Tag Archives: poetry

Why We Say DTI: 11-Year Old Palestinian Boy Yasser Amjad Moussa Abou Naja Murdered By ‘Israel’ In Gaza

by Jonathan “Madd Cold” Azaziah

This little boy is Yasser Amjad Moussa Abou Naja.

This little boy is Palestinian from the illegally besieged Gaza Strip.

This little boy was 11 years old.

This little boy was shot in the head by ‘Israeli’ occupation forces at 7:15 pm on June 29th, 2018.

This little boy was hit with a butterfly bullet which explodes on impact and grinds tissue to dust.

This little boy’s skull was shattered.

This little boy was dead on arrival when he got to the hospital.

This little boy was so disfigured that his momma Samah only recognized him because of his clothes. Continue reading Why We Say DTI: 11-Year Old Palestinian Boy Yasser Amjad Moussa Abou Naja Murdered By ‘Israel’ In Gaza

The Lyrical Menace Is Back! Promo Art For Madd Cold’s Return: Choke On Another Matzoh Ball, B’nai B’rith!

by Jonathan “Madd Cold” Azaziah

When they tell you to be silent… You speak louder.

When they tell you stop reaching for justice… You reach prouder.

When they tell you they plan… You trust that God plans stronger.

When they tell you to give up and sit down… You stand taller.

When they tell you that you belong in the ground… You say, “Soon, you’ll see me fly.”

And when they call you “anti-Semite”, you just smile and hit ’em right between their beady eyes…

with a big FTJ and an even bigger DTI!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Artwork by the indefatigable and epically brilliant Mohammad Hamza of Intifada Street)

#MaddColdIsBack #AzaziahTheAnomaly
#HipHopHizbullah #IraqiGhirasiComingSoon
#IntifadaStreet #MouqawamahMusic #InsightMedia

RIP To Ghassan Kanafani, The Palestinian Writer Who Channeled Eternity Through His Pen

by Jonathan Azaziah

If anyone doubted that the power of the written word is an existential threat to the “chosenite” power structure toxifying God’s Green Earth, then you must not have heard of Ghassan Kanafani. On July 8th, 1972, in fear of how his writings were profoundly inspiring Palestinians, the Kidon unit of the usurping Zionist entity’s Mossad, an international death squad masquerading as an “intelligence service”, detonated a car bomb in Beirut and slaughtered one of the greatest writers in Palestinian as well as modern Arab-Islamic history. From “Men In The Sun” to “Returning To Haifa”, “A Land Of Sad Oranges” to “The Revolution of 1936-39 in Palestine”, “The Apricots of April” and so, so many more, there was no genre that Kanafani dabbled in that he didn’t absolutely own with a brilliant, fluid, unique authority; that he didn’t utterly slay like it was a descendant of the supremacist thieves who stole his country. The novel, the historical, the essay, the poem, it didn’t matter; Kanafani’s ink made anything and everything glow. The martyred PFLP leader’s words were as pristine as they were powerful, as gorgeous as they were militant, as whimsical as they were raw. He didn’t write books; he channeled eternity through his pen. Every page that he completed was a sword of distinctive forging that struck blows on the false crown of Jewish Cultural Imperialism and drew blood from the invaders. For every part of Palestinian history, culture and identity that the Zionists diminished, expropriated and outright destroyed in all their Old Testament-fueled madness, Ghassan Kanafani managed to miraculously bring it all back to life through his phantasmagorical prose, as if ALLAH (SWT) had infused his quill with the essence of Nabi ‘Uzayr (A.S.) and Al-Khidr (A.S.), the Eternal Life Prophet. Continue reading RIP To Ghassan Kanafani, The Palestinian Writer Who Channeled Eternity Through His Pen

Imam Khomeini: The Seed From Which All Mighty Trees Of Resistance Grow Strong

by Jonathan “Madd Cold” Azaziah

An angelic birth…
That brought heavenly Nour to this hellish earth…
Our Noble Prophet’s (S.A.W.W.) son…
Whose life of greatness would solidify that our Noble Prophet (S.A.W.W.) won…
An orphan child…
Whose wings were magnificent, he couldn’t help but soar in style…
The winter downpour, it’s quite…
Incredible, it’s you who made the ground roar with life…
The summer’s blessed shower…
Who gave the globe’s oppressed power…
The spring’s newness…
Whose very aura was so enchanting it could bring music…
Whose fearlessness left kings clueless…
The autumn’s wonder, beauty personified…
Who sowed hope in the broken, the downtrodden and the brutally colonized…
The red rose…
Whose fragrance gives breath to dead souls…
The tiny seed…
Eternal in nature, from you grew the most mighty trees…
The giant voice…
Whose sound is so loud it crushes crowns and any and all flags that the tyrants hoist…
The thunderous speech…
That shook thrones and made corrupt governments weak…
That shook drones and awakened the dumb as they were slumbering deep…
That made the plunderers weak…
The white light…
Who made the night bright…
The black blade…
Who left the vultures, the vipers, the hyenas and the rats slayed…
Justice in the flesh…
Every attribute of Ahlul Bayt (A.S.) encrusted in your chest…
The shine of stars…
Whose vision was so strategic it exceeded telescopes that could see the other side of Mars…
The fire burning up the sires of entropy…
Who filled the Empire with enmity…
Because you made the Empire a memory…
And petrified the Zionist enemy…
To the point it began recognizing its chemistry…
As unstable, unsustainable, it wouldn’t be embedded in the future…
‘Cause the Seed From Which All Mighty Trees of Resistance Grow, said it was tumor…
Said it would vanish from the pages of time…
You were and are too amazing to ever rate or define…
Such a militant, phoenix-like, sensational rise…
Could have only come straight from the Creator Divine…
You were and are our most wonderful sage and sublime…
The instigator of historical changes that basically flowed with cadence and rhyme…
The obliterator of swine…
The maker of Revolution who gave us a reason to be unafraid and ALIVE…
Your spiritual children, those of Wilayat al-Faqih, grow everyday like they were berating the skies…
The Coast Redwood of Hizbullah, stands the highest, the most vibrant and pure…
The Mountain Ash of Ansarullah, moves untouched and achieves triumphs in the violence of war…
The Giant Sequoia of the Iraqi Resistance, fights like you taught them, so God-reliant and raw…
Sheikh Zakzaky the Southern Blue Gum, every precious word he speaks is so defiant and sure…
The Alpine Ash of Palestinian Islamic Jihad, every moujahid ready to die for the cause…
And Ayatollah Sayyed Ali Khamenei, your reflection, guiding them all…
Ya Imam Khomeini (R.A.), 27 years ago your spirit had to go on…
But you’re still here, and we still cheer and rock to your every rhythm like a classical slow song…
Ya Imam Khomeini (R.A.), because of you we will liberate our world from those who think they’re “chosen” but they’re so wrong…
Like you, the Ever-Rushing River of Truth, we will flow on…
Because you, Ayatollah Sayyed Ruhollah (R.A.), are the Seed From Which All Mighty Trees Of Resistance Grow Strong <3

Hussein al-Houthi and Hajj Moustafa: The Poetic Tale Of Two Sayyed Badreddines

by Jonathan “Madd Cold” Azaziah

Sons of Karbala, Yemeni and Lebanese
In your selfless sacrifice, you’re now together, see?! It’s destiny!
With your holy martyr blood, you laid waste to the enemies’ hegemony
And even as they concocted malevolence
So toxic, this nemesis
Noxious since Genesis, they’ve been operating heavily with devilry
You still strove!
And chilled those ill souls!
‘Till those pathetic schemes were leveled clean
Like your Katyushas had swooped in and reduced ‘em to kettle steam and severed dreams
Because your raw faith is like pure grace, you know the remedy is heavenly
Qur’anic Culture is the answer
to the Halakhic vultures and their cancer
And you both walked the path of Mouqawamah to tread and reach the mezzanine
You both waged Resistance and blazed more than a trail
You were like chainsaws and the nails
in the coffins of these savages, shattered them ‘till their entity was dead and reamed
Brought so many to this Cause of Truth, moving cleverly with enmity
towards these demons who never seem to let it breathe
in their quest to offensively and endlessly
wreak havoc on Earth and spread disease and entropy
You burning embers of Nour, you roared back relentlessly with chemistry
derived from ALLAH (SWT) to inspire Jihad for the past, future and presently so epically
Sharp as Zulfiqar, your most handsome angelic wings just yell and scream
As you soar so majestically and splendidly
And your dauntless spirits…
Live on like lyrics…
in the struggles of the oppressed, the stricken and the peasantry foreverly
Two Sayyed Badreddines, glowing so luminescently in ecstasy
Two Sayyed Badreddines, glowing so fluorescently with Heaven’s gleam
Two Sayyed Badreddines, martyrdoms mirror each other!
Like reflections so clear of each other!
Like your spirits be brothers! The comparison rings true so resplendently and specially
Sons of Karbala, Yemeni and Lebanese
In your selfless sacrifice, you’re now together, see?! It’s destiny!

Hajj Moustafa Badreddine: The Most Splendiferous Light Of A Shahid

by Jonathan “Madd Cold” Azaziah

Struggler from the Heavens, so righteous and pristine
Truth flowed from your being with the likeness of a stream
All the sacrifices you made, fightin’ for our Deen
Solidified your status as a legendary Striker of the fiends
You rained hell on their plots and dropped lightning on their schemes
Kept the enemies scared to death and frightened in their dreams
Only thing you loved more than Mouqawamah was martyrdom
And you departed from the heart of us crushing the darkness with the brightness of a beam
Focused on one direction, AL-QUDS, and getting all the demonic lycans just to leave
Not a drop of the virus left, all the lice-ridden, cowardly mice-men have been cleaved
Out of the equation by your sanctified blood, entity dies after being knifed into debris
Every step you took was to ensure Palestine was made whole, reunited and then freed
Right next to your brother star Hajj Imad, you transformed the Party of God into an army so mighty, a titan of a team!
Sayyed Zulfiqar, you were epic in every sense of it
A pure Resistance life with a brilliant mind of deadly intelligence
Your legacy’s elegant, so priceless and unique
Hajj Moustafa, we already ache in your absence
But we won’t gripe and we won’t grieve
We’ll celebrate you as one of the greatest-ever slayers of dragons
Salute you every day and every night for all the heights that you achieved
‘Cause you’re still with us, too sublime to die, but so sublime you fly, the most splendiferous light of a Shahid

Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah: Comet Of Mouqawamah

by Jonathan “Madd Cold” Azaziah

Sun don’t shine like you shine, nor does the moon
Nor do the stars, you’re just so awesome and smooth
Every time we see you, our raw love for ya just soars up like hordes of balloons
It must be that smile, so incandescent!
More innocent than a child, it’s in your essence!
So gorgeous and cool
You’re attacked from all sides by all sorts of buffoons
But none of ‘em can touch you with their sedition and darkness
You’re Resistance incarnate
And they’re all just boors, thugs and goons
Your Party is ALLAH’s
And these agents of the Satan are shoddy with their barbs
Challenging you will get enemies smashed into sawdust granules
A warrior second to none, we’re in awe watching your verbal sword crush the tools
Ya Nasrallah! More outta this world than phenomenal Andromeda
Ya Abou Hadi! Comet of Mouqawamah!
It’s beyond the realm of an honor to hear your words roar, rush and zoom
Our Sayyed! Inspiration galore, your fire and Nour just consume
Sacrifice our lives for you, we’ll happily take every gore, cut and wound
‘Cause you mean everything to us, the living, breathing embodiment of Pure, Just and True

Interview and Book Review: “Pieces to Peace”

Often times, in the modern world, stories of survival, triumph, and ultimate victories over heavy odds help inspire us to reach within ourselves to accomplish our own long-term goals and objectives. The dreams which weigh on us as days turn to weeks, turn to months, turn to years may seem more and more unattainable as the sheer weight of their growing burden on our conscience makes them seem like distant fantasy or even worse, childish aspirations that no longer apply in the adult world where we must earn a living to support ourselves and our family.

For those of us who are first or second generation immigrants in the West, this same path is riddled with a multitude of pitfalls, diversions and distractions, and difficult challenges as we try to stay true to who are from our inherited backgrounds to the values we develop in our interactions with the world we live in.

Laila Rashidie, or Laila Re, is a uniquely gifted poet and activist based out of Toronto. Her first published book of poetry, “Pieces to Peace” is an eye-opening and inspiring work that gives us a view into what it was like to grow up as an immigrant Afghan girl becoming a woman in a new, rapidly changing world, going from confusion to hope and from disillusion to confidence and perseverance.

Knowing Laila, as we do, here at Mouqawamah Music, we acknowledge and appreciate her contributions in the activist community as an organizer and a connector who is staunch in her support of immigrants, women and social justice. She has traversed a difficult and arduous path, embraced her struggle and become stronger as an activist and a woman along the way, inspiring others to follow their own dreams.

Her “Pieces to Peace” is both emotionally charged and visually descriptive. Throughout the short but potent work, we navigate along with her as she develops her unique identity in this new world, encountering excitement, wonder, love, pain, heartbreak, sadness, and hope to fulfillment. We are there with her as she opens to love, experiences the pain of loss and begins the process of healing in self-discovery.

We recently spoke to Laila about “Pieces to Peace” and the following is an excerpt from that interview:

How did your creative process change for you when you decided to publish a whole book of poetry?

I actually made sure the creative process that I had prior to the conception of the book idea didn’t change my essence or purpose. I was writing poetry on my blog “Bella Eshq” since April of 2013 as a creative outlet, the poetry book idea came to be in January 2014 through a former mentor after he read my poems. He is the first person who encouraged and supported me to put together all of my poems in one piece to self-publish. He guided me on the structure of the book, which was to have at least 100 poems. I would say my creative process became more disciplined in terms of making more time to write and taking my purpose more seriously. I felt really encouraged but I also never expected the book to happen, I just went with it organically. My mentor believed it was really important to share my art with the world and give my experiences too because there are many souls struggling like mine. I had doubts and questioned if I wanted to even reveal my personal life but it’s a sacrifice I believe I made for the better.

It took a whole year to finally have it published; it is 117 poems in total in chronological order from April 2013 to July 2014. Initially, I was trying to write a novel titled “From Pieces, To Peace.” However, I was so immersed in my healing process through poetry, I was writing poems regardless with or without the book idea. I wasn’t able to write that novel during that time because I was consumed by several internal conflicts that I resolved through those poems on that blog. The name of the blog means Beautiful Love, when I first started the blog I was a total emotional wreck so I was trying to really become a beautiful love. My pen name at that time was Bella Eshq and also Laila Love. I feel like I’m ready to work on that novel now, now that I have more self-love, clarity and peace of mind. I mostly write shorter poems now on my Instagram. (@lailarepoetry)

You reveal a lot of the difficulties and your vulnerabilities being an Afghan growing up in Canada. What have you learned from all these experiences about yourself, and about life?

I’ve learned that I am home wherever I am and I need to be at peace with that. I, like most Afghans, have some degree of constant sadness due to being suddenly displaced from our native land. Even though I escaped when I was a toddler, those were my roots linguistically, religiously and culturally besides ancestrally. I always thought as a child that I was temporarily living in Canada and returning with my family one day. I think many of us are going to get hit hard with the reality that we will be raising more new generations in our new nations. Afghanistan is still a war zone and at war after 4 decades. That reality hit me hard when my mother passed away from cancer in December of 2010. I have come to accept that this is home now, which was really depressing. I still and always will feel like I was cut off from a beautiful civilization and history. We are the first generation in millions to have had to flee Afghanistan. We’re all learning as we go day by day how to settle, adapt and “integrate” for the long and permanent term but still preserve and respect our roots. That’s the limbo that creates the instability and the chaos in me growing up in Canada. I feel like I was not letting myself grow or change cause of this guilt of betraying or compromising what it means to be a true Afghan or Muslim. However, I learnt that I am in constant growth and so is culture. We are all walking contradictions and that is okay. If I make mistakes, that is okay, I am learning. I can only live my truth. We cannot be boxed into labels; culture and society is what we make of it. We are humans living under multiple labels, as well with labels that are opposites of each other. That’s reality, and that’s what it means to be human; both simple and complex. I’m okay with all of this, life really doesn’t promise us anything but death. There can be miracles but not always mercy. Life owes us nothing, so I have to be and create my own happiness and love. Writing is me just being proactive artistically with my growth. I’ve been growing with every poem about who I am and what life is.

There is a vastness and depth to the feelings and emotions communicated in “Pieces to Peace.” There is a lot more to the story and we can’t help but feel that this book of poetry is the first saga in a meaningful lifelong path. We anticipate being one of first outlets to support and promote her work in the future and highly recommend the first chapter in what promises to be a brilliant tapestry.

Stay in touch with Laila Re as she continues her journey:

Instagram: @lailarepoetry

Facebook: PiecesToPeace

Blog: Bella Eshq

Website: http://www.lailare.com