Like all my work this is copyright protected and needs to be attributed, but can be shared if not-for-profit, and so long as there are no derivatives.  I tend to use my wordpress, and other, web logs, to place my writing into while it is not yet in a final draft, so you might need patience.

Tobacco 

I know of a bloke

Who holds his accounts afloat

By blaming whomever

Need partake of

Any medicine

That is prescribed within

Legislation

And when

Once I believed him

Then he told me I needed

To get such medicine

Of the anti-psychotic variety

Presumably

From believing in him

And I got and took it

And I found therein

All my Dreams turned in

To the nightmare of

His own hate for life

And his own worth depised of

In his consciousness

That such as he is

He needed to force me

Psychologically

To take such medicine

Only so as he

Could be manifesting

Any real sanity

While in the meantime

I stopped taking the medicine

Then stopped needing him

Then recovered

So all is well but

For to find that

He still blames me at

And sought to force me

Take such medicine again

So as to enable

That my own Dreams

Of reality

Can make only himself stable

And have no way

To manifest me

Which supposition

I resisted immensely

Until now here you see

I am remembering

That when I took of

That anti-psychotic

Medicine

I promised myself

In each swallow

To take upon myself

What he blamed me with

While he imagined

His own good health

At my expense his dish of wealth

And so now might I

Begin

To believe I

Can condemn

His falsehoods

By every swallow

Of any future medicine

Including even

The food I buy

That well might you also

Remember me and give it a try

To improve your own mental health

Just by

Commitment to believe

In only what has evidence

Every time you chew

And swallow what

It is you your self need

And as for the bloke

His last delusion of me

Will be for him to choke

Since he believed in

My worldly offer

Of health to him

As though without

That accompanying

Condition

That he like me

Give up

Tobaccoo

The Cry That Knows No Supposition 

This is a news media sort of piece of writing, that I wrote in response to the general advocacy which was being given in the media for Paris Hilton’s release from the prison of gaol, into the prison of an anklet, over the weekend; but before her re-imprisonment. 

Of her re-imprisonment what I want here to add is that it is my constant regard that the methodology of the paparazzi is cruelty, and that Paris Hilton herself may well have been served a good turn by both Sheriff Lee Baca, and  the Los Angeles Superior Court Judge Michael Sauer.  The first mentioned for letting his officers release her, and in that release identifying her health state, as is mindful of many so very famous persons.  The second mentioned is whom has sought to rightfully prove that being famous, and even being abused by the media, is no excuse for criminal behavior, and in such it will most certainly be Paris Hilton whom benefits from the lesson in the long run, since hers are the tears shed openly and shamelessly within the media spectacle. 

The original article I wrote has been edited now twice, with obvious additions to the timing made in italics. Depending upon which of my weblogs you are reading it in, it may or may not be in the most recent draft, and may or may not reflect well enough when I actually originally first responded to the popular media coverage in Australia.  But to prove myself, the true timing is still within a copy I posted.. 

Read on only if you dare, because the article is named:  

If I were Paris Hilton . . . 

Well for one, I might like to keep the spelling as Perez, as I myself saw it only recently.  Actually I rather liked her better once I had seen that spelling, for some odd, but very Australian sort of reason. 

However, that is not what I was first intending to write, but before I tell that, I ought to first also tell that, be it not mine to wish Paris-Perez into any grand Bear Hug by night.  Since what is my first and most principal like want for her, is to truly befriend Bindi Irwin.   

Now this may take some explaining, and I can, so therefore will I try. 

Very recently both Paris Hilton and Bindi Irwin have been featuring large on Australian Television.  And what is beginning to manifest in at least my mind, but that I suspect also of very many Australians, is the contrast between the Perez style of mixing Australian method of learning, with an American, and the Irwin style. 

Paris Hilton has recently been in Australia, brought here by John Singleton.  But with John Singleton’s well renown reputation, we Aussies barely raised an eyebrow, and only suppose that Mr Singleton is just being very, well, just very, very greedy that is. 

While also it is still recent that we all bear with the death of Bindi Irwin’s, and Bob’s father.  A man whose fame in our eyes was a bit of an amusing spectacle, and whom we rarely ever acknowledged liking, that is, until he died and our whole country mourned his passing with open tears.  “Way to got out, mate, you did yourself a beauty”, might be our inner regard for his worth amid our tears. 

But there now, is Terri Irwin, up there in front of our eyes, showing us an American Mom’s approach to the lesson in her dearly departed former husband’s death, for her daughter’s lesson.  Now even being tourism ambassadors for Australia.  Why the ‘but’, you might well ask.  That but is because, but, but, but why, Terri, WHY, are you being so able in such stable cool while Bindi is doing such an AMAZING job up there of the face of us. 

You see, as for the rest of us Aussie mothers, why, we’d just be far too darn terrified of what we then might be needing to be forgiving of in our child.  However, we are all very carefully observant of Terri.  The truth of the matter is because not one of us ever believed that a man like Steveo could have chosen to be the mother of his children, any but the best of American.  The Irwin family fathership well proven among us, we need watch carefully for a full ratification of what we have been previously missing about how Americans are so well adept at raising children. 

In our way, a child’s pride, is quite markedly dismembered, at every and any turn.  To such an extent that if any of us rise up head and shoulders above the crowd, first we are repeatedly pulled back down, and then eventually, only perhaps after the age of about forty, get begrudgingly acknowledged as not ever having been trying to become famous, but rather if it is that fame arrived for us, it was because we were imposed upon by the social conditions to do the fame thing. 

Our culture is harsh, but itself famous for never enabling any tall poppy.  While we see of the Americans that many are enabled up there as big people.  Well, actually our mob, (mob is the collective pronoun for kangaroos – and as kangaroo is my totem among Indigenous Australia, a mob we are), are really, and veritably, quite as big as any American.  Yet expectant of no fame or money from the largeness of us.  Being dragged down all the time, one gradually during childhood recognizes why it is that fame just ain’t what we really were ever wanting.  As for money, its trick is just really quite obvious to even a child. 

Remember that we are a people invaded by Europeans for a few less years than Indigenous America is.  But were earlier imposed upon by Chinese whose arrival is in the archaeological record as having been only one hundred and fifty years before the Europeans.  Yet our people recognize a far longer influence of Chinese culture among us, and also that of the Indian subcontinent.  When you look to our closest neighbours, in places like Bali and Dili, the cultural influences we share with the world are quite obvious really.  In fact, the most significant of has long enough already been Islam. 

Islam’s influence upon our Indigenous cultural base is possibly about eight hundred years old by now.  We have men among our Aboriginal community whom dream in reciting Qur’an in Arabic.  Another I have met Dreams of being enabled to play guitar so well as he can, by other older dreams of playing instruments indigenous to Persia: and he is a colour blind man.  But most especially important to us, is that our song cycles are well already adapted to the various Surah of Qur’an which already had a tale in our own culture and place.  The Yolgnu Rom ceremonies being the best renown of examples of. 

Another fact of the influence Islam has long had upon us, but which is less renown, is that when we let Muslims upon our country, and in the very ritualized forms of Jihad we engaged in, (our battles are always very staged – though never any less real, or less felt, for being staged – only slightly more predictable in outcome), we had a sort of agreement constantly between those already converted and those not yet converted. 

The agreement was that we would retain a portion of Australian territory which need not convert, just in case we were the culture from among whom might arise the child whom first finds that Islam is the only way, from a basis of having no modern Islamic education.  That portion is knowable as east of the red centre and south of the border with Queensland.  Including where my own family are from. 

But having said that, I must also tell that today in Hijab I dwell.  Most of the time at any rate, and always am I noticing when my appearance finds way out of this shell.  A shell in which it comes to me now to tell.  I recently also saw upon television, Paris Hilton visiting a Pakistani Muslim family for the day, and being a housewife; and in memory of which, I must say, “Paris, Honey, you looked glorious in the black and white; are real rare American beauty.” 

What I am here in this writing, conspiring to tell, is that I perceive what is happening, is that Paris Hilton is manifesting one variety of a cultural combination between American and Australian, whilst the Irwins are manifesting that other variety.  I know that in America there are at least two such distinct ways, if not four, and held very distinct.  But here in Australia, the distinctions are not a part of our open culture.  Instead we hold open to children our Animal identifications.  So what is happening in many media contexts, in relation to the blending of the Australian and the American rites of passage into adulthood, is a really very solidly happening thing in which every mother need be paying all self decent attention. 

So then, here from an Australian perspective, I might make a little commentary for the Amerian audience.  Perhaps only mentioning Paris Hilton and Bindi Irwin, as two persons whose life story shows us a teaching story for what works in such cultural blending. 

In Paris’s situation, this morning on breakfast television, we here in Australia are in mourning for her.  We all are in total support of the Sheriffs having sent her home for medical reasons.  And in fact, honey, if you happen to google your name today, I must tell you that if I were you Paris, as well as befriending Bindi, I would be keeping my self out of the media for the whole forty days, and keeping all the pet faeces your place might have, and then at the forty first day, I would dress the faeces as though a nice brunch for the media, and place under each serve of, a polite note stating: “Thankyou for letting the world know I have a medical condition.” 

This is factually belying the American standard of debasement of poorly behaved children, I know.  But in the case of Paris, if it were true that she has been exemplifying a combination of Australian culture and American, then it had already been let go too far. 

We Australians, within the Indigenous belief system, all still today believe that we will one day turn into an animal, or a plant, or any other natural form of living giving matter.  In fact, for every one of us, our belief in our self, is cornered by certain blessing upon us as children of knowing who our animal is.  Our pride is wholly and soul-ly consolidated in such.  Especially, in fact, amongst the best of us.  Thereby explaining truly how it can be that we pull down each other’s pride so frequently.  Any person whom repeatedly pops back up as famous, is clearly an example of a very self disciplined mind. 

That is why, in the case of a person like Paris, we all regard that the situation was long already gone too far.  She is, after all, substantially older than Bindi.  Do I here belie my own situation, at nearly thirty nine, not yet in real adulthood, despite my every effort, and my three sons, in that direction.  That’s OK, I am an accountable person, and nobody else need bear any shame in my world for any fact of my existing. My mention here of myself certainly underlines the need for what is worthy of the American tradition to be applied, but not without due consideration of the constant application of the Australian system.  After all, being still regarded as a child, by my own mob, at 39, and despite motherhood well established, surely there is something wrong in this situation that I need mention myself at all.  Therefore let me be only just a little less than usually self indulgent in mention of my own self here.  

What is wrong is not with my motherhood though, I must emphasise to the extreme, which is perhaps why I mention myself at all.  It is that the whole way any culture contains and sustains maternal daughter relations is of a true very close regard in myself, having grown up with a major fault in such relations, but one without traceable cause, in that it is not the fault of either my mother or myself.  Of my grown up and culpable self, even that is not truly yet in adulthood, let me say that the Traditionally Oriented Aboriginal community in the Northern Territory mostly own my culpabilities, that is except for the parts owned and being held accountable, within the more wide Ummah that is all Islam, inclusive of those within other Religious affiliations, but whom believe in truth in Allah and the last prophet.  My accountability is at this stage already so extreme that it is too difficult to imagine any man actively able to Husband me, and yet one will one day most certainly.  He will additionally have the effect of enlargement my degree of culpability in every direction.  So then here, perhaps you can adequately conceptualise why my own story bears relation upon my observations of American mothers, in relation with their daughters.  I know my own pride gone too far, only too well, in fact.  The reality that will strike me is surely that most of my writing is not about the sort of things any child should write about.  

To that effect might I also here mention another slight difference between Australian and American tradition.  In our Australian world the whole culture gravitates around women’s work in consolidating Kinship, as a series of stable marriage relations, which then determine every other possible social relation.  We have a few precise rules.  In fact, while most are quite subtle, it is that every possible social interaction has strictly managed, and heavily sanctioned, rules of what is the factual possibility.  Each person has a ‘skin’ name, which addresses both the totem animal believed in, as the culture is basically Animist, but also the name addresses the Human potential and possibility.  For example, my skin name is that I am a Nungarrayi, and that name, if it were to be translated into Hebrew, would translate as Rivaq, that is Rebecca, which is also the name upon my birth certificate which my father accurately gave.  Many Australians without Indigenous culture and language, carry a generic nickname which has the same function as a ’skin’ name.  Or their birth name has a specific ending added to it, which denotes a certain social function, status, and ability.  Being a Nungarrayi might only be the same as being a Bec.  Being a Nungarrayi also determines my song, my mind, and names the ley line of my birth and grave.  

As a Nungarrayi, these are the most strict rules I am established within, of belief that life can be no different.  Every male whom is a Jangala I must regard as a Husband.  That is whether we actually ever marry or not, and we will be gradually accustomed to treat each other as Husband and wife through all stages of childhood, to the extent that we really truly find our minds fearing each other very much, because the embarrassment of realizing each other as though in a sexual relation, we actually not yet if ever, is so very huge, especially in the mind of any child.  Given that fact, such childhood relations are clearly monitored to a high degree of social involvement and concern.  No child finds their feet in society without everybody knowing every embarrasing detail.  Well, that is my experience, but I expect that I am in the extreme end of the Australian way, and that many other Australians far better protect their children than my mother was enabled to.  What has happened to myself puts me in a position of being able to consider the American system in how it is stronger than the Australian, but also being able to find what feels bereft from the American for a person like myself, that is what the strength in the Australian system is which has protected me truthfully.   

If I meet a Jungarrayi, whom is a brother to me, I must treat him as well as my own son.  He would also be the only male allowed to ever hit me, and that he could only if I ever by accident attend upon any perception of any sexual interaction among any persons, but whilst in his near vicinity.  If he and I were to engage ourselves in any sexual interaction, we would become permanently austracised by our whole community.  I am also even today expected to austracise any person whom has engaged in any sexual activity with a person whom is the same ’skin’ as their own self, which is truly the hard call for all of us.

Then there is any male whom might be a son-in-law to me, or my brother be his sister’s son-in-law, (these relations being determined within a presupposition that I will marry only a Jangala man), and we must at all times be in total avoidance of one another.  We might become to live in good respectful closely bound blood relationship, but will never directly address each other.  If it happens that we were to engage in sexual activity, we would be ritually speared to death, within traditional culture.  Socially distrusted and openly disliked and discouraged within mainstream society.  I am encouraged to hate a son-in-law sort, so much that I can not even remember his name.  But another girl who is a sister to him, is whom I will ever look towards for any assistance I require in fitting in.  Additionally my own brothers might look to him as whom performs that actual cutting in any initiations. 

That is inclusive of all of the male initiations: from circumcisions and subincisions; through ritual scarification also of the chest; to a tooth being knocked out.  The people whom I am mainly affiliated with are those with the subincision as the main entry into manhood which might enable marriage, yet I also have immediate affiliations with people whom scar men’s chests, and those whom knock out a boy’s tooth.  If I had not these personal relationships, in our culture, I am forbidden from ever even mentioning that such facts exist. Actually there is usually posed a second best, or even third best category of marriageable man, that is, for me, if no Jangala were yet available, or just in case he might not want me.  Perhaps if I had associated too much in conversation with a son-in-law, for example, or a brother had ever had cause to hit me, then my marriablity is reduced and maybe I might not be good enough for a Jangala.  But as I am born to a mother who is eaglehawk by birth, like her mother, and hers before, it is always better for my husband to be a crow, and I become aligned as a part of the crow family, only once I am my self so made by a crow man. 

Our culture sustains constant and consistent evidence of maternal lineage distinct from, and woven in among, the men’s work of sustaining the story lines by patri-lineal clan allegiances.  My children should all be born a Jampidjimba or a Nampidjimba, and theirs is the story of Tiddalik, the frog who drank all the water in the whole world.  So that my three sons are actually two Jungarrayis and one Jakamara, whose story is alike to the Odessy, is somewhat of a matter of big shame for my own story.  And in that we might just pretend that my sons are Jampidjimbas, that is, until they are becoming ready themselves to enter adulthood, and can identify their true nature all by themselves. 

These are just the bare bones of the whole of any Kinship teaching, as we here in Australia, are taught it as children. Now what I can see there on TV of America, belies a different form of the management of pride.  And it is with wonderment that I admire Terri Irwin letting Bindi be so bold, and with sorrow that I am noticing here on television this morning, that Paris Hilton really had the medical condition which many had only supposed she was in a pretence of having. 

But, let me tell you this about that situation with Paris Hilton.  We Australians, whom never did like her famousness that much, and found it all quite a bit boring really, are this morning, making overt efforts in our most populous media, to be more respectful of her, whilst also observing in shock, that Americans are not.  That is, seemingly not able to believe that she is not in good self knowledge of how she is generally perceived.  Perhaps it is just a show of not believing in her paucity of ablity to consciously regard her self as though removed.  This then presents another fact of the difference between us. 

In our way, our Indigenous Australian culture, if we have a Dream, then that is what is us.  Nothing is about us if ever we Dream it, but it is us. So then here formally, if it might happen to be indeed that Paris Hilton’s medical condition, was only ever the result of a blending of cultures, I will formally congratulate her, in having been made public. For what I can see is that she is herself in truth and in deed.  For our way is to know that if we can not first believe in our self, then how ever will we believe in God, (especially when we name Him Allah).  Paris Hilton’s name is quite as exactly appropriate to her, as mine is to me, and as in fact has Bindi been named.  (I am sure that Terri Irwin will agree that giving birth was no worse than treading upon a grass seed sort of a bindi.)  For in our Australian Dream, what Paris Hilton might be, within an Earth worshiping, nature driven, culture, is no more than the seedling well planted, of a giant redwood to be, perhaps, though maybe more like a Silky Oak.  A tree that is as though a hotel, in whose branches, many and various visitors pass through if you please.  All the beauty in the birds, dropping feathers and nesting, the chirps of their insect friends, and the tree climbing animals, who love all that cover of her leaves. 

However, that is not what I wrote this report to this morning’s media for.  In fact rather it is that I had an idea.  The perhaps if Paris Hilton, befriended Bindi Irwin, that there might arise a good joke, and let me not be who tells that it has any basis in truth.  But this week Bindi is to meet with the Dalai Lama.  So to be sure, it will be Paris who first tells it, I might just gently note, that upon the Queensland Sunshine coast, there could even eventuate acts of open warfare in consequence of the Dalai Lama’s visit, because of the degree to which a faction among organised crime, had been holding the Tibeteans above Indigenous Australians, as worth in Religious belief.  Knowing us Australians, that is, although a likely unseemly outcome, also the matter of a few good jokes, of course. 

Best me then finish this now sooner than later, with expressing that my true real regard is my every expression in this.  A thankyou every person mentioned for handling being the butt of a big Aussie joke, (if you get it yet) and I do truly hope, that Paris gets well soon, Bindi learns true blue the lesson Australian through and through, Peace arrives at Earth, and the American journalist who appeared this morning deriding Paris Hilton upon Australian television, gets a great and giant kick up the butt. 

And see here that I no more than provide for Miss Hilton, a stable consolidated belief in herself as a very decent person, deserving indeed of all that large wealth, in some form or another, eventually, for what the money is worth.  She ought really be letting that monetary wealth drive her better than she has been. 

Here I am adding in a late paragraph, upon the few days later scenario, in which Paris is re-admitted to prison.  Could it be, perhaps, in light of the whole scenario we witness unfolding, that Ms Hilton’s folks have given her that rude shock she needed?  Perhaps it was in the form of the pornography in which she stars becoming suddenly more prevalent, not with her imprisonment, but rather here in Australia, timed in with her release, before re-imprisonment.  Perhaps it is the telling of her in the outcome which we all were waiting for.  What is it that the porn flicks show?  They are on network television late at night here in Australia, in advertising to enabled purchase of a veiwing of through making a phone call on the mobile (cell phone).  Alongside hilarious ads using a joke about addiction portraying a pole dancing stripper in an advertisement for a Halal food outlet.  Ads that make us Aussies believe that the Modern Muslim Ummah of Arabic orientation is, at last, getting us.  But the point here I want to make, is that perhaps, just perhaps, if Paris Hilton’s family have been clever, they did a set up through the Justice department, so that it was their own daughter whom an example was made of.  That tough love works don’t you know.  Pride stings, but what is the lesson we must all take from the way in which Paris Hilton has been abused by the media?

For there is one other last aspect, of our Australian cultural belief, which I had not yet mentioned.  Yet one in which Paris can only be, held in our best regard. We believe that every Dream, and every single thing that might cross the mind, of any person and in ever time, has a basis in the world of reality, of having once before or in future happened truly.  So therefore, if no man can find that the past had it, a person somewhere someday, must take it that Dream into their own future.  Yet of Dreams can we impart, they are not always what they seem at the start.  For the worst of, that any child every could have been harmed, are those known for the wrongdoing causal to, being the cause of any and every fall from the paradise of innocence. 

Yet need such Dreams never have, been enacted, exactly as first read? The answer must always be “obviously not” and those whom instead have supposed their need is only to force such dreams upon others, are obviously wrong in that, because any dream of criminality, is by definition a series of wrongfully assembled images, in which, either that most, or that least, pleasant of the aspects of, can be delayed until the whole manifests without criminality.  For example, if once you Dream a dream, and it has any criminal part, then if that image, of any criminal intent, should have any recognizable aspect, as having once before belonged in another place, why then that part of that dream is knowable, as not needing to be in future again enacted, and so altering the entire Dream, usually right out of any criminality. 

These are long sentences that I have just here spelt out our law with.  Yet to my own name will I take it, that never was I taught, for in the invading culture were no such lessons available to me, and I was distinctly keep apart from other Australian Aborigines; but rather instead did I find that such is true, only by trial and error.  So therefore have the right to teach of.  And within its lesson is that I believe, Paris Hilton is taking upon her own self, a set of our collectively owned Dreams, in which there are many behaviours which not many would want the ill of.  In Australia, the fact that not many could want to be her, is what makes her honourable to us, but in that, if only she can accept herself as she is.

Yet that she can with dignity, is that in her we all will believe, that she need not suffer to in criminality as a permanently scarring identification.  Nor need any other person for the prevention of that her fall might not be to. 

So if I were Paris Hilton, I’d want to meet Bindi Irwin, and I would believe, in the trees, and try to avoid any criminality.  Congratulations to her, if this she sees.    

Original writing copyright June 2007 to ANungarrayididitdotCopas, for the author, Rebekah Marker, owned in common by every shareholder of A.C.N. 123 212 671 PTY LTD.  The copyright may be shared with any person whose use of is Not-For-Profit, within a fifty year financial cycle time frame, and whose use changes neither the authors meaning, or any other implication made by use of the names of the characters mentioned. 

 This is a post made in a few of the Muslim internet forums, which has proven as challenging for most Muslims to read, as it had been to construct.  For those without a Muslim education, “Isa” is Jesus’ name in Arabic language.

Salamalayikum everyone  This post is made first at a few Muslim website forums, and written earlier this week.  It is equally as difficult a read as any I have written.  So an apology for the moderators, who may like any aid available for this one.  At this time I am trying to make my written work accessible for an audience without any Muslim education, as well as those educated in Islam.  My own comprehension of Islam has been provided me from many sources and in a piecemeal fashion without the usual texts and sequences, it is befitting that my learning process might be documented as a method for drawing other folk like me out of the Australian mainstream, to enable at least further curiosity and want and will to learn in Islam. 

This morning around the prayer before dawn, I realised a fact about the sequences of Jinn, and how it can be that redemption exists.  My son had a fear in him about the work which he expressed in tears about those whom are holding Jesus to be at fault, when it is Jesus whom proves fully all our redemption is possible.  Isa must be held as alpha and omega to sustain the mind within Human culture.  His Dream is only that of want that Jesus not be hurt for his own sake, but I will that He learn to accept such love as Isa can provide him.

To comprehend this part I can describe here, of what I am learning in Isa, it is necessary to believe in the Angel of Death as a living body of matter in reality.

But to understand the facts it needs to be first understood, that there are four distinct degrees of evolutionary possibility among those Alaqa existing. Alaqa is an Arabic word which can be translated as all of: a Soul, an Embryo, and so an embryonic Soul, or a blood clot, and so a blood clot of a Soul, or a leech, and so a leech of a Soul, and it is able to be equated with that function in us all of being enabled to sustain our mind within immortality of thought form, that is, within belief in Allah’s permanent recreation of our being, and that we need live without causing harm (only shaytan have not that aspect when of human body).

At the lower end of the evolutionary potential are those Alaqa whom can never quite attain perfection in Allah within a Human form, yet at present exist in Human form often, and are the Shayteen.  They fail to believe in God while in Human form because their will is not to be Human.  In Animist cultures neither can they inhabit any mammals, but will rather let themselves become turned into birds, (an Ibis sort of identification is common among literate folk, and they are causal to the green parrots whom will inhabit Jannah), and are only afraid by the possibility of actually being turned into Ants.

Higher in evolutionary possibility is Humanity.  Then there are also Angels whom are inhabiting a Human form, so as to aid in the process of Human evolution, but to an Angel, the entire Human bodily function is only an aspect of self, even when their own Soul is connecting to the body with an Alaqa, that Alaqa will eventually evolve through experience into the fully adept functioning of an Angel.  Then also are Jinn. Djinn in Arabic means unseen, and refers to the fact that in the world of physical matter, we can not perceive who or what may or may not contain, or be in fact, the Djinn; but that the Djinn are ever present in the Dreamtime is a necessary belief of Islam, and of Aboriginal Australian culture.

Here is what is very odd, but sort of makes sense.  The Jinn receive the stories of Bible and Qur’an in a set of eight distinct sequences, but each of those eight broken up also into twelve.  And each sequence is one in which the individual mind can sustain itself in the sanctity of Allah as redeemable.  Each of these Jinn then are whom absorb the worst of consequence and fall into causing, and whom seem to be the fault, but whom do so only because Allah has enabled in real innocence.

But what is crystallised now fully in my own external mind just this morning, is about why the sequences of Judaism and Christianity are different from Qur’an and the other of Mohammed’s Ahadith, that is words he spoke whilst a prophet.

Jesus is first whom comprehended the full causation of the fall of men in the first place.  Eve and then Adam, Cain, Abel and Seth also had perceived of the fall as inevitable from Adam eating the fruit, but could not perceive how it could be, and knew of themselves they had not caused.  Seth especially is whom can hold himself in total innocence in respect of the fall, because when He came to be conceived, already Adam and Eve had received that a count of seventy fold times seven the retribution for one sin, was what men will pay to remedy the fall.  Satan is known as whom would not bow down before Adam.  But for Jesus, it tells in the Gospel, first he had been approached by Satan, and he thereafter instructed his many following to follow him in death so as to follow him in life, thereafter he let that he was crucified, after preparing his following to assist him to cause his resurrection.  I know not all folk believe in this, but I believe that He then entered Jehannam, but with a way prepared from him to leave again, and his work between facing Satan and being resurrected is all about tracing the thought of the causes of the fall.  Jehannam can be understood to be a state of mind in which not every belief can be located in time and place. Jesus was first to identify why that happened.  That his resurrection is recorded is that we know he totally regained every moment of accountability.  Jehannam can be translated from Arabic as Hell, but in fact is more precisely defined in Arabic than the English word Hell is.

Yet in the process, he is described in Revelations, as admiring
Babylon only among all those He witnessed.  Why?  Is because she is next to realise why the fall happened, and is forgiving of His knowledge, in accepting her own descent into Jehannam as being needfully for as long a period of time as necessary so for to also regain full accountability.  Yet she manifests first in the sequences of Men as the fruit of the garden causal to the fall, then as The Evil One, and later the Beast of the Earth, but also inevitably in that also is redemption manifest.  Her process sits outside of Jesus in time and place, earlier and later in every respect, and yet holds too much terror for men, and so men must rather believe in Jesus than in Her.

Alike to Jesus she will not descend without evidence of her redemption existing, but she, alike to Kali in often creating a nuisance by assuming wrong among the righteous, will pretend that the descent into Jahannam is permanent and inescapable, and so entrap those aspects of the self which were causal to the wrongs done of Sihr that manifest the four beast of Daniel’s Dream etc, and Her real name is unknowable, but why we must not know it, is because to call upon her places the self outside of culture.  Her will is to always place herself as the wrong.

But the critical fact is that it can not be Her alone whom finds the fault and cause and also the way into Jannah, and so guide the many out whom might have so fallen by accident, only because of the negative forgiving of a female, being unable to thereafter herself escape, but yet her redemption is also proven. Therefore there must be another male life whom is forgiving her. But it also can not be that any man take the way of being both before and after her.  That she skirts Jesus is that belief in her needs to entertain belief also in the male form being Death.

So then the next among Jinn to become fully aware of the causes of the fall, is/was the Angel of Death.  She pays to him the bulk of what she acquires through Jehannam as method of attaining Jannah.  Then he pays the bulk of that quantity of the matter of Heaven straight to Iblis, whom is in fact the last of all of the Jinn to accommodate the modality of what caused the fall, and find the fault in any way his own responsibility.  So when He accepts to descend into Jahannam, it is that his passage becomes that of the first in the time sequences of Men, to have proved that the fall exists.  Yet he had not so ever believed in the fault until first he had found full evidence of his redemption.

His time sequences are aligned to his arrival among life at Earth being distinct from other Jinn, and later in his first experience, (only very recently in the history of men), and that already earlier than his first arrival, was a later arrival with evidence of his redemption already being existant.  So he arrives around now, then is last to find cause for the fall, then is attendant upon aborbing what of the Shaytan he need so as to warn Adam and Eve, then arriving into this time again shortly before his original arrival here, he attends also upon the need of Ka’ba for the Masonic Lodges, and then only after that process, and receiving thus from the Synagogue of Satan the fuel for his redemption, he arises in his original Emminence being Iblis, travels away, and returns to assist the process of Islam.

This is the hard thing for men to comprehend about Jinn, that time sequences are so far.  So sometimes it seems as though the Jinn are imagining to cause the past, but in fact what sets the mind of a person who bears with Jinn, apart from the mind of a person whom bears with shaytan, is that the Jinn are at all times perceiving cause being before effect.

So meanwhile the Angel of Death, had been second to last to become fully attuned with the cause of Jehannam, but in giving away what he acquires to fuel his own redemption, (that is the fund available from the ills committed by those in the synagogue of Satan), He follows Babylon/Beast of the Earth, into Her Hell of Jehannam, as the Male phenomenon whom is Her final forgiver.  But He also has first noted that by communicating his find to Iblis, he observes that Iblis undertook to enter Jehannam, and then has arisen, and so He feels safe himself to be enabled also to do the work of minding the grave.

Here is the key to the tale.  That Jehannam is no more and no less than attuning the full consciousness to maintaining total awareness of life, and total sensitivity to life, whilst in the journey between the last breath, through the grave, and perhaps through the bacteria and worms in the soil, and whatever next life form absorbs the matter of our self which sustains Human worth, (there are bacteria in rocks which can be known to be of fire, and a worm and the wood with fungus is like being the water, and the garden is then manifest through evolution of species – will we inevitably evolve life forms which are a combination of plant and animal biology, remembering that cellular respiration, is the same in flora and fauna, and that the mitochondrial DNA might be a key to the evolutionary possibility), and so the entry into Jannah is enabled when a life form can fully manage its own biology so as to sustain full accountiblity in Allah 100% of the time.  That is, Jehannam is no more than fully awake death.

Therefore men attain Jannah upon being able to forgive the Angel of Death.

While it is the feminine aspect only able to forgive him, then we fail. 

Alayikumuassalam rebecca

Salam and Hello and welcome  

I have done a thing which I am strongly proud of today, and want to show it.  It bears some relation upon the work of validating that Mohammed was at all times perfect in respect of Aisha. 

Depending upon the fullness of your own belief, and how much of the real world already in existance you are able to perceive, perhaps you might take my post in the form of an allegorical teaching.  It is about the effort necessary to make so as to cause that the wrong sihr which made the world impure, can be altered by well measured sihr of Angels.  So read when your mind is willing. 

This is a very serious issue I want to address, but it is difficult to address, especially through the internet.  I know because I have tried to before, in a number of different Islamic websites and weblogs.  However I hope this time the outcome might be better. 

It is not about being an Aboriginal Australian, which is usually how I can claim to have been given any bad reputation.  Yet it is also very directly aligned with that fact, but not necessarily always provably so, and trying to relate my own factual life story as I related to the wrongful criticisms made against Mohammed (blessings in my labour to him), has brought upon my own self a multitude of wrongful condemnations in the modern Australian context, and especially from the direction of police corruption and organised crime influencing modern Australian society through corrupt policing. 

This part of my life story is about a family court case I am involved with between myself and my ex-defacto partner of nine and a half years, to whom I have three very well minded sons.  But it is not thanks to their father that their own well mindedness is being maintained whilst living at his house, and most especially neither are any thanks due to their step-mother, who fancies herself a good person only at my expense.  While what I have to tell is not of the material world, but is rather about the work of the world inhabited by Allah’s Angels, the facts in the legal dispute are very relevant, so I can here tell a little of. 

What has been portrayed through a myriad of legal contexts, but worst of all in a, now out of date, forensic psychiatric report, is basically that: because I began to believe in Islam and practise genital wudu, asking my children’s father to re-inforce the lesson for my children; but was also, at the time the court case opened, briefly engaged to an Aboriginal man; and also having had the symptoms of a mild post traumatic stress condition, which is caused from, the combination of an accident in that I sat in a bucket of hot water at three, and then being caught in a natural disaster when eighteen, nearby to naturally hot water pools in New Zealand; that therefore, my sanity might be in such terrible condition as to make me a permanent danger to my children, even to the extent that it is traumatic for their minds and their father’s mind to so much as say hello on the telephone. 

The children’s father has sought to establish through lying to court, and to a forensic psychiatrist, in lies that are readily able to be disproven, that my general mental condition is so bad as that my self could be put under duress to rape a child.  That he reported so very directly to the forensic psychiatrist has preventing me obtaining a blue card, and because my usual occupation is as a youth worker, I have not been able to work in my normal occupation, which has exacerbated the problem, in that I could not afford to fund my legal representation.  The forensic psychiatrist believed him against other material evidence on paper, and in an absurd exaggeration in which he said openly to her that he only need give police a go ahead and they would criminally prosecute me for child sexual assault.  There is no evidence, and perhaps why this circumstance has happened to myself is because I have at all times sustained absolute certainty in my nature that to so abuse any child is fully impossible. 

Normally I am totally unaware of any of the disturbing mental associations which many persons report to me of experiencing in association with myself.     Yet it comes to me that perhaps when I am asleep and not at all conscious of my Dreams, that my lack of consciousness might be because I have been forced into nightmares not of my own life, through a former defacto relationship with a person whom was abused as a child.  What is odd in the context that it is myself being accused of insanity, is that the legal professionals whom had been assessing the case, seem to have been relying upon such nightmares in their experience as though above the empirical evidence.  Because of the general reguard I am held in, I have experienced a gradual realisation of the extent to which my reputation was damaged here in
Queensland before I even arrived here, among those persons whom might have been my peers in previous years.  People I might name as peers in the Australian community are Aborigines whom are active in the land rights movement, and whom are mothers of children the same age as my own; members of the regulated socialist organisations; and any community of religious believers whom I have been in prayer with; yet also those whom I went to school with whom are now doctors and lawyers.  Now it is only a  small subset of the Indigenous community and a small subset of the socialist community, and small subset of religious believers whom have been enabled through Angels to sustain belief in myself as worthy of ever remembering.  Maybe that will soon change. 

Early morning, 23rd May 2007, (four days away from the fortieth anniversary of Aborigines being made citizens of a nation state – if that has any meaning to yourself), I received the set of mental impressions in which a person I know had been causing that my own person is perceived by many to be the responsible person for other peoples acts of sexual hatred.  It is a good thing to have been able to notice the images are able to be received with gaps between each image in the sequence, which has enabled myself to put the truth in among the long standing imagery. 

So I am going to here describe those images, and while describing, also place my own certain life story truth in place.  My every effort for the past four years at July 10th, has been towards winning the family court case, and it is to that outcome which I am here working.  My whole self in reality, is totally oriented into being a mother and a wife and a good daughter, and every other part of me is only an impurity; so can I ask of readers to bear myself as it is in reality in mind. 

The sequence of images: 

The preface is that in the past when I lay in bed in an automated mode of life, with my children’s father near me, I often made my hand like to an emus head, and made a joke of myself in that. 

However many persons have been taking to their self, when after engaging in an act of degrading the Human anatomical function of gender: 

The mind might inadvertently have been associating with an image of a puppet of some sort, but always one with a clearly strong association with greed; There was an assumption attached to the image that it was being manipulated by the hand of a stranger, and that the puppet is the self, but also behaviour, of the person whom committed the wrong deed;However, clearly because these images related to wrongful action as well as only mind, it must be held that the enactor of the deed, could have controlled their behaviour and not so acted, since we Human beings can control our posture if nothing else;Therefore the correct regard to hold the manifestation of the puppet within, is that it is being controlled by the hand of the person whose mind notices it, but only when and if that hand is also attuned with the hand of Allah;Any implications made by any persons whom have seen myself using my hand alike to a puppet, are clearly mistaken, since I have never, when with my hand inside a puppet (an example was with a monkey puppet I was given to hold by a Canadian acquaintance, at the 2000 Olympics Soccer matches in Canberra), ever had any thought or associations aligned with controlling the mind or behaviour of any other person.  I am here in Allah, Elohim 

The next image to appear is a wide open mouth with the tongue poking out.  It is known to be at cause from the practise of homeopaths whom dose patients with a dose of potent medicine under the tongue, and so whom see their patients with wide open mouths, and are also likely to have examined the tongue.  I have been a patient for some eleven years of one such homeopath, whom is not qualified, and had enticed me into his practise by quoting from the teaching of George Ivanovitch Gurdjieff.  I have subsequently studied that teaching and can relate to it well enough to know that the homeopath is not adhereing to the real nature of the work he ascribes to belief in.  In fact, my own experience of his knowledge, is that he uses his information about what medicines he had prescribed as homeopathic medicine, (that is, a medicine alike to the disease is prescribed so as to enable a patients self knowledge, and only thereby recovery, in having swallowed culpability), to various patients whom might be vulnerable, as I have been to his treachery, so as to exaggerate the condition on long into the future, only so as to alleviate the guilt he and his own wife are bearing, most especially from sexual conduct.  Also he uses the doses he gives to one patient to feed through a story to another patient for them to blame the first patient by.  Perhaps most of the blame was falling to my shoulders only because I have not once blamed any person in the situation, and not even the homeopath until well after I had very clean behavioural evidence in my bodily experiential witness.  The image is usually associated to the ills of gossiping.  But the fact of whom gossips and what gossip is, had not been accurately being identified by those whom promote the image.  For example, the homeopath whom I am by now quite familiar with, had often openly gossiped about one patient to another, and frequently enough patients complain about his approach.  He seemed to have reserved myself in some special favour and only gossiped about me to his wife and close companions rather than to the whole body of his patients.  But he also was blaming his patients for ever remembering or repeating what he was telling them, as though their ears were faulted for hearing.  But when in a physician’s office we ought to regard stories we are told as having a teaching element, or warning against wrong.  The homeopath here in my regard did often use teaching stories when speaking with myself, for example: the statistician whom was diagnosed with an illness with a 100% fatality rate, and had to cure himself of misplaced belief about statistics before he could find the cure of the disease.  I have the full set of all the medicines which were prescribed to me, and my children, and note often that many persons attuning with police, (both criminal and legal professionals and many others), when wondering what regard to hold me in, find themselves receiving images representing one or other of the food substances which are able to trigger a negative response in my body from those medicines.  The homeopathic literature defines all such possibilities thanks to the good work in the field of homeopathy by many believers as well as the abuse of its nature by kaffir. 

So the image of the mouth with the tongue is truly an image from the face of a person being gossiped to and not the mouth of whom is gossiping.  Although, if you want to, you could take me here as a gossip, for in my own self regard is the total account to bear for the existence of such a homeopath, now having related the story. 

The image of the mouth with a tongue can become turned into an umbrella, and an umbrellas can be regarded as an upside down cup with a handle.  That is, a cup for catching ills instead of health giving energy.  That is within a 100% thanks to my son. 

Then the images which have been commonly been perceived, had a sight from the view of a person pushing a bicycle in the rain.  The whole array of bicycle imagery implies a work ethic.  Pushing the bicycle implies either an intolerance to riding, or having had an accident.  The homeopath has a friend, whom also practises homeopath, and is whom first communicated to me about the Gurdjieff teaching, whom had a very bad accident upon her mountain bike.  She is usually held is regard of many as quite an amazing character.  But in her attendance upon children she is very negligent: she left her own son in the care of a man with a conviction for having had anal intercourse with a minor, and when I once left my son as a toddler with her, she let him tip a whole pot of glossy enamel aqua green coloured paint all over his body.  She even had described to me that she had seen that it was about to happen and did not know why she could not herself act to prevent the fact of the paint spill.  Now my own associations with that view of pushing the bicycle in the rain, were initially only of this particular person, whom had told me enough for me to know that she had somehow blamed the fact of her accident upon my own self.  Perhaps that is why.  But also it is that my mind can associate with a story from a group of her peers about a mountain bike race which they had a team competing in, and in which the Canadian person earlier mentioned was racing.  That Canadian was first a patient of the homeopathic practise of the amazing accident haver, and later of the other homeopath, and while in my acquaintance had delivered a baby in somewhat of a miraculous sort of condition given the state of her own health, with much unacknowledged support from me, given as my thanks to her for teaching me to cook a chocolate and beetroot cake.  The rain imagery could equitably have been her experience, which it is my preference to believe.  My every association with the second person was always through the first mentioned person here, because that is how we had met.  And there is in my memory a description of the second complaining about riding in the rain, but not that the first had her accident in the rain. 

However, that I do not know for definite in that instance need be held to the side, if we begin to restring together the sequence, in an example of how the work of Angels with Jinn together can cause that acts of wrongful sihr are reshaped so as to reform the real world: 

Puppet (then the person’s own hand operating it instead of a strangers); Mouth (that turns into an umbrella when that puppet grabs hold of it); (then the puppet holds the umbrella up and so) Pushing a bicycle in the rain (is in the rain experienced under an umbrella, of the shade falling); 

Then the final image in the sequence had been ???  

I do not know since all I have experienced was the bike rider using the puppet and mouth images as reason alone to blame me for their misery. 

But thereby, if the image sequence has arrived at the person whom enacted the ill deed in sexual conduct, finding themselves to be their own puppet master, then finding that by blaming the mouth the puppet on their hand reaches out for the mouth and it becomes an umbrella, and then they walk along in rest from work, (as in rest from actual bodily labour with a mind towards self discipline), then if that person still seeks anybody to blame for their own ills, they might only find a mirror. 

But here is the terror in the situation, in the self reflection in the mirror, within the pupil of the eye can be found the image of a man.  Seeing him make the view seem to all the more be the fault of the person seeing.  He is the Dajjal, but is also an innocent man, except in one thing alone: that upon meeting me, he tried to prove that the sequence of images of only puppet, mouth, and work rest, could be really proven to be the fault of me.  What happened between us in acquaintance is not for me to acknowledge, and only his own body can know. 

Whether or not this story is real I will leave to your own lives to find out. 

Believe in Isa, and in Allah, for the truth will be hard. 

Yet also in this world of illnesses, we can gradually awaken to how ridiculous this now will seem to us in the future in reality.  Why could we be so unable to control what we want when we are holding money in our hands?  I once made a jest about my name, when in Kyogle NSW in 2003, that Rebecca is like Rue Bear Kah, and just this evening, in connection with this disentangling of my own story from the lies about me which others may have imagined, I recognise that the sound accompanying the images being described had a sound alike to my name, in the place where I had been experiencing feeling to blame, but with a “d” sound also.  It is illustrative that the “d” sound was eminating from an acquaintance, whom was imposed upon by the same homeopath and his wife, to adapt himself to taking upon his own nature their envy of me.  That was in 1991, with me pregnant with my oldest son.  The man whom introduced me to the homeopath, was not yet then a man, still a boy of about nineteen, and the words I remember him forming by will were “I don’t want Becca”, after his mind was questioned in respect of whether he wanted to ‘tackle’ managing myself as though I a kafir to his responsibility.  His older sister is a friend, and over the past few years is one of two persons whom have really aided me in need by giving me money.  She gave me all the money in her pocket when we met, and her act is very appreciable.  (The other act of giving me any money when in need was from a Muslim man in the street whom observed me being in lack of enough self to be able to make a necessary decision, and his aid of only 60cents enabled me well enough. I will tend always to hide unaided need since my experience is of having been given material aid only as method of entrappment into a semblence of being in sin.  So the instant mentioned first is truly a well minded act.) 

There is one other matter I ought mention here.  The moral of the story of course.  It is that in all the nightmares of the Human condition which have passed through my mind for as many years as I am old, my own sustained belief has always been to never believe that any such images can be used to account for any ill in any person other than in my own mind for it having been possible to imagine such.  This attitude is what will sustain reality in the dis-unifying of the world we had known, and reassembly of the matter of our Dreams into reality as we Pray for.  But most importantly here it need to be noted that my three sons are all sustaining their own minds equitably in account in Allah.  Such is the degree of our forbearance of antiquity. 

Of this story as an allegory about the making of an allegory, what is untold is best left so, at least until there is another wrapping around this tale. 

Believe 

World of belief in God

Is just so not

What those whom fail it

Suppose us believers believe

God to be

Judge faith not

For belief is by definition

True to reason

In experiential conditions

So defy not

What your own life’s transitions

Have so far failed to provide of

And if you can not yet believe

In God

And every he bequeath

Then just believe in life

Being sustained by

A mysterious unity of energy

For what else is He

If not singularity

Too large for us to imagine

Too minute in action

For our detection

Too loving of our being

To let us end with existing

If only we forget momentarily

In Him need

For it is of us

Those parts

We have to have for love

In God above

Which fail to believe

In
constance existing

Which are causal to existence ceasing

And yet within

The key is

That every

Perfect unity

Of Faith in Love

Of God above

Of reason

Of science and belief

Of hope to make the Earth our home a better place

Is the aspect of us

The Soul in living unity with

What will not cease

Without God recreating us

Once again

Every moment

So well we are beloved

In the face of the worst that has become of us

Was 

Was he too attractive

To be talking to me

What was He believing about me

And why had he approached me

For while I tried and tried

To make him take me

As I am

Just a bit too daggy

For what he likes of his own manhood

So therefore

Thought I

Right from the start

Of our conversation

I am just not his type

As attractive as he might be

So if he will see

That I had not tried

To get him to like me

Then perhaps he might

Realise he knows not yet

What there is to like

About me

Because I was

Sitting outside in the city

Alone at night

And did not

Want

To be approached by any man

No matter how attractive

Nor matter that his mind

Beautifully intelligent

He describes and self defines

His Spirit alike

To mine

Giving no indication of why

But to my mind

Might he find

That of course I am above all too daggy

When approached on the city street at night

By a complete stranger

With a too far too sexy mind

That seems now to have adhered to mine

In love like

Just that he said to find

Unbelievable

And so had I

Until without his phone number

All I could think to was cry

And poetry aplenty write

When other work calls

Is that I once before was alright

Being the person who met him

But now am too daggy for even my self to like

So his attractive personality might

Just return his mind into

Bizarre un-kissed night

For to gently remind

An advertisement I did write

And semblance like

A public announcement

Of the well to do men’s

Brothel opening night

Is that my anger is formidable

Because there at

Our parting had

I shown him what

The nights walk

Might have painted me as

And in permanence if

He is not who

Answers the ad just right

Is that was I a dag

Lacking only social regard that

Or just too fat

Because to my mind

His intensely attractive

Approach to me

Was only

Too likeable to trust

To specially pretty for love

Or was I only too ignorant of

But in his real esteem

Why the bastard made me want to scream

Of formidable endurance in ice cream

Who could but DreamThat an accident Of our coincidenceWould have caused that betweenWe have found ourselves relatingWithin Kiri ElaisonBringing new meaningTo a marriage of convenienceThis is the Dance 

Was it of Non-believers only that this is Me 

The kaffir

Though migaloo

Their name

Our language has too

And less shame

But hasnamuss those who

Seem to have sprung up amongst us

Can not believe

Themselves not originally

So are able to believe

Yet without only
constance

And sadly detrimentally

To who can do them to be

Is the hasnamuss key

The kaffir not so able

To be managed well

While migaloo

Just prepared to be

Their own body

Letting our will do their wants and needs

Occasionally inhabiting

So sharing in accountability

Is this my linguistic analysis

Correct also to you

For the migaloo

Is an unusual beast

Who is gladly being proved

In Animist cultures

To want to accept

What is love’s consequence

So when it came to

Who but the migaloo

Aspiration to be

So insensitive to me

As kaffir be

So forming hasnamuss ideas

Of the reality including queers

Of potential possibility

Well what they tried to cause

To me to be

And perhaps you also

Was that they built a glass house

In their own imaginations

Fuelled of course by our own

Tricked into their beliefs

A glass house in the sky

For the minds

Of any person whom did not like

Their way to be

Of refuting time

But yet admired by them of mental capacity

As though our brains of nobility

Became baked into a great big pie

Of our own selves to eat

From which impossible it can be

To Dream at night

Without their taking a bit

Of our Human identity

And persecuting our memory

With false ideology

As though able to make us believe

We had no Islam in deed

Could not remember our own mind to read

And that whose mind

An open book to this seed

An open house

For any body who buys it

Their games of self hate

To take a look

To see what denies it

Yet in Human mentality please

For what sort of people are these

Relying upon a glass house of leaves

Dropped by the trees

Of Human wood

Knowing we should

Never forget these

And never be letting it pass

That any migaloo so much as farts

Or breaths

But the kaffir who

Have no worth in mind

Why the hasnamuss favour them to do

Us all into oblivion

For these so Human like

Whose heads are well read

Just simply don’t like

That a Human gets time to stand in

And their mind reading fees

They demand of us with no please

No thankyou

No informing

So fail us of our memory

That at any moment

We are in mind open to them

To the forgivers

Of our Humanity

And those who so did

Are as ridiculous a lid

As to have made up their dreams

From the types of commodities

That with they identified

When they decided

To turn away from Animist faith

So in a tupperware party

Arrived the containment of dreams

Combined with

A toilet and sugar show stream

With a floor and door show

Type of restrainment

The enforced upon

Those in their tupperware glass

Assuming of us

That when without

Sweets in the mouth

Shit and urine coming out

Then what we leave on the floor

Or let through the door

Might be what we owe them

As though they are the only

Folk with access to any

Particle of what is in my memory

But to that tune rich

Have they stitched

Their own fanciful interpretive

Meaning

While portraying my self

As theirs for bleeding

Locked into the Tupperware shelf

Or somebody’s glass teapot

Perhaps the one with a cosy

For it shed the wool that

Maybe myself is too dozy

To have believed

In those Dreams with them

In which they train Human children

To be like them

And then seem to sell

To policemen

Off whose false interpretations

They breath in

Imposing

Yet so faulting

Only their own life

In their mysteriously

Well practised

Yet sadly poorly skilled

Timing drills

The whole electronic media

In its displacements

Of locations

Seems to have been caused so as to stabilise them

For what form of life could this

The call of a hassnamuss

That a banana in pyjamas

Came down some stairs

Only because

They imagined of me to be

Very politically

Defaming them

Which I am actually

As a consequence

Of a need to flush out their

Assumptions of me

It seems to be

Our way to know

What of us they suppose

Yet for my money

Who lives off their greed

Of managing to be

Who closed all the doors

Except that they imagined control of

Against me

Rather be in poverty

For it seems to be

The hasnamuss of course

Whom are yet obtaining money in blaming me

For no idea other than their own existences

Yet could any child have stopped them

Proving only that no child should be

Able to own and spend any money

And with that key

Just thank them

For the lesson in

Never imagining

The World Telling Me Its End 

What will the world

When being Muslim became

Subjugated and defamed

In seeking truth

By Arab’s imagination

That the culture of
Arabia

Is the only Islamic way

That my efforts to attain

An identity in belief to sustain

Of my own people’s place

In Islam no disgrace

Are being prevented

By Arabs insisting I need

The language of
Arabia

To portray myself as a believer

While the policing of this place

Governed today by invaders

Imposed upon me

That it could be seditious

And imprison-able

To so learn to be

Able to speak in Arabic

Yet being an Aborigine of Australia

I know my own language word

Stands as well in Allah

My indigenous comprehension

Of Religion

Surpassing through ancient memory

My other schooled in keys

Which save me daily

From the police

Projecting upon me

That if it is not the sedition of

Speaking the Arabic tongue

Then indeed must it be

Seditious

To claim to be Muslim

This wing to sing from

Long sung but

We are who knew not of

Until it had begun

Among those of us

Not yet converted

Before our land was invaded

Is arisen

In decisions

Of what is the law we must deal with

What marks us ever to be Muslim

Regardless of any police diversions

Allah is the indivisible

He is everything but especially that we have not yet found

He is not what we have corrupted of the world

He causes no wrong

He is the unity of organisation which enables life to continue in constant re-creating

He is endlessness itself

He is the source of any beneficence, all mercy, and His is every Grace existing

Allah is the glue holding reality together

We work to his tune and by believing in Him can we know faith

In Faith we can realise His constant recreation of our life is fully dependant upon us working to his tune,

The Tune of living recreation each moment never forgetting or denying His is every cause in reality,

What Allah will not cause, exists because We have forgiven that He might not need to,

What Allah will not cause is only that world we are still in which is ending by our belief in him,

Thus by our suffering in accepting His love so as to Love him more perfectly,

And thereby denying our nature needless suffering,

Can we learn that His nature is to need us as we need Him,

In equal degree but that His Love is every above in magnitude and density,

So that we can Love Allah better is that we can receive of His love more properly,

Be one with all of the Ummah of Believers in Him, whether Jew, Christian, or Muslim, or of any other externalised belief identification, when alive in Him we are in Islam, and only those of us whom so recognise are able to manifest that the Ummah is, and that ever at Earth is and was the Ummah one unity of real belief in Allah.

By work of the Ummah to know what is of us the impurities which Allah is not, can Allah enable us to know what He is:

ALLAH (The Name Of God)

اللهالذى لا اله الا

AR-RAHMAN (The Beneficent)

الرحمن

AR-RAHIM (The Mercifull)

الرحيم

AL-MALIK (The Sovereign Lord)

الملك

AL-QUDDUS (The Holy)

القدوس

AS-SALAM (The Source Of Peace)

السلام

AL-MU’MIN (The Guardian Of Faith)

المؤمن

AL-MUHAYMIN (The Protector)

المهيمن

AL-AZIZ (The Mighty)

العزيز

AL-JABBAR (The Compeller)

الجبار

AL-MUTAKABBIR (The Majestic)

المتكبر

AL-KHALIQ (The Creator)

الخالق

AL-BARI (The Evolver)

البارىء

AL-MUSAWWIR (The Fashioner)

المصور

AL-GHAFFAR (The Forgiver)

الغفار

AL-QAHHAR (The Subduer)

القهار

AL-WAHHAB (The Bestover)

الوهاب

AR-RAZZAQ (The Provider)

الرزاق

AL-FATTAH (The Opner)

الفتاح

AL-ALIM (The All Knowning)

العليم

AL-QABID(The Constrictor)

القابض

AL-BASIT (The Expender)

الباسط

AL-KHAFID (The Abaser)

الخافض

AR-RAFI (The Exalter)

الرافع

AL-MUIZZ (The Honourer)

المعز

AL-MUZILL (The Dishonourer)

المذل

AS-SAMIE (The All Hearing)

السميع

AL-BASIR (The All Seeing)

البصير

AL-HAKAM (The Judge)

الحكم

AL-ADL (The Just)

العدل

AL-LATIF (The Subtle One)

اللطيف

AL-KHABIR (The Aware)

الخبير

AL-HALIM (The Forbearing One)

الحليم

AL-AZIM (The Great One)

العظيم

AL-GHAFUR (The All-Forgiving)

الغفور

ASH-SHAKUR (The Appreciative)

الشكور

AL-ALI (The Most High)

العلى

AL-KABIR (The Most Great)

الكبير

AL-HAFIZ (The Preserver)

الحفيظ

AL-MUQIT (The Maintainer)

المقيت

AL-HASEEB (The Reckoner)

الحسيب

AL-JALIL (The Sublime One)

الجليل

AL-KARIM (The Generous One)

الكريم

AR-RAQIB (The Watchfull)

الرقيب

AL-MUJIB (The Responsive)

المجيب

AL-WASI (The All-Embracing)

الواسع

AL-HAKEEM (The Wise)

الحكيم

AL-WADUD (The Loving)

الودوود

AL-MAJEED (The Most Glorious One)

المجيد

AL-BA’ITH (The Resurector)

الباعث

ASH-SHAHEED (The Witness)

الشهيد

AL-HAQQ (The Truth)

الحق

AL-WAKIL (The Trustee)

الوكيل

AL-QAWI (The Most Strong)

القوى

AL-MATEEN (The Firm One)

المتين

AL-WALI (The Protecting Friend)

الولى

AL-HAMEED (The Praiseworthy)

الحميد

AL-MUHSI (The Reckoner)

المحصى

AL-MUBDI (The Originator)

المبدىء

AL-MU’ID (The Restorer)

المعيد

AL-MUHYI (The Giver Of Life)

المحى

AL-MUMIT (The Creator Of Death)

المميت

AL-HAYEE (The Alive)

الحى

AL-QAYYUM (The Self-subsisting)

القيوم

AL-WAJID (The Finder)

الواجد

AL-MAJID (The Noble)

الماجد

AL-WAHID (The Unique)

الواحد

AL-SAMAD (The Eternal)

الصمد

AL-QADIR (The Able)

القادر

AL-MUQTADIR (The Powerful)

المقتدر

AL-MUQADDIM (The Expediter)

المقدم

AL-MU’AKHKHIR (The Delayer)

المؤخر

AL-AWWAL (The First)

الأول

AL-AAKHIR (The Last)

الآخر

AZ-ZAHIR (The Manifest)

الظاهر

AL-BATIN (The Hiddeen)

الباطن

AL-WALI (The Governor)

الوالى

AL-MUTA’ALI (The Most Exalted)

المتعالى

AL-BARR (The Source Of All Goodness)

البر

AL-TAWWAB (The Acceptor Of Repentance)

التواب

AL-MUNTAQIM (The Avenger)

المنتقم

AL-’AFUW (The Pardoner)

العفو

AR-RAOOF (The Compassionate)

الرؤوف

MALIK-UL-MULK (The Eternal Owner Of Sovereignty)

مالك الملك

ZUL-JALAL-E-WAL-IKRAM (The Lord Of Majesty and Bounty)

ذوالجلال والاكرام

AL-MUQSIT (The Equitable)

المقسط

AL-JAAMAY (The Gatherer)

الجامع

AL-GHANI (The Self-Sufficient)

الغنى

AL-MUGHNI (The Enricher)

المغنى

AL-MAANAY (The Preventer)

المانع

AD_DAARR (The Distresser)

الضار

AN-NAAFAY (The Propitious)

النافع

AN-NOOR (The Light)

النور

AL-HAADI (The Guide)

الهادى

AL-BADI (The Incomparable)

البديع

AL-BAQI (The Everlasting)

الباقى

AL-WARIS (The Supreme Inheritor)

الوارث

AR-RASHEED (The Guide To The Right Path)

الرشيد

AS-SABOOR (The Patient)

Here is a poem Allah enabled in my pen:

Eternity is Accountability 

Elohim Allah Will I be able to name him allHe who is first and foreverEven when I knew neverElohim Allah is why I am that I weatherHis Holy unending GraceIn each matter of my own will I faceHis indivisible mercySo not one might I disgraceIn no cry of mineCould I first have named HeElohim Allah will I beFor His unknowable worthWe ride our own hurstIn His strong standing GraceThat we have no faceElohim Allah every Jinn be in His seenUnending Forever Indivisible TogetherIf every word I know forI could string out this poem forWhat would I amount to at allBut that I am too poorIn every other of life’s callsI am responsible forEvery name when breathed who callsExcept His Absolute one and allOf God being His Forgiving meBy his forgiveness thusSpeak Elohim Allah with meThat every word could be his name in EternityExcept that I know my own responsibilitySo by only my own breath will I be 

Here is another Dua, not by my pen, but another to know for being able to feel yourself well in one Ummah, it has more words, for we need more when our minds are not yet about to feel all our feelings for Allah within less words: 

O Allah, O Karim,
Please have Mercy on me.
O Allah, O Karim,
Please forgive me
for the sins I committed in the past
and those I will commit in the future.

I do du’a
that you grant Muhammad
the Highest Station in
Paradise.
Rabinna Aataina
Fiduniya Hasinathow
Wa Fil Akhirati Hasinathow,
Wakina Adhab innaar
Ameen… 

Praise Allah alone when our mind can with one unity begin to Dream again in reality

Thanks and Salam

Alaykumuassalamuwaramathuallahiwarabarakathudallah Rebecca

Is nine am in Australia

Too late in the day for

Professional American cybernet speculators

For this I claim to

Have sustained is

Being secreted through

A wanted white wife

Was never the black man’s strife

Nor the black mother

The white man’s cover

That a blockage through

This certainty in me

Police do the shoes are

On whose feet bar

The exploration

By who sees in reality

Of what station

The deal done for

Whose reel

Check in this web log for

What seemed unreal

Of Religion’s long feel

To be reality

For whom ever it may be

Knowing liking is having to have

And different from what to want

Is that love not like did this jaunt

But to want alone to work the point

Upon which every nation

Will fall to God’s Grace

In Eternity Djinn did the bridge in the first place

So to those who are really at war

Should peace not be provident for

But that it was not your

Peace to accuse for that

What did you expect

To what is bereft

The season give you for

The young to question this driven

My cause has striven

For its purpose winning

In Allah learning

My young yearning

That your weakness expose

How your disease might I depose

Caused to falter only by falling

To its own mother’s calling

But never expect

That again might I tell

Of the result well sought

In my own doing wrought

For forced

To undo it I was

Only by loss of love

Yet no loss from above

So stablizing  my brain

Chemistry plain

Needed no medication

Yet this to entertain

Instructed you me

As to what prevented

Your call from

Receiving and following

Deeds made in love

But if what prevents

Is that which caused

The preventative vent

To explore

Reason need your

For whom might not

When what in Allah

Is blockage forever for

To what can undo

The expectations so shoed

That Eternity’s hours

Can now more properly show out 

Commenced in our heads

And every who opposed

Will fund this its flow

For every desire true

Of wanting only to work through

Every fear of tomorrow

To know it was false to

Forget the labouring will to work

That will bring us all through

Salvations true