Book recommendation 03: Muhammad by Martin LingsBook recommendation 03: Muhammad by Martin Lings3 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
Muhammad: His Life Based on The Earliest Sources
By Martin Lings
Amidst numerous exemplary scholarly works depicting the life of our noble Prophet (peace be upon him), Martin Lings' Muhammad: His Life Based on the Earliest Sources stands out as an exemplary source, providing a whole new account of the life of the Prophet, perhaps new details that haven't been elaborated in other accounts.
Lings provides a wealth of detail on the life of Muhammad, the time and place of many Quranic revelations, and the foundation of Islam, all based exclusively on 8th- and 9th-century Arabic biographical sources and collections of the sayings attributed to Muhammad. General readers will find a well-written, straightforward chronological narrative; Muslim readers will appreciate the favorable treatment of Muhammad; while specialists will find a faithful and convenient rendering of source material.
However, his definitive vivid account of the life of Prophet Muhammad -peace be upon him-,
Shh.Shh.Shh.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I don't want you to cry.
This is my mistake
I have died.
Forget about me
I am no bird.
No weightless beauty
I find so absurd
Your love for me is strange,
But I cannot deny how loved I felt
To embraced by you
Your love is what I felt
Our hearts in sync
Our breathing the same
You're so sweet
Just a little like poison
You were addictive
I was so gullible.
Now look where we are
All because of your perfection
Your eyes may cry
But I know you're just laughing
So hush my darling
I am not mad at you
This was my mistake
This came of Cat and Mouse
Has finally reached it's bitter end
Look who's left
The greedy mouse
Left empty handed
You took what you could get
And left a champion
The mouse has finally won
But you miss me don't be crazy
You're crying now aren't you?
AttentionMisha found America agreeable, for the most part there was the Boston traffic, but it wasn't as bad as Moscow's, and the food was overly rich and too abundant. But the people of the city were positively warm compared to the Spartan attitudes he knew, he hadn't had a single dollar stolen from him, and the university kids couldn't keep their eyes off of him. Not even the boys. He'd heard catcalls walking by a gathering of young men, the kind he'd learned to call "bros." It was his hair, maybe, or the way stubble refused to show on his face: in America, you could be anything other people wanted you to be, it seemed.Attention5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He told Sasha about it on the phone, who laughed at him. "You're getting a big head. The Americans are gawking at you because you don't look like them."
"I don't think that's it." Misha took a handful of almonds and threw them in his mouth. He knew Sasha would doubt him he always did, dwelling in what he called his "nativist cynicism." It didn't seem to involve m
Happiness and How To Find ItHappiness and How To Find It3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Today happiness has gone down 35 points,
While sadness is up 43 points,
Which is a record high for this year.
Today the president announced a bold new initiative
In order to generate happiness,
He's shipping in 100,000 puppies in from overseas.
Projections indicate that those puppies could
boost happiness by as much as 30%.
President: "America needs happiness. When you
Want happiness, you don't sit around and wait for it."
The national party of Life Fulfillment issued a statement
Today claiming that the president should be
Placing an emphasis on long term happiness,
And that this is only a temporary fix,
As those puppies will only be regular dogs in a year.
Andrew Socolovoyich, house min. leader: "America
Needs long term solutions. The president should
Be encouraging citizens to pick up a hobby. It's not as
Fun as puppies maybe, but people with hobbies
Usually live rich, happy lives."
And in local news: Have you ever wondered what
It would be like to live without happiness at all?
A Reason to LiveIf only she had the guts to actually do it, to just leap among the cold waves and sink in death among the fish. She breathed in the smell and taste of saltwater, and water sprays hit her face, neck, and chest. She shivered slightly in the breeze from the waves, but she wasn’t really bothered by the chill. What weighed on her mind was something much deeper than the weather.A Reason to Live3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
A pang of apprehension penetrated her heart as she envisioned her body being plunged into the water and weighted down by the strong waves. She thought about what it would be like to gulp in mouthful after mouthful of water, choking and never feeling any relief, but she didn’t think the pain could be any worse than what she was already dealing with.
“Aimée!” The young woman moved her arms in circular motions as she tried to keep her balance. Her mother’s call startled her, and for a brief moment she thought God might be
Day 3: Protection- SignificanceWake up… Dress up… Eat… Rehearse… Practice… Performance… Sleep…Day 3: Protection- Significance3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Wake up… Dress up… Eat… Rehearse… Practice… Performance… Sleep…
Wake up… Dress up… Eat… Rehearse… Practice… Performance… Sleep…
What was the meaning of life when events occurred in a habitual manner? It had been exciting to discover that I had inherited the family talent, yes, it was a wonderful discovery for me, but I never noticed that twinkle of anxiety in their ruby eyes, nor the sigh of relief when they watched me pick at random notes off the bank of black and white keys with interest and excitement. Back then, I had expected a life of happiness with a blessed family who is known for their musical heritage... It took a decade to finally grasp that life wasn’t as black and white as it seemed.
I lived to please my parents, to make them crac
Complex 57The slick of black, heady oil rolled across the floor, staining the raw surface of the clinic, and the young boy collapsed back into the examination table. He was pale, even for someone who had never seen sunlight, with milky eyes and black spittle hanging from cracked lips.Complex 573 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Of those we've seen, the virus has spread most quickly in this patient." Doctor Ripnar was a tall man who tended to sway when he walked, but had hands as deft and precise as any surgeon and he used them now to steady and restrain the boy. "His blood is turning into the same substance you see at your feet." he continued, "We might have been able to keep him alive long enough to find a cure, but we don't have the resources for everyone."
Adjudicator Lawrence nervously straightened his tie; his pink and sweaty face bulbous with stress. "Everyone?" he asked, "How many have been infected?"
"It's in the air supply, Adjudicator. We're all infected."
The Adjudicator lurched, virulent juices churning in his stomach. He hat
Editing your writingSo, there are a lot of tutorials for writing; tutorials for character's names, personalities, storylines, and everything else under the sun. Don't get me wrong, some of those tutorials are pure gold. But, and keep in mind I'm no avid tutorial-reader and I haven't read all of them, I have yet to find one about editing. And it's about as important as the actual writing, because what's the writing if you can't read it? So, here I am, making one. If you've already read this far into the introduction, do me and you a favour, and read the rest of it, you might find some of it useful and I won't just be talking in a void. Please?Editing your writing3 years ago in Settings More Like This
View of an Editor
So! You have your piece you're going to edit, haven't you? What's the first step, before you start editing? You have to get in the right frame of mind. Repeat after me! My writing is not perfect. Yeah, that's right. It's not. It won't be even after editing it. Writing can be wonderful, amazing, beautiful, emotional, and brilliant, yes,
South Park-Blush BlushSouth Park-Blush7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Stan and I were playing some video games in his room as usual. Just another normal day doing nothing really.
"Hey, Kyle, are you hungery?"
"Wanna go grab a bite somewhere?"
"After I beat you again, you just want to leave because I always beat you."
"Psh! I was just asking a nice question, and you have to go all mean."
"hmmm?" Stan had a 'i have no idea what you are talking about' tone in his voice. I beat Stan, again, and we went to get some lunch.
"Alright, bet was you would buy my lunch if I won." I said.
"Geez, I will be broke by the end of summer if I keep making bets like this..."
The Journal CHP 2 - SP Fan FicChapter Two Keeping SecretsThe Journal CHP 2 - SP Fan Fic5 years ago in Drama More Like This
Hell's Pass Hospital situated far from South Park and nestled back in the mountains had never appeared more cold and uninviting to Kyle. The walls white and glaring closed in on all sides. The doctors and nurses scurrying about the long, empty hallways appeared like ants bustling to and from their work caring little about the short redheaded teen who sat curled in upon himself alone in a stiff plastic chair.
Sitting outside Eric Cartman's hospital room, Kyle stared down at his homework journal. The pages wrinkled and bent as they dried from the snow. Not remembering when he had dropped the book, an officer on the scene had retrieved the item and returned it to the redhead.
Out at Stark's Pond the ambulance had arrived almost the moment Kyle had shut off his cell phone. The boy had crawled back up the snowy bank and huddled next to Cartman's unconscious form. Kyle was glad that the waiting had been brief. The minute the police and medics appeared at th
SP-STYLE- Normal? chp.2 South Park not normal- STYLE chp.2SP-STYLE- Normal? chp.27 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Do you REALLY want to know who I like? I was surprised, but I nodded. He sighed and put his hand on his fore head and looked like he was really frustrated and nervous! He put his had down from his face and looked at me like
He wished he didnt want to say anything; instead he fixed his fingers into a pointing position, and pointed, in front of my face.
I stared at the finger pointing at my face. My mind was blank. I didnt know what to do. I looked from Stans finger to his face. He looked serious. His face was also staring at mine with a not joking kinda face.
W-what? I said. Stan then smirked.
HA HA! Dude! You should see your face! You look as scared
Into Your ArmsInto Your Arms4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It was just a typical snowy morning in South Park, Colorado. The sky was a clear blue with minimal clouds and the air smelled sweet. A red-headed boy woke to the sound of his alarm clock going off loudly and obnoxiously. He glared at his clock and slammed it off. He sat up, yawning and stretching, not at all excited about the school day ahead. Ruffling his hair, he got up slowly out of bed and donned his green pants, orange jacket, and green hat, barely attempting to brush his hair.
"Kyle, bubie, you're gonna be late for school!" His mother, Shelia Broflovski, called from downstairs. Kyle Broflovski looked back at his clock and realized his mother was right. The bus came in five minutes! He tied his shoes quickly then grabbed his bag and ran downstairs. He ran into the kitchen where is father, little brother Ike, and mother were eating. He grabbed a piece of toast, gave everyone a kiss then ran out the door.
As he closed the door, the cold wind whipped at his cheeks. He began sprinting
The TypewriterThe TypewriterThe Typewriter3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It began and ended with a word.
Not a particularly strong or powerful word, but a word that changed everything. It wasn't too long or difficult to spell. It wasn't uncommon either. In fact, it was a perfectly ordinary word, but, I suppose, its commonplace origin is what made it so special.
I loved that word.
But the word doesn't mean much without the story along with it and I was always one for telling good stories.
I ignored the call from the other room and remained seated. That tone wasn't unfamiliar. Taking a bite from my toast, I waited for him to call again. It wouldn't be more than ten—
"Sammy! Come quickly! I've gone an' done it!" he shouted. I turned just as he poked his head into the room with a bright smile across his face.
"What did you do?" I asked as I walked towards his study. Chris had said those same words nearly twelve times this week. Every other day he had called me in for some discovery.
I pushed open the door t
Her Daily MasqueradeToday her parents ask how her day has beenHer Daily Masquerade3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
By now the answer has been well rehearsed
She insists to them that everything is fine
But the reality is the reverse
In fact she’s the antonym of the word ‘fine’
This is due to her creatively cursed mind
Steeped in a world of such simplicity
Yesterday friends asked how she has been coping
Waiting for their turn to talk, do they care?
They just see a happy, contented princess
Not a pensive, vacant, glazed over stare
In fact she’s the opposite of contented
Restless and at war with reality
Battling feelings of alienation
From unsupportive friends and family
Tomorrow strangers will ask her what is wrong
But in white lies she has become well versed
Knowing that the tar black pit of torrid truth
Will not dilute and only make things worse
She’s living the antonym of the word ‘truth’
But her lies are not designed to betray
Just to cover the cracks and to smother those
SP - A Serious Case of Cooties CHP 1Chapter One CootiesSP - A Serious Case of Cooties CHP 14 years ago in Humor More Like This
Stan Marsh sat at his dining room table one February morning shuffling through a stack of red, pink, and white construction paper. With a thick pair of child proof scissors, a large bottle of glue, and a jar of silver glitter, Stan set about making a Valentine's Day card for his girlfriend Wendy Testaburger. He cut carefully along the edge of a paper heart, trying to get the shape smooth and curved. Setting down the scissors, he grabbed the bottle of glue and, kneeling in his chair so that he could hold his hands up above his head, Stan drew swirly patterns around the perimeter of the paper heart. When he had finished, he sprinkled the silver glitter, taking care not to let any fall upon his mother's kitchen table. Shaking the heart free of excess sparkles, Stan held the heart up to the light. It shimmered with gloppy drops of glue and smeared glitter, but Stan felt proud anyway. Wendy would love it. She always liked the things Stan made for her.
Hell Can Take YouWhere will you take me?Hell Can Take You3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Where I cannot cry.
where we do no die.
I ache to see your face,
To say one last thing.
I live with everyday.
At my still beating heart.
Like the bottom of the ocean
I'd always get lost
Searching for the words to say
My goodbyes to you
I didn't expect this to end suddenly
You went away that day
And I wish I did too
No matter what you do
Try to remember something
We won't meet again
I am positive of that
Don't get the wrong idea
I never loved your ass
You were there
You always were
A itch that could not be scratched
So enjoy your time
This is the day
I bid your memories
A slow, final farewell
K2: Breakin These Walls Pt. 1 My feet flew over the ground, faster than they had ever gone before. I turned myK2: Breakin These Walls Pt. 15 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
head slightly to see if he was following me, thankfully he was just screaming from the
porch. I turned my head back to where I was running.
I skidded to a stop in front of a small house and quickly collapsed in the tiny
front yard. My hands slipped over my face to cover my eyes. Warm trickles of water
rushed down my cheeks as I started to sob uncontrollably. What was I going to do? He
had kicked me out so many times before, I couldn't even count them all, but the beatings...a cold shiver flew up my spine at the thought. The beatings, they had been
a recent outcome to his new obsession with alcohol, partying, and getting home drunk
and angry. The thing was, I didn't even recognize my reflection in the mirror anymore.
My eyes were black and puffy, my lip had a giant gash in it, and well, for the rest of
my body...I can't even describe it without crying more.
I brought my k
Sanguine in name onlyangre de cristoSanguine in name only4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
bruises things I touch
purples them in spring
when my fire sounds
lilac in fury
it is enough
to push the angry
the fire poppies
into a future sea
BryceHe always stands very close to people when he speaks to them, staring with those huge golden eyes and leaning in ever so slightly, as if he is craving their touch and the feel of their breath and their hands more than anything. This is the first thing you notice when you meet him, the closeness. You ache, for a reason you don't know, to bridge the gap. To touch him. Your fingers twitch towards him but you keep your hands beside you.Bryce3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
And then you hear him speak, and everything else seems loud and bright and harsh compared to the gentleness of him. His lips are chapped and his big galaxy earrings glitter and his hair stands straight up and his freckles are like kisses, and you think he will sound like all the others and then he speaks; he speaks and something shifts inside you and a little storm begins to crackle and swell inside your chest and suddenly you love him more than anything.
And then he finishes asking you the time, and you tell him, and he walks on.
Sonnet 4 for my grandmotherSonnet 44 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Her flowers, softly pressed against her palm,
have lost their quiet gift of sunlit breath
in lieu of gentle summer's song, this psalm
hushed now by looming mute of living death.
The owl's lonely mating cry rings out
against the fjord today, and still I find
her shorn cloth adorning my clouded route
home. Roughly textured skin of night confined
my skin; however, the small trestles built
from earth to hidden light behind the moon
guide me to her in sleep. Her petals lilt
toward my lap, hold me until the room
becomes a slowing top. They fall the way
she falls. The dark blends calmly into gray.
Helicase Helio and I were always sitting on the stairs, chatting about the lamina and occasionally making snide remarks about ribosomes. There wasn't much for us to do. Our job was to simply be, and let the RNA polymerase scribble down the letters on our foreheads when they came around every once in a while. Helio was a G, I was a C. It wasn't exactly fulfilling, I suppose. There wasn't much to be filled. So to pass the time, we talked.Helicase3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"You ever wonder?" Helio asked.
"About...well...what's out there." Helio and I were rooted to the stairs, quite happily, but it was awkward to move in. He kind of twisted in the general direction of the closest pore. "Out in the cytoplasm."
"I haven't," I admitted. "What's there to wonder about?"
"That's exactly the thing. I have no idea." Helio sighed, gazing into the distance. "Somehow it feels like we pl
Chocolate ChaosRandom pastry movement: brownie in motion.Chocolate Chaos5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This