If only I were not handcuffed by the Prophet’s words if only
If only patience did not become my biggest enemy
If only… I was battling Marhab with the Prophet watching me
If only… I were not in chains with my burning house taunting me
If only revelation descended like it once did to my house
If only elevation were not so burdomsome and weighty
If only not so many trials came with being named Ali
I faced ten thousand at Hunayn but wish I wouldn’t face today
If only Allah wanted me to be the Ali of Badr only
Where I’d tear the battle in two, killing half of them easily
If only the house of Allah had kept me within its axis
No axes could break it open, but for my mother it gave way
But here we are, Muhammad is gone, and Islam has begun
I cradle Islam in my hands like a child in infancy
The Prophet’s anger is fuelled and I see his grave shaking
And become the shuddering door of Muhammad’s shaking city
If only my great Lord revealed a second Surat Al Tawba
And told me, ‘kill them wherever you find them, the men of idolatry’
And I’d be a lion again in battle only without Ahmed
Meaning it would be war but without Allah’s mercy
If only my Tholfiqar came alive and said Bismillah
And the same way men feast I would feast on my enemy
The enemy in me I’d defeat as I feast on their flesh
Defending Zahra and belief in Allah… the same thing really
I’d become a dragon and Arabia would be in awe
And take back my kingdom for the orphan, the poor and needy
I’d become a lion defending its woman and its pride
Except its woman with the planets of the sky does tasbeeh
I’d leave my house to the sound of those I’ve killed cheering my name
I’d unsheathe my sword and hear Allah Himself cry Ya Ali
I’d come back bathed in their blood with not a cut on my body
And that’s the only time anything nejis would ever touch me
If only men were good and loved Allah and loved beauty
And wanted goodness for this world, not tragedy after tragedy
If only men did not want to see orphans cry and widows lonely
I do not want the Caliphate, but I do want to kill poverty
I do not want power, but I do want to see all men fed
I do not want a throne, I want a mountain of bread I can give away
I am the justice of Allah manifested on this Earth
It’s because of me the planets rotate and worship divinity
I am the secret of this world and its secrets sleep in my chest
Jibraeel descends and has meetings with me secretly
What overflows within me sprinkles in all other men
If only men understood and did not throw their Heaven away
If only my house was not set alight with Zahra behind the door
If only he did not push the door and break the rib of my Lady
If only she did not cry out Ya Fitha… and instead Ya Ali
If only Mohsen did not need to ask, for what sin was I guilty?
If only my children did not have to watch their mother in pain
If only they did not have to see her cheek slapped tragically
If only they did not know what it feels like to be orphaned
If only they did not grow in a house so dark and lonely
But I can’t keep saying if only, I can’t keep thinking what if?
Men shouldn’t dwell on things that might have happened in different ways
Knowing that Allah is watching is the only way I can march on
If I can lift the door of Khaybar, then I can get through this surely
So I uncradle myself, and I get up from the corner
I was there because I had felt my wife’s rib when washing her body
I wipe my tears and carry on, with a broken heart like broken bone
And wait for Fatima to be avenged by my grandson, the Mehdi
* * *
(London – 19/01/18)