabriel Túpac Amaru…

Soldier, nay, General of the One God (SWT) and His Brightness…

The sparking and heartbeat…

Of José Martí…

When you spoke, the Earth trembled ’cause you survived every hardship and crisis…

Continue reading The Pharisees Are Still Mad, Ya Hugo: A Poem For El Comandante Chavez (rip) On His 6th Martyrdom Anniversary

When Paradise Was Born: A Poem For Lady Fatima al-Zahra’s (A.S.) 1404th Birthday

by Jonathan “Madd Cold” Azaziah

Our moral compass, you so are…

The Zahra (A.S.) is the combined Nour of every known and unknown star…

And through your example, we seeds will become trees and grow large…

A Forest of Fatemiyoun, an Army of Photons…

Blessed be the day you were born, ya Kawthar (A.S.)…

Guided by your Hand, see our uniforms? It’s sewn on!…

He who angers you, angers Al-Moustafa (S.A.W.W.), so he who angers you is a low dog…

Scream your name at the oppressors even with a tongue cut, a jaw broke and a nose clogged…

Lost in the plots and woes imposed against us by our foe, ZOG…

But you mentor us and center us, like Islamic Sonar…

Blessed be the day you were born, ya Kawthar (A.S.)…

Continue reading When Paradise Was Born: A Poem For Lady Fatima al-Zahra’s (A.S.) 1404th Birthday

Dear Hajj Imad Mughniyeh (R.A.): Now 11 Years Since Your Martyrdom, We Pray For The Day You’re Avenged In The Galilee

Dear Hajj Redwan (R.A.),

Knowing that today is the day you were taken from this world by the accursed and self-proclaimed-“chosen” enemy, I can feel cracks, ever-so-tiny but ever-so-jagged, snap off inside of my heart. That you were snuffed out with a car bomb in the Kfar Sousa region of Syria’s Damascus at this time of the year is a sign from the Most High (SWT)–because the winter does indeed feel a few degrees colder and the hypothermic gusts pierce through our skins down into our bones with a bit more ferocity. Like the flames of the explosion that mutilated your blessed, resistant frame weren’t embers, but manifestations of freezer burn. How is it that we have gone 11 years without your physical presence? A tear drips from my right eye and turns into an icicle, hitting the ground and shattering like the aforementioned shards of my heart. Two more drip from my left eye and transmogrify into ice-bits just as quickly. I can’t stop the lacrimal river. I also don’t know if they’re from sadness or fury. What I do know though is that I miss you and miss the feeling of security knowing that you were out there confronting the Beast. Making it tremble. And planning the Counter-Hegemonic Bloc’s next triumph.

Continue reading Dear Hajj Imad Mughniyeh (R.A.): Now 11 Years Since Your Martyrdom, We Pray For The Day You’re Avenged In The Galilee

Gutter To The Glory: Shahrokh Zargham (R.A.), The Malcolm X and General Hurr Of Iran’s Islamic Revolution

by Jonathan “Madd Cold” Azaziah

Scion of the streets…

Guarantor of the guck…

Maven on murder…

Marvel of the muck…

Patron of the filth…

Don of the block…

Gangster of gangsters…

Thug of thugs…

The guns and the drugs and the desires for crime were his flock…

Poverty hardened him, like water to cement…

Prison concretized his hatred…

The SAVAK torturers tried to shatter him but couldn’t make a dent..

Continue reading Gutter To The Glory: Shahrokh Zargham (R.A.), The Malcolm X and General Hurr Of Iran’s Islamic Revolution

On The Wings Of Angels: A Poem For Imam Khomeini’s (R.A.) Return To Iran 40 Years Ago Today

by Jonathan “Madd Cold” Azaziah

Sent by ALLAH (SWT), On The Wings of Angels…

Whole of the planet blinded by the luminosity of the blinging halos…

Like a package of dynamite that brought down the pillars of oppression…

Like the hand of a lone survivor reaching for the sky through the spillage and the wreckage…

Like the blade that disconnects the head of a tyrant…

Like the sage that redirects a fledgling lion…

Gives him meaning, gives him the way, facilitates his path…

Shapes his skills, strengthens his faith and shapes his wrath…

That’s what he did when he returned home On The Wings of Angels…

All the plots of the Empire and its puppet king were mangled…

Continue reading On The Wings Of Angels: A Poem For Imam Khomeini’s (R.A.) Return To Iran 40 Years Ago Today

Lebanon, Syria, Palestine: Triangle Of Triumph

by Jonathan “Madd Cold” Azaziah

The enemy says it’s a wretched void…

Where ghosts gather in a rather ragged and jagged batch of eclectic noise…

But as I walk towards it, I see the best of boys…

And the best of men, moving with perfected poise…

It’s the nexus point…

Triangle of Triumph… Continue reading Lebanon, Syria, Palestine: Triangle Of Triumph

Stoic As Your Father: Through Ali Hojaji, A Sufyani Slayer’s Son, Imam al-Mahdi’s (A.S.) Legacy Persists

by Jonathan “Madd Cold” Azaziah

You’re the reflection of your father’s face…

The essence of the martyr’s grace…

The average boy would cry, dejected from the trauma’s pace…

Instead you’re as stoic as he was when his head was disconnected by marauders’ hate…

That means though you’re just a baby…

You’re in possession of the same Nour that touched your dad and struck Khomeini (R.A.)… Continue reading Stoic As Your Father: Through Ali Hojaji, A Sufyani Slayer’s Son, Imam al-Mahdi’s (A.S.) Legacy Persists

A Poem For Al-Saud’s School Bus Massacre In Yemen’s Saada: “Bloody Coloring Books And Backpacks”

by Jonathan “Madd Cold” Azaziah

Can’t even breathe right…

At the moment, I don’t see days, I only see night…

And I don’t mean those with stars and Luna Blaze…

I mean those engulfed in blackness, choking on scars infused with rage…

Bloody Coloring Books and Backpacks all in my vision…

So many bodies, so much innocence killed…

Trying to find the names of every kid who’s been spilled…

Anxiety sets in, the agony of every victim we feel…

I’m shivering, quivering like they’re with me, like they live in my quill…

Bloody Coloring Books and Backpacks, I’m appalled and I’m sickened…

On a school bus they were, on their way to summer camp…

When the warplanes came and razed their summer plans…

Despicable oppressors claimed it was okay, they were allayed, untroubled and…

If it had to be repeated, they said they would, inhuman tools of Zion and slaves of Uncle Sam…

Bloody Coloring Books and Backpacks, if only they took longer on that most gorgeous of picnics… Continue reading A Poem For Al-Saud’s School Bus Massacre In Yemen’s Saada: “Bloody Coloring Books And Backpacks”