MAYA ANGELOU’S

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE…
one old love she can imagine going back to…
and one who reminds her how far she has come…
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE….
enough money within her control to move out
and rent a place of her own even if she never wants
to or needs to…
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE….
something perfect to wear if the employer or date of
her dreams
wants to see her in an hour…
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE….
a youth she’s content to leave behind….
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE…..
a past juicy enough that she’s looking forward to
retelling it
in her old age….
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE……
a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black
lace bra…
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE…..
one friend who always makes her laugh… and one who
lets her cry…
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE…..
a good piece of furniture not previously owned by
anyone else
in her family…
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE…..
eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems, and a
recipe
for a meal that will make her guests feel honored…
A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE….
a feeling of control over her destiny…
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
how to fall in love without losing herself…
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
how to quit a job,
break up with a lover,
and confront a friend without ruining the friendship…
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
when to try harder… and WHEN TO WALK AWAY…
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
that she can’t change the length of her calves,
the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents…
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
that her childhood may not have been perfect…but its
over…
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
what she would and wouldn’t do for love or more…
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
how to live alone… even if she doesn’t like it…
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
whom she can trust,
whom she can’t,
and why she shouldn’t
take it personally…
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
where to go…
be it to her best friend’s kitchen table…
or a charming inn in the woods…
when her soul needs soothing…
EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW…
what she can and can’t accomplish in a day…
a month…and a year…

Anniversary

Looking at you from across the fire
the image of you I adore.
There.. the silence becomes my heart
as I face you and see my life through yours.

The wonders of what life we share
and the differences we must learn to understand.
The signature of happiness embedded into our souls
after these four years we’ve been one together.

What is marriage? As a child I could not grasp it,
could not see what made two people into one.
And yet now my heart cries for it, the mystery
is stunning and wonderful.

Through these lines I express to you
that which I see in the eyes of your daughters.
That which I see in the eyes of my own.
How wonderful you are. And how easy it is to see it.

It comes as it washes over us, how your Lord has blessed us.
How your Lord has wrapped us together as a family.
One I never could have imagined having before.
One I am so proud to call my own.

How could this be, that we are together?
And by the Grace of your Lord… we always will be.

A change has come,
the nights bring new winds.

The morning heals the tears,
that came from times of whims.

Desires come to fall,
and the heart realizes it’s pain.

The warmth of truth comforts,
while the demons within refrain.

The children have all grown,
and the cries of them have past.

Now life has dreamed new dreams,
to show each new hope at last.

What now can we believe,
when once our fears overtook.

What need can we proclaim,
without His open book?

The day has drifted to sleep,
the night has comforted my tears.

But now the truth has arrived,
and brought closure to my fears.

No one can see faith,
it whispers in the winds.

But the heart feels what is more,
and the soul can no longer pretend.

If I had not believed in You,
the years would be much longer.

And now that I have accepted You,
I feel Your words feed my hunger.

It is not pain that subsides,
it is truth that comes stronger than hurt.

It is not love that washes my tears,
it is acceptance that cleans the dirt.

This transition of growth becomes true,
when all else is weak and frail.

But the strength of hope lives on,
while the night leaves new dreams that trail.

Beyond the breechness of the world she used to know,
becomes the cross of illusion that her breath begins to show.

The endless cycle of vicious hate continues to scroll the scene,
as many wonderouse victims, imagine life as a dream.

Like hope, the day passes. The night calms her cries.
The care she puts to love, holds to all her long goodbyes.

The air screams each silent thought that caress her waking whim,
an innocence that runs freely as a prickly roses stem.

One morning the cock doth crow,
The market places is empty,
of every one you know.

The evening sleeps in danger and the whispers cast their glance.
While all the yearns of caution sight songs of true romance.

A glance promises the whole world a new,
but true times become but laughs of vigores storms once flew.

Her mind reveals these calamities the beginning passion past.
Yet every moment of living, holds what truly doesn’t last.

Taubah Abdul-Ba’eth

Bismillah

By my soul, for You I yearn

Deep within me, my sadness overtakes,
a love that bleeds before, the earth replays the quakes.

The end, the world no longer true,
the pleasure of seeking love, is no longer something new.

A possible destruction, the self plays out its fear.
the stress played in its direction, a silver helpless tear.

What fears can I count to unwind my gentle eyes,
A desperate reach to change, a loyal compromise.

Allah grants what is needed, but I need the whisperers song.
To help reach out to untamed thoughts, to wander the nights for long.

Allah is what is loved, for love has no end,
A danger crossed by illusion, a word to a gentle friend.

Confusion of truth, a question raises high,
what life am I living, I’m too afraid to die.

Death is not the fear, but what lies beyond?
Heaven my heart yearns for, hell my mind will respond.

The depth of my soul cries out for His mercy, the tears in my eyes
shames me to be unworthy.

Do I love You? With every fiber You have created, the time calls for fables
my life can’t now debate it.

You see me, at every corner that I turn,
my wishes have no weight, but by my soul for you I yearn.

By Taubah Abdul Ba’eth
6-6-05

The world seems much larger in the eyes of a child, with dreams to hold joy her visions
speak loud. And throughout dark ages her stories find truth, and the morals of laughter she sings to new youth. Through growing she learns
and has a hunger to teach, while keeping up wishes with stars she can't reach.
And she finds all her anger to slip by her fears, with nights as her comfort to shed away tears. She draws brand new
pictures to paint a new life, while climbing new burdens and beating down strife. And through the heart of a stranger she seeks to
be free, and finds bits of strength in what she finds love to be. But reaching new hights the world becomes small, through the soul of a women whose eyes she o­nce saw.

Taubah Abdul-Ba'eth
Dedicated to Ms. Dale Matthes my
9th and 11th grade English teacher

 It's fortold-the dreams which creap away in the mornings. I love you-what can these words of life seperate which love can connect together again. It is hate, and dispite the ties of our family the favor dwendles o­n-past the respect of years. Yet Islam teaches us different-for all I am told-yet I yearn for knowledge which you refuse to give because of the lack of knowledge I posses. I reach out to you-over and over and you take my cries as begs from an ignorant student-when reality tells it's cries from a lost child-lost daughter of your purest Islam. How do I reach you?

Taubah Abdul-Ba'eth

A child could hear a thousand laughs, and cry from slight heart breaks.
And see a hundred smilling stars, until tears dresal down their face.

They could smell the sweetened sent of love, while their loneliness will hold. And feel a tender touch from a friend,
but dread the stories life told.

A child could climb a thousand stairs, and try hard to reach the sky.
And turn to hide the sadness, that's leaking from their eye.

A child could touch an angles wings, and hurt inside for years. Yet sleep through times of scary nights, and dream away their fears.

Taubah Abdul-Ba'eth

There is a darkness that lingers in the hole of Shaytawn,
where he wispers to souls he has a chance to feed o­n.
The evil, it stirs at the name of Allah.
While we beg for forgiveness in the world that we saw.
And the Name becomes food for this hunger in life,
which we utter in pain and when we fall upon strife.
And it raps us in blankets to warm our cold souls,
as we melt from the stories His Book pages hold.
And in the mists of our passions Allah is what we seek,
though our tongues are too heavy and wicked to speak.
So we search for a love amongst our own kind,
and hurt from the knowledge that there is none to find.
And when we turn to Allah with weariness and hope,
we shudder with anger at the words that He spoke.
instead of submitting to the Greatest, Most High.
We shun what is true with no attempt to try.
Yet we Neil to Allah every day that we live,
and beg for the mercy we refuse to see Him give.

Taubah Abdul-Ba'eth

 A reythem to concure my soul-what story brings the tieds of era, concider the following with truth.
Since we care to portray this religion as a form of dignity and knowledge our own understanding which peirce the soul, reflect our actions upon the All Mighty's words. Have we no knowledge?- None besides what He has placed upon our reason and mind, for to think-ones becomes insightful, and to read The Book-one becomes wise (Insha'Allah) for what is wisdom? Understanding the separation between good and evil, right and wrong, up and down. The morals and gestures of idea, and desire-and to empliment them in all areas of design and simple thought. For wisdom can be simplified to understanding. But who am I to pretend such work makes since, o­only a selection of coherence in a deserted world of begging minds. Can we concure our souls with reason of Islam… Allah guides whom He chooses, and we wait for our nights of jehad.

Taubah Abdul-Ba'eth
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