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sukina_pilgrim Sukina Pilgrim الحمدلله @sukina_pilgrim mentions
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Sometimes I find myself Looking up to the heavens The stars The moon Or within the earth The ...
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Sometimes I find myself Looking up to the heavens The stars The moon Or within the earth The ocean The cities To find myself. To catch a glimpse of my truth. And whilst on the edge of despair An inner voice reminds me That 'I am' what I am looking for. I am, that I am. I'm constantly ... Sometimes I find myself
Looking up to the heavens
The stars
The moon
Or within the earth
The ocean
The cities
To find myself.
To catch a glimpse of my truth.
And whilst on the edge of despair
An inner voice reminds me
That 'I am' what I am looking for.
I am, that I am.
I'm constantly looking outside
To taste what already exists on the inside
Who am I searching for
That doesn't live in my own soul?
Whose melody is more beautiful
Than the one gliding off my tongue?
Whose face am I constantly
Searching for my features on?
Who do I think can lead me to completion
That isn't with me all along?
Nobody can write my story
Sing my anthem
Love me entirely
Pen my poetry
But me -
I
Am
What
I
Am
Seeking.
May I never forget ❤️
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He fell in love With himself Falling in love With God. Took a selfie Before the fall, He didn’t ...
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He fell in love With himself Falling in love With God. Took a selfie Before the fall, He didn’t realise He wasn’t in love With God At all. ~ Sukina Pilgrim He fell in love
With himself
Falling in love
With God.
Took a selfie
Before the fall,
He didn’t realise
He wasn’t in love
With God
At all. ~ Sukina Pilgrim
I fondly remember spending the blessed day of Jumuah in Washington DC a few years ago during springtime ...
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I fondly remember spending the blessed day of Jumuah in Washington DC a few years ago during springtime when Cherry Blossoms decorate the trees. I had been living in Medina Baye, Senegal at the time and hadn’t seen my husband for a few months then I was invited to perform in DC with my group @poeticpilgrimage ... I fondly remember spending the blessed day of Jumuah in Washington DC a few years ago during springtime when Cherry Blossoms 🌸 decorate the trees. I had been living in Medina Baye, Senegal at the time and hadn’t seen my husband for a few months then I was invited to perform in DC with my group @poeticpilgrimage as part of the One Mic Festival at the @kennedycenter and my husband’s group @nativesunmuzik were also performing so DC became the city of reunion with loved ones, I was so happy to see @mohammedyahya @muneera_pilgrim and @sarinaleah I nearly jumped out of the car whilst it was still moving ♥️Masjid Muhammed is an African American founded and led mosque and the Jumuah had the vibe and the energy of Black expressions of faith from that part of the world! It was sooooooo beautiful and the khutbah was looooooooong like a Black church service and I loved it! I can’t go to Jumuah in African American mosques without getting some Bean pie 🥧 much love to my brother @naeemusic who was a very gracious host♥️
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<span class="emoji emoji25aa"></span>️ Sometimes the ways in which we seek God Can become the veil between us and God Himself. Sometimes ...
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️ Sometimes the ways in which we seek God Can become the veil between us and God Himself. Sometimes our craving to become a knower Can prevent us from knowing And our desire for the object of our desire Can block us from tasting the object of desire Because it is not the object itself ... ▪️
Sometimes the ways in which we seek God
Can become the veil between us and God
Himself.
Sometimes our craving to become a knower
Can prevent us from knowing
And our desire for the object of our desire
Can block us from tasting the object of desire
Because it is not the object itself that we desire
It is ourselves.
Oftentimes we don’t realise
Our egos wear a perfect disguise
We think we are seeking him
But we are really seeking ourselves.
We are not seeking to be Lost in God
We are seeking to be known as He who knows God
We are not seeking to be His servants
We are seeking to be served by His servants.
We are not seeking to loose ourselves
In sweet annihilation
We are seeking to find ourselves
Above His creation
We are looking for stations
That make us feel superior to laymen
We are not seeking to be dust on the path
We are seeking to be known on the path
Sit upon thrones on the path
Like tyrant masters
We think we no longer need
Our spiritual guides and masters
Those who have mastered the pathways
And have sacrificed their lives
To become the bridge
Between God and mankind
To guide us
And raise us
And train us
To lose ‘us’
And find only Him
On the Horizon and within.
Maybe we’ve forgotten
Maybe we never knew
Maybe we fell in love with our reflection
Thinking we were seeing God
But we were only seeing
Flashes from our imagination
Human
Being
Arrogant
As always.
When will we learn
To burn the ego
And scatter its dust in the sea.
He said ‘Those who claim to know God
Need to be reminded about God the most.’
The veils are thick and sticky
For the one who knows not
But thinks he knows.
How fickle we are.
Our spirit brittle and starved
Praises be to Allah
We worship a God of Mercy
Who sees how senseless we are
Yet still, He still points us
Gently towards Him
In every living moment
And in every breath.
Maybe we’ll arrive at sincerity
Before our death. ~ Sukina Pilgrim (art by @maimounaguerresi)
#poetry #poet #poetwoman #sufi #poetry
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Some of my friends are in Senegal and recently went to Goree Island where Africans were housed before being taken as slaves to the Americas. In my free-write this morning this poem was born My ancestors lie in graves made of water. Funerals, where no holy man prayed for the dead No ... Some of my friends are in Senegal and recently went to Goree Island where Africans were housed before being taken as slaves to the Americas. In my free-write this morning this poem was born ♥️
🌊🌊🌊
My ancestors lie in graves made of water.
Funerals, where no holy man prayed for the dead
No flowers were cast upon coffins
No family mourned at the graveside
Holding each other tight
No awkward condolences said to the women.
My ancestors lie in graves made of water.
Has anyone said a prayer for the unnamed?
Prayed over their mass grave, yet?
Released their spirits from the ocean bed
So they can fly upwards towards the stars
Instead of seeing the heavenly glow
From beneath the water.
Or maybe they are at home there
After 400 years of existing in liquid
Their flesh living forever
On the sea floor
Their breath in the crashing waves
That rush upon the sea shore, so urgently.
My ancestors in the Atlantic
What would you like to say?
I wonder how it feels to die that way
No ashes to ashes
No dust to dust
Imagine, the ocean is a cemetery
For ancient African blood
That seeped into the sea
Dancing elegantly as it left the bodies
Of warriors who refused to be slaves
And surrender to those with the devil in their eyes
With whips that lashed their black gold skin
Punished for no sin.
My ancestors lie in graves made of water.
I wonder if they tried to swim
When their bodies cracked against the oceans limbs
Maybe they thought they saw home in the distance
Reached out their hands to touch
The type of mirages that appear
When you are drowning.
Maybe they saw their ancestors walking on water
With outstretched arms taking them home.
To an Africa in the spirit realm
With drums that play themselves
And children that dance
But their feet don’t touch the ground
Under a baobab tree that glistens
With lights from heaven.
And they drink bissap in abundance.
I wonder if they knew they would die
Or if they thought the sea was a portal to the sky.
Maybe they saw something our eyes couldn’t
Maybe they heard a melody
The other wounded comrades didn’t
Maybe they were not jumping
Maybe they were flying
Because they saw the face of God in the water.
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A short clip from my performance at #Mimouna Festival on Sunday. It was such a magical afternoon. More videos coming soon @h.bell_poet_quotes #poet #poetwoman #poetry #spokenword #grateful A short clip from my performance at #Mimouna Festival on Sunday. It was such a magical afternoon. More videos coming soon ♥️ 📹 @h.bell_poet_quotes #poet #poetwoman #poetry #spokenword #grateful
I am looking forward to leading the second workshop at Rumi's Cave from 'The Art of Speaking from ...
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I am looking forward to leading the second workshop at Rumi's Cave from 'The Art of Speaking from the Heart' series. This month we will look at Poetry as tool for healing as part of the Rumi's theme of Wellness for this month. Rumi's Cave Presents: The Art of Speaking from the Heart ... I am looking forward to leading the second workshop at Rumi's Cave from 'The Art of Speaking from the Heart' series.
📝
This month we will look at Poetry as tool for healing as part of the Rumi's theme of Wellness for this month.
📝

Rumi's Cave Presents:

The Art of Speaking from the Heart Session 2: Poetry & Healing Words Workshop
The Art of Speaking from the Heart is a monthly poetry workshop led by poet and performer Sukina Pilgrim. With differing themes set each month. ------ Our theme this month is wellness and healing. The written and spoken word you speak and write have incredible power to bring healing. For some poetry is a medicine. For others a confidant. "Poetry is the most potent medium of the written word - you can't express yourself better. It talks to the emotions, the heart as well as the mind." ------ These monthly workshops are tailored to bring out the creative voice and reflections within you. Using creative writing, group sessions and paired discussions.
Each session will generate 2-3 pieces of poetry for you to take away with you and further your writing and performance skills.

You will gain: *Writing Skills and Techniques
*Creative Writing exercises
*Group Discussions
*Confidence Building
*Positive feedback
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I was super gassed to be featured in the @hautehijab blog post about how Black Muslim Women showed ...
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I was super gassed to be featured in the @hautehijab blog post about how Black Muslim Women showed up to watch Black Panther across the world! Alongside my Habibi Comrades 🏽@__sabs__ @measuredbymoon @mona_gray Wakanda Forever Mi Seh! #blackpanther #wakandaforever #hautehijab #hijabi ... I was super gassed to be featured in the @hautehijab blog post about how Black Muslim Women showed up to watch Black Panther across the world! Alongside my Habibi Comrades ♥️✊🏽@__sabs__ @measuredbymoon @mona_gray Wakanda Forever Mi Seh! #blackpanther #wakandaforever #hautehijab #hijabi #muslimnoir #beingblackandmuslim #afrohijabi
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The beauty in yearning for him ﷺ Is knowing that he is yearning for you. Yearned for you Before ...
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The beauty in yearning for him ﷺ Is knowing that he is yearning for you. Yearned for you Before you were even you Before you were formed in the womb and after you are laid to rest In a cool tomb. Before the before And after ever after. Ya Habibunna Sayyidina Maulana Muhammed ﷺ The ... The beauty in yearning for him ﷺ
Is knowing that he is yearning for you.
Yearned for you
Before you were even you
Before you were formed in the womb
and after you are laid to rest
In a cool tomb.
Before the before
And after ever after.
Ya Habibunna
Sayyidina
Maulana
Muhammed


The Messenger of Allah cried ﷺ
The companions said“What makes you cry,
Oh Messenger of Allah?” He said “I miss my brothers.” They said “Are we not your brothers,
Oh Messenger of Allah?” He said, “No, you are my Companions.
My brothers are those
who will come after me
and they believe in me
without seeing me.” ﷺ
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