Sometimes silence,
Let yourself be carried away
On the barely a ripple,
Wave of silence

A golden

All cosied up
On a chair
Fluffy socks

Not willing to incur
Heating costs
Yet still warm

Silence says
Nothing more
That who
You are

There’s something special
To a solitary silence
Something nurturing
And restorative

A real present tense sense
Sense of who, what, how,
And where
You are

Manifold Interests & Other ADHD Perks

A silhouette of a head, with the letters ADHD on it, pointing out from the head are squiggly felt wiry things, and flowers.
Photo by Tara Winstead on

I have a distinct memory, of all the thing I was ever interested in (when I was much younger than I am now), being made into daily practices. Somehow, I would find a way to return to them again and again, day after day. Nowadays though, it seems like I can’t find the focus or the memory, or perhaps the executive functioning to keep up that kind of regularity apropos of no external structures.

Perhaps I tied my interests to activities I would undertake regularly. Like with writing, I regularly woke up in the middle of the nigh during my GCSE years. Looking back I think it was likely that the stress was impacting my sleep. My sleep is often quite sensitive to being influenced by stressors in my life. That said, if I woke up in the middle of the night, I would bake some cookies, them load either Julia Nunes or Taylor Swift up on YouTube, and get to writing. I woke up in the middle of the night often enough in my teens, that I had quite a regular writing practice. Or with rollerblading, it would always be on a weekend, and always along the thames pathway from Battersea to Chelsea.

I suppose there’s also something about the relatively fewer amount of responsibilities I had as a teenager than I do now. As a single mother/full time student/ trainee counsellor, there’s so many more things “to-do” that it seems like the energy for pursing things I enjoy with the regularity (probably) needed to improve, happens very sporadically- (when the kids are away, I find myself returning to journaling, and meditation, and maybe with e ought time to practice scales and chords, yet when they’re back, there’s barely enough executive functioning to go around, what with keeping track of all the things that need keeping track of when you have young children in the house.)

I have this little voice in the back of my head, that’s quite persistent in reminding me not to forget *whatever hobby/ fun interest of mine catches my attention presently. And the high I get from engaging in things I find fun, means that once I’m sat down, I tend to zone in completely, losing sense of time and place, and then I’ve spent four hours knitting something, and quite possibly have to run out of the door to pick the kids up, suddenly aware of the need to pee, and thirst wracking my throat.

My ideal would be to be able to dedicate myself a bit at a time to all of my interests every day. there would be time for painting, time for writing poetry. I would spend time writing any of the novels that I’ve left mid stories, characters on the cusp of their respective character development journeys. I’d find time to bake, and find new nutritional recipes to try out. I’d finally get round to re-learning how to sew using a sewing machine, and I’d spend time speaking to guests on my podcasts. There would also be time to play around editing videos, and polish off my website, playing with and further developing my web building skills. I’d also create time to keep going with teaching myself to code.

It is a blessing, being filled with so many things that spark my interests, being so deeply interested in many things, yet the challenges of time-blindness, and difficulties with focus, alongside the organisational requirements of ‘running a household’ as well, as the time and focus I put into parenting, talkies of learning and CPDs- I find myself mourning how quickly time passes by.

So here I am, returning to one of my early interests, blogging. I’m curious to see how long I can keep up some level of consistency with it, and I’m happy, I’ve found a few moments to return to it.

I suppose that’s why so many of my previous blog posts, are typo filled, peppered with run-on sentences, and side thoughts cosseted in parentheses. I’d aways try to get my fingers to catch up with my thoughts (always an impossible task- better informed about this now, having learned about the hyperactivity of the minds that can come alongside ADHD), and then rush to hit publish, before I forgot. Sometimes I’d schedule it to be published on a certain day, sure I’d come back and make the necessary edits in the time between when I’d written the first draft and the date I’d scheduled it to go live, and inevitably I’d forget about the post’s existence, until I got a notification from WordPress.

Something I’ve been embracing the years since I last wrote here is the idea of perfect imperfection, allowing rooms for mistakes, and the mantra “done is better than perfect” and “good enough, move on”.

Holding myself to extremely high standards, is one thing, not allowing myself to progress due to minor imperfections is quite another.

So that’s it.

I’ll end here.

If you enjoyed this, thanks you for your time, I’d love to know what stood out for you, and your thoughts and insights in the comments.

With warmth,

Fine Words Weave

Fine Words Weave: (2) Letter To Allah with Saffiyah | show notes & transcript

Show Notes

Hey dear listener, this episode our guest is Saffiyah of Slaya’s diary. Together we delve into her poetic journey, we speak about grief and experiencing loss at an early age, of hope, and of how much writing can be a pouring out that can make space for clarity to emerge. You can connect with Saffiyah at


Azeezat Adeola A B A 0:00
Peace, mercy and blessings, beloved listener, this is fine words we, I’m your host, Aziza Adeola. A, B, A. For me, words have always drawn me in and sparked my curiosity. An interesting turn of phrase or a unique metaphor has the power to move me in a deep and meaningful way. words of affirmation who represent So, this is my opportunity to share my love of words with you. This podcast is all about word appreciation, from sharing poetry and prose, having guests join us and talk about their journey with words and hopefully encouraging you to pick up a pen. Let the truth pour out and become a weaver of your own fine words.

You are incredibly welcome. Now, onto today’s episode. In this episode, our guest is Sofia of slayers diary.

She is on a mission in mastering peace. She is a producer, writer and poet. You can find her on slaya’s diary. That’s at S. L. A. Y. A. S. D. I. A . R. Y. slaya’s diary on Instagram. Her at will be in the show notes which you can find at fine words

Bismillah, okay. Welcome to fine words we’ve, today we are hear with our very, very first guest Safiyya off Slaya’s diary. Hey!

Safiyyah 1:44
Yes Hello, hello,

As salam.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 1:47
Salam alaykum How are you?

Safiyyah 1:49
I’m fine. Thank you. How are you?

Azeezat Adeola A B A 1:51
I’m good. I’m really happy to have you here.

Safiyyah 1:54
I’m Happy to be here.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 1:58
Great, great. All right. So um, let’s get into it. A couple questions for you. And you will be sharing a piece with our listeners. And guys, I heard a tiny snippet before we started and I actually wanted to cry. So prepare your tissues, basically. That’s

Safiyyah 2:22
You’re hillarious, thank you though.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 2:25
Alright, cool. So yeah, the first question I have for you is when did you start writing? When did you start writing poetry or just writing in general?

Safiyyah 2:37
Well, um, my very first memory of like writing as far as sharing my emotions, and the things on my mind was in was it second grade or third grade rather? um, actually, it happened after a friend of mine passed away in third grade. So we were about seven or eight years old.

He was my close friend, who had passed away in a car accident, and happened to be on Christmas Eve. And I was so emotional, and what made it more emotional was that happened near my house. So I haven’t been coming home from my sister had gone to work with my mother. And we were coming home late at night. And we saw a car accident down the street from our home, but we didn’t know what’s going on. And we went to the gas station across the street from it to get gas before we went home.

So then the next morning, there was a message on the answering machine from my third grade teacher saying that one of our students, you know, one of our classmates passed away in a car accident last night. So when I found out that that had been him, my heart just dropped Mind you, I’m seven, eight years old. So I’m just like, lost for words. Like I couldn’t even believe it. Because my last memory of him was like him defending me.

You know, in, in class when I was gonna get in trouble for like other students talking, and the teacher was going to move my feet when I was sitting next to him. Yeah. So he was like, No, like, Don’t Don’t move her. Like she didn’t do anything wrong. You know, so like, that was my last memory of him. So I considered him my best friend at the time. So after that, I was just so emotional.

He passed. He was in a car with his mother’s brother. He passed away. His mother broke so many bones. I’m sorry, it was just him and a mother in the car. His mother broke so many bones but she still she was still alive. She was in hospital for a few months. And upon returning to school because like you know, there’s that week of winter break for Christmas. We came back to school the first week of January and I couldn’t contain my emotions. I was just crying. Literally just bawling couldn’t, couldn’t pay attention couldn’t do anything because like I said, he sat next to me.

And so like the student counsellor came, and she took me out of the class. And she took me to her office, and she was just like, what, like, explain to me how you feel, and I just couldn’t stop crying. Like, even just hearing his name, I was just like, it’s just this can’t be real. So she gave me a little notebook, which I actually still have. And she was like, just write about how you feel. And I started writing. And I wrote about him. And I was just like, I for some reason, I had said, um, I feel like, you know, I lost somebody who’s helping to guide me. And yeah, like, and I don’t know why I wrote that. But like, like, looking back and thinking about about thinking back about it. It’s like in character. He, like, his character was like, noble, you get I’m saying, even at such a young age, like he was, like, protect, I felt like he was protecting me, you know, I’m receiving, reprimandment that I didn’t deserve. So ever since then, I started writing about my emotions more and more. And it turned into me writing poetry, just using words to describe how I felt, because it seemed that it was hard for me to do it verbally. When it comes to like writing. It just came out.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 6:31
It just flows

Safiyyah 6:32
It just flows out.laughter Exactly. So yeah, that’s when I started.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 6:38
Wow. That is actually huge. It’s really like, It’s really big. Just even listening to you thinking about how cute or something like that happening at such a young age, how much emotion would have been in your small body.

Safiyyah 7:04
Yeah, literally I can remember, I can remember like it was yesterday. And even even the scene of the accident driving past I could remember it, I could see it, you know, so it’s just like, it’s still very, very, in my heart. And so I pray for him all the time. And yes, part of me feels like he’s like one of my guardian angels. So whenever, like, I see his name. Cos he has a common name, I’m not gonna say his name. Whenever, I see his name, like as a street name or something, I’m just like, wow. Just pray for him. and his family

Azeezat Adeola A B A 7:44
As soon as he comes into your mind, you just let that, that prayer out.

Safiyyah 7:51
Yeah, exactly. Part of me feels like now being that I’ve lived for many more years after that, and have gone through a healing journey. Part of me feels that, um, it was that situation that allowed me to see how powerful my emotions are. Because that was the first time I had such a powerful release of emotion, to the point where like, not my tears couldn’t contain it all my work, my words, and my writing couldn’t contain it all. Like, even after releasing in those two ways. Still, I was overwhelmed with emotion. So it’s and it was him that, allow me to see that about myself. So

Azeezat Adeola A B A 8:44
it was it was that experience of him that allowed you to understand in like a real, like your own experience, like how powerful emotions are like how powerful your emotions are.

Safiyyah 8:57
Exactly. Yeah. I try not to cry.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 9:03
I can hear that, I can feel it right here. It’s just yeah.

Safiyyah 9:09
Yeah. I know.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 9:14
I actually want to, like this will sound so weird, but I want to hug you.

Safiyyah 9:17
Yeah, I know, virtual hug

Azeezat Adeola A B A 9:25
Oh. Oh, so my next question is staring at me and I’m like, how do I segue? Like, I guess I would to ask is like, what is your writing process like and, and maybe even?

Why do you still write but then listening to what you’ve already said? I imagine there’s something about that whole thing of the vastness of emotions.

Safiyyah 9:53
Definitely. And I better express myself in writing, like even times Where I’m lost or can’t figure out, you know what steps to take next, or how to go about a situation, I literally just pick up a pen. Because I always say like, once I put my pen to the paper, I don’t stop and just go, okay. And it was kind of like one of the subconscious level or unconscious and on some level, but it’s like on another level where, like, I’ve learned that upon writing, when I’m in a state of emotion, what regardless, regardless of what the emotion is, whenever I come back to that writing, I’ll find an answer being that I’m just allowing it to flow out. And I realised that a lot of times when that happens, naturally, I’ll just write in poetic form. And it’s not even even when I’m trying to like, just write to find an answer, just write about how I’m feeling. It turns I find myself arriving, I find myself just like, with this poetic flow that I initially didn’t plan on having. So I would say that naturally I’m a poet, it’s just that it wasn’t like I thought about it was like, no one let me write a poem or just start writing and then it would just be in that form. So yeah,

Azeezat Adeola A B A 11:18
like I’m literally laugh as you’re talking because I so relate to that. I feel like it’s like, I feel like emotions are poetry. Like, I feel like you tap into that emotion. And the words just start coming.

Safiyyah 11:32
They find you

Azeezat Adeola A B A 11:33
Yes, it’s, you’re not out there searching for the words you are literally sometimes even just living your life. And then some words will just come, and you’ll be like what was that,

Safiyyah 11:43
Exactly, I literally-

Azeezat Adeola A B A 11:48
Yeah, yeah,

Safiyyah 11:49
sorry. I was gonna say I woke up the other day, just like saying some words. And then I use that and I just like, you know what, I got to write this down and I just started flowing in and turn into another poem. Oh, okay. So yeah, it’s literally just who I am.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 12:08
Taking a deep breath because it just, it makes you laugh but listen, this is my jam like I’m so so glad that like you’re coming on, like, we get to talk about poetry. It’s like i’m geeking out!

Safiyyah 12:17
I know me too, I’m excited

Azeezat Adeola A B A 12:19
Okay. Cool, okay.

Safiyyah 12:22
And it’s like I am so it’s like, it’s like a space of comfort and love. It’s like a comfort zone right here.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 12:29
It’s very natural. It’s just like

Safiyyah 12:33
beautiful masha’Allah

Azeezat Adeola A B A 12:35

Safiyyah 12:37
Alhamdulillah for real

Azeezat Adeola A B A 12:39
Okay, so Okay, I’m going to break the last question up into two parts. I think we’ve kind of already touched on this a little bit. But I was gonna say like, Do Do you find that you access parts of yourself through poetry? And like, if you do kind of like, which parts of yourself like, well, could you describe that kind of experience?

Safiyyah 13:03
Oh, definitely. I feel like I definitely access different parts of myself, doing, writing poetry and just writing in general because like I said, whenever I’m in an emotional state, and just I need to release that emotion, I find that writing helps me to understand myself because like I said, verbally it’s not always easy to for me to find the words that I need. But when I put the pen to the paper, the words find me and in just writing like sometimes I’ll literally start with I don’t know what to say, or I don’t know what to write. And then I’ll just keep going from there and literally just saying the different thoughts that come to my mind and then in that, I’m noticing a pattern and and just the flow of finds itself. Sometimes I already know what I want to write about. And

sorry I just saw a bird.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 13:56
laughter I was like ooh, what are you looking at?

Safiyyah 13:59
walking right in front of my window, so I’m like, ooh. It’s a dove.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 14:02
Oh, cool.

Safiyyah 14:04

Azeezat Adeola A B A 14:04
Subhanallah Like they’re literally like they’re um, they’re peace right there like meant to symbolise peace.

Safiyyah 14:09

Exactly. And that’s sorry to cut what I was saying. But there’s literally a dove sitting in front of my like, on my window sill in front of my house with two eggs under like, hatching its eggs or however you call it. And I’ve been like watching it to make sure nobody disturbs you know, mother. Like you gotta protect your young. Yeah. So I just wanted to say that since I just saw a dove, but anyways, laughs like I say, um, yeah, when I put the pen to paper, I feel like whatever part of me needs to release or whatever part of me I need answers from speaks. So sometimes it could be my inner child, you know, speaking of experiences, because I do have a very vivid memory and imagination. So there are certain parts of from my childhood that I can see as clear as day. So sometimes, like my mind will revisit that place and I’ll write about the emotion I felt during that time or the confusion I felt during that time. during times of confusion I like to write, because like I said, When I returned to the writing, I usually find an answer.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 14:37
that sense of clarity.

Safiyyah 15:21
And exactly so I’ll just literally write the thoughts or emotions I’m feeling and in that, whatever needs to come out will come out, and I tap into myself in different areas that way. And the main thing, cuz sometimes you come back to what you’ve written, and you’re like, I wrote that? That happens to me so often, and I’m just like, wait, I wrote this. Wow.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 15:47
Like, how?

Safiyyah 15:47
And I’m just impressed

Azeezat Adeola A B A 15:47
Yeah Yeah

Safiyyah 15:48
Exacyly, I’m just impressed like, Oh, I don’t remember. Like, where did this come? Yeah. So it’s just interesting to see live in price. Have you in writing?

Azeezat Adeola A B A 15:58
Yeah, that’s actually even even that is really interesting as well, especially if you come back to a piece that you wrote, maybe years ago, you’ve completely forgotten about it, because you wrote it is there on the page, and you’ve gone, you’ve gone on with life, and you come back, and even that sometimes it could give you a bit of a window into where you were, you know, and that’s really interesting.

Safiyyah 16:23
And a lot of times you’ll find that right, when you need it

Azeezat Adeola A B A 16:27
mm, mm talk about that, because I feel like this is like just my personal belief system, right? I just think that things happen to exactly the time that they’re meant to, you know, exactly the way that they’re meant to unfold. That’s exactly how it’s happening. Right? And that serendipity Where you it’s literally, exactly at the point that even sometimes you feel like I don’t need this I really don’t need this right now. But that’s what you get but but it kind of you in the moment is like, oh, but when, you look back you’re like that needed to be happen at that exact moment for me to be where I am. Yeah.

Safiyyah 17:13
Definitely in retrospect, we understand better and we see why they had to happen the way that it happened. And when it happened. So a lot of times, that act- like that thought that understanding allow me to better live in the moment. Because you know, sometimes I might try to rush to the process as a creative and laughter what am I trying to say? Okay, so I tried to write the process as a creative, not realising that there are certain things I need to realise and certain things I need to understand and certain things I need to experience in order for whatever I’m creating, to meet you know, meet it’s finalisation the way that it needs to. like for example, like say I’m working on a song right? So I make, I’m a producer I make the beat. I’m a songwriter I write the song I record myself mix and master it and sometimes throughout the process like there might be a day where I’m like I’m gonna record tomorrow for sure like I’m ready to record I’m done rehearsing it’s gonna be it’s gonna be perfect. the next day I’m feeling down or something I don’t have the energy to you know record because I’m very mindful of when I record like I make sure that only record when I’m in the best of energy like the happiest of energy and the peace the most peaceful energy because that’s the type of energy that I want to put out into the world so like when I’m feeling down there’s no way I’m gonna record you know, because I don’t want to put out that that

Azeezat Adeola A B A 18:44
into the track yeah, yeah

Safiyyah 18:47
exactly. Because it’s just like that’s what people are. That’s a stimuli that people are consuming. So why would I want people’s bodies to be penetrated by my down emotions? No I want them to be penetrated by the best of me though, the peace that I that I preach the peace that I exude the the serenity, right,

Azeezat Adeola A B A 19:04
that’s what you want them to receive

Safiyyah 19:05
So. Yeah, exactly. And the love that I have within me so that down day that I thought I was going to record you know, I might I may write this I may find an answer or clarity from Allah that I didn’t know I needed or that I had been seeking before. And then it would make the process I’m going through make sense and help me manoeuvre better and then I might end up changing something or adding something to the song, or just even recording with a better understanding and in a better state. I mean, I have learned whatever it had to learn or I experienced whatever I had to experience

Azeezat Adeola A B A 19:14
is it a deeper?-

Safiyyah 19:38
but like-

Azeezat Adeola A B A 19:38
Sorry no- I was gonna like, sorry

Safiyyah 19:40
no it’s okay

Azeezat Adeola A B A 19:40
Sorry, like, sorry here I’m just being awkward

Safiyyah 19:43
no it’s okay

Azeezat Adeola A B A 19:44
, because I wanted to say something and then I saw that you were still talking, and I was like wait hold up.

Safiyyah 19:47
No it’s fine

Azeezat Adeola A B A 19:47
But I was saying is it like that thing to listen, like that thing of like there being like a deeper, more rooted sense of what it is you’re actually bringing into the world.

Safiyyah 19:59
Exactly. And then I get to deliver myself in a better state than I thought I was going to be delivering myself in. So it’s just like, I always trust the process. Trust Allah’s plan and timing, so that, you know, everything can happen. And it’s best in the way that is best.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 20:21
My heart feels so full. Like, I actually, this is gonna be so good for me like, I honestly, like I’m here just enjoying that My heart feels really full. Yeah, so I guess the final question or Maybe, maybe not, is, oh, okay, what parts? Or? Or do you find that this parts of others, like other people that you you are like you access through your poetry or via your poetry.

Safiyyah 20:57
I feel like the state that I’m in when I’m writing or the place that I tap into, when I’m writing, well, if I share whatever it is, I’m writing will tap into those same parts of other people, and, and, hopefully guide them or provide them an answer that they needed, or even allow them to know that they’re not alone. You know, and, you know, for them to feel whatever they were feeling or have felt is okay. And, you know, that there’s hope for them yet, I just want to I just want to inspire people really. So um, I feel like, when I write unconsciously, I’m, I’m preparing something to like, sort of a guide.

Not only for myself, but for others. I noticed when listening to other people’s poetry, or reading other people’s poetry, I’m like, it’s as if this person, like, is me

Azeezat Adeola A B A 22:04
yeah, laughter

Safiyyah 22:05
like I be like, um am I sure I didin’t write this? Because I’m just like, literally, like a reflection of me. And I’m just like, how did this person find the words to perfectly express how I felt when I couldn’t find the words myself. So it’s just like, we are all reflections of each other. And when we put our emotions into the form of word, or put our experiences into the form of word, it allows a lot of different people to find pieces of themselves, or learn more about themselves. Or like I said, understand that they’re not alone and for them to feel what they felt was normal, and it’s okay, and that they can get past it.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 22:49
It’s like that sense of like that, whatever you’re going through, like you, not to trivialise, what you’re going through, but there are other people in the world who have gone through it. And then they wrote about it. And they’re still standing or, you know, sometimes if it’s a dead poet, you really- don’t know why that’s coming to my head. But yeah, you know, they’re not still, standing, but you get like you get the gi-

Safiyyah 23:13
Still they got through it

Azeezat Adeola A B A 23:14
Yeah. They were, they were that they were able to get through enough to at least write. You know, you know, and I think about that as well, like how writing can be such a healing kind of process?

Safiyyah 23:30
Very therapeutic.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 23:30
Yeah, exactly. And I think it’s just that sense of connection that you when you’re talking you were talking about, like how are you tapping into that emotion? And I think it’s like, it’s the way that that’s true. It’s not like what you’re feeling is what you’re feeling. There’s no, that what you’re feeling is there’s it’s just truth. That’s what I’m feeling.

Yeah. You can’t fake it

Yeah And I feel like it’s that maybe that truth of the like, just the realness and the just the strength, the strength of, you know, the vast emotions that we all have within us, that allow us to kind of tap in to ourselves, and like and to other people.

Safiyyah 24:15
Exactly, it’s beautiful.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 24:16
Oh my gosh

It’s just that this is such a vibe like

Safiyyah 24:22
Yay I love it

Azeezat Adeola A B A 24:26
yay, oh, yay. Oh, yeah. So those are like literally all of my questions. And I believe you have something to share with

Safiyyah 24:45
We, (indicates) to the audience. We have been speaking time to time about writing letters to Allah, writing a letter to God. You know about Whatever it is, but we had just been receiving signs to Yeah. And for example, we see somebody post like about how they wrote a letter to God. And all of a sudden they’re receiving all these blessings about what they wrote about, etc.

So do they refer to you as Azeezat,

Azeezat Adeola A B A 25:18
Oh yeah! laughter

Safiyyah 25:20
Okay yeah so Azeezat and I have been like, you know what, we should write a letter to God too. And, and then we had been saying that for a few weeks before I actually did it. And when I did write a letter, to God, I thought that I was going to be writing about, you know, the things I desired and things I felt I needed. And you know, as basically like a poem asking to receive the things that I felt that I needed, or the things that I desired. And instead of writing, in seeking something, I ended up writing, to express gratitude. And it just naturally came out that way, which was beautiful, because it was upon reflection of my life at the moment. And it was like leading up to my birthday, which was yesterday. So you know, during, when your birthday is approaching, you just happen to start like being like, you know, as you’re entering a new age.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 26:19
I just wanted to come off mute and just say happy birthday once again!

Safiyyah 26:22
Ah thank you you

Azeezat Adeola A B A 26:23
Okay I’m gonna mute again, just like give you your space.

Safiyyah 26:30
So I ended up writing and not knowing what I was going to write when I started. And I think that’s actually why I delayed writing the poem. So I mean, the letter to God in the first place, because I didn’t know what to say, because I prayed daily, and I just was like, Well, can’t I say what I’m gonna say, like, while, I’m paying and not write it down. But then the same night that I decided to write I saw a quote, that there’s actually an Islamic quote that says the pen is one of two tongues. So I was like well, Hmm, that’s really beautiful. And that like, quote, stuck with me, so I’m like, you know what, maybe I should write especially because I find to express myself better through writing. So then I just picked up a pen, it was 2am on a dot, when I started. So here it is.

Bismillah Ya, Allah,

I realised that it is the essence of the name hope that is my soulmate,

and not the man himself.

I now understand the importance of holding on to it, as it is essential to life

essential to peace to Islam.

Belief breeds hope, and hope builds iman (which is faith.) The stronger my iman, the closer I am to you.

As I began to lose hope about finding love. You sent me hope in the form of humans who remind me that I am love, and that I can never lose myself if I have you. The presence of hope taught me a lot.

I learned to follow my heart. And that for me, to love is to breathe. My daddy told me to hold on to hope. And I clenched on to, his words, with my heart and soul, I now understand also what it feels like to lose hope.

It tastes like a bitter death, not something I ever want to experience. With that being said, I will forever live with hope on my tongue, in my bones, as a fuel of my intentions, and as a language of my being insha Allah by your grace

hope taught me the inexcusable priority of putting you first before everyone and everything. Hope reminded me that you Ya rabb My Lord are the owner of time and that it is in your time that things happen.

You are indeed the best of planners, Masha Allah I praise you. Hope is the best friend I could have. The friend I wants to introduce to all of my loved ones, the friend that everybody needs.

Hope is my reflection that speaks in truth and tells me of the things I overlook about myself. About my beauty, my strength, all the things I owe you the glory for you. Ya, noor I love you.

Hope confessed love to me endlessly. And I loved and still love hope back. Hope brought me solace and walk me into my evolved identity. serenity.

Hope allows me to be me, in full, past attached and appreciated and patched with understanding and gratitude. The strength of hope amazes me through everything. Hope stands firmly with love, with hope, light and truth reigns. The love that pours through the lips of hope are warming to the body and soul they provide comfort and console hope is calm and sincere hope is happy and always accessible always near ya Wadud the most loving thank you for loving me through hope I thank you for intertwining my destiny with an essence so beautiful and so strong and essence in whose arms I will always belong. Dear hope I love you beyond love serenity.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 30:28
Told you I was gonna cry.

Safiyyah 30:34
If sounds so weird like reading it out from when I was writing it. Yeah that was my letter to Allah.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 30:44
oh that was beautiful

Safiyyah 30:47
thank you.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 30:50
I don’t know if this is also a space so we can talk about that poem. If you’d like to

Safiyyah 30:58
.mhmm it’s fine yeah.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 30:59
Yeah. It just I love how you personified hope. And I just had so many feelings listening to that. And I’m so gassed that is recorded because I could come back and listen to it anytime I want.

Like, we literally send each other poetry all the time. Yeah. Oh,

Safiyyah 31:26
yeah, and you definitely introduced me to the poetry group on-

Azeezat Adeola A B A 31:29
Clubhouse! yeah!.

Safiyyah 31:29
Clubhouse yeah. alhamdulillah

Azeezat Adeola A B A 31:30
Yeah, that’s been, Listen, that’s just been some days, I just jump in there and I stay there. I don’t leave. But –

Safiyyah 31:40
it’s hard to leave

Azeezat Adeola A B A 31:42
. Because it’s just like, it’s, it’s just that, that that true and that light of that love of that hope? Just

Safiyyah 31:50
Oh, exactly. That reflection that really, you know, relation, the ability to connect with so many people through words now? You know, which is the basis of Yeah,

Azeezat Adeola A B A 32:04
fine words weave because like, literally, I’ve always found words to be so incredibly powerful. And I love like a love, like just a really nice turn of phrase of like, oh, say that again? That sounds good. Yeah. It’s just like, Oh, I just had a flashback cuz he smiled like, have like little you would like the exact same smile.

Safiyyah 32:38
Oh my goodness,

Azeezat Adeola A B A 32:39

Safiyyah 32:39
that picture i sent you? Oh my goodness. thaat was a beautiful picture

I might have to bring this back.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 32:41
If I if you do tag me, because like, you know, yeah.

Safiyyah 32:45
oh of course, of course

Azeezat Adeola A B A 32:48
Oh, yeah. I mean, do you have anything else that you’d like to offer? Maybe? When my mom was listening to the podcast, because she’s a listener now Is she you know?

Safiyyah 33:00
Aww she Hit me up yesterday?

Azeezat Adeola A B A 33:02
Did she oh my gosh that’s so cute

Yeah, she was, she was she was offering a suggestion. She was like, Oh, you know, it’d be so cool. If poets when they came on, you know, they could talk about their poem, because that’s interesting to know what they were going through. And they were writing it. And I know we obviously already talked on that and touched on that a little bit. But if you’d love to add that, I don’t know, in my mind, I’m trying to think of this in segments. So this is the

Safiyyah 33:34
Well okay, I mean, like I said, I went into it, not knowing what I was going to write her and even thinking that I was going to be seeking something like thinking something from God, but ended up turning around and me. Sorry, I can’t even find words right now, ended up being me thanking God for giving me you know, something that is reflective of him like just basically having his presence with me at all times and holding on to it in order to get through life. And when I wrote it, I just I was crying. And that was just a natural emotion that I was in at that time, and after I finished writing it, I just closed my journal. And I didn’t go back to it, but I thought about it. And was it the day before my birthday the night before my birthday? I was seeking answers. I was wondering what this new age would bring and how I should manoeuvre and you know if there any changes I need to make to improve myself. It’s progressed and I was like, asa I was praying something told me to come back to this letter, and then I would find answers in it and I definitely found answers in it for me. So again, how I said earlier, a lot of times When I write and go back to it I’ll find an answer that I need and I definitely I remember contacting you after I had written this and I said like it was so exhilarating writing a letter to Allah that I already want to write another one

Azeezat Adeola A B A 35:14
I remember that

Safiyyah 35:15
so that so I don’t know there’s just this joy in writing and expressing the words of my soul that you know my lips can’t find

Azeezat Adeola A B A 35:25
I feellike I’m being dragged a little bit because I haven’t written my letter yet. So I mean if this is another side if I needed it

Safiyyah 35:38
I just find that I don’t know I love writing letters. But I also love writing poetry like I’ve always been writing writing letters as well as like next to poetry like to people personally that they might not ever you know, hear read or see but just it’s an expression of usually my love, love letters

Azeezat Adeola A B A 35:57
interesting. Like I’m obviously I’ve journaled from like quite young I don’t know if you remember I don’t know if this is this may or may not be in your memory but um, when I was younger my mom like she was like you have to write three things that you’re grateful for every day and this is like when I was seven or something and she lined because I couldn’t write you know when you’re a kid right you know when it’s a blank piece of paper, and you start at the top and ends at the bottom.

Safiyyah 36:24
It’s on a angle?

Azeezat Adeola A B A 36:27
So she’d like get rule- like line it like get a ruler amd like draw in lines. And but I remember when I started actually like, proper, like when I took ownership of my journaling, and a lot of the time it be like I was writing a letter to my diary. I ‘d always start it off with like dear diary. And I actually, I’d be so weird. I’d be like How are you? I hope you’re well.

Safiyyah 36:50
Yo, what’s up?

Azeezat Adeola A B A 36:54
okay, I feel that and it’s actually making me think about I wrote two letters to myself within the last couple of years. One at a workshop and one was something I did during like a social media detox and when you go back and you read them it’s just I love that that finding answers and yeah,

Safiyyah 37:20
I love it too. It’s actually why the name slaya’s diary was inspired from my page because of my writing and how I ever since that age, that age seven I always kept a diary. I always like needed to have something where I can write you know, something that any and it took me a long time before I even ever sharing any of my writing just because I felt it was so personal. Just because the words came from such a deep place but I’m happy that I’m finally being able to share my words now and people are relating and you know, it’s beautiful. I love it

Azeezat Adeola A B A 38:03
For those of you who are listening and can’t see I’m smiling so so big right now like okay, so um, ye my cheeks are hurting

Safiyyah 38:14
we both are

Azeezat Adeola A B A 38:14
ah, I guess like now it’s time to round up. Thank you so much for joining me

Safiyyah 38:19
Thakn you for having me Thank you. Thank you so much for that.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 38:24
You are , literally.Yeah, you’re just phenomenal. I thank you for coming and sharing your words with us. Yeah, so this is slay of slaya’s diary. What is your Instagram handle? Like how what’s Ah, there we go. podcasting? What’s the best way that our listeners can connect with you?

Safiyyah 38:45
Okay, well you can find me on Instagram Twitter. SoundCloud audio mag where else? basically everywhere by slava’s diary, which is S. L. A. Y. A.S. D.I. A.R.Y.

Azeezat Adeola A B A 39:03
All right. That is the end of fine words Eve

ah- laughter fine words eve? what

Safiyyah 39:13
Ooh I like that Well, you should host an event called fin words eve.

Gosh Yes, an eve Yes, I feel that, i feel that. Maybe there’s a reason that came through. i’m actually going to write that down. this is the end of fine words weave. fine words weave

Azeezat Adeola A B A 39:28
thank you for listening and stay tuned Take care,

Safiyyah 39:31
take care salam,

Azeezat Adeola A B A 39:31

If you would like to support fine words, weave, you can become a member of our Patreon sign up at forward slash fine words weave

Transcribed by

Fine Words Weave Podcast!

I started a podcast! It’s called Fine Words Weave, quite naturally, and it’s a celebration of poetry and other beautiful words. The first episode is out now, and the weekly show notes, and episode transcripts will be shared on this page! I’m still figuring this out, as the idea dropped in my spirit on Friday night, and I moved straight on through to creating it, so that by Saturday morning I was already sharing the link with people. I have a number of guests that I’m looking forward to bringing on. Some of the poets who’s work inspires and moves me on a spiritual level. Keep your eyes and ears peeled.

You can listen to the first episode here. It’s me and one of my poems. You can also read the full transcript below.

Black Girl’s Flight Plan.

Read Your Poem Imperfect Fine Words Weave

Not an episode, but a poem 💙 Today dear listener, I have a poem to share with you. It’s called Read Your Poem Imperfect. You can get a copy of A Soul Untameable: Love Letters To Souls Inside Bodies here As for the Honouring Our Journies therapeutic journaling workshop, early bird tickets are on sale for the next few days. You can get a copy here:
  1. Read Your Poem Imperfect
  2. Curb | ByMaryX | Fine Words Weave
  3. Breath's Journey | Tiffany, Neyoga | Fine Words Weave
  4. A Purple Kind Of Love | Sherri D. Lawson | Fine Words Weave
  5. Tremor | Where Words Whisper | Fine Words Weave

Episode show notes!

Unknown 0:01
This is fine words weave by Azeezat Adeola, A B A. On this podcast, I share poems, and all good things about words. Thank you for your time. And I hope you realise that fine words that have been weaved (together) are always worth listening to.

Unknown 0:36
This week I’ll be sharing a poem that I wrote called Black Girl’s flight plan. I had to record it a few times. So you will hear the authentic me laughing and just, you know, getting into that space to really channell the poem. I hope you take your time to listen to it. And I’d love to hear what messages you take away from it. Okay, take care.

Unknown 1:13
This is the second re-recording of Black Girl’s Flight Plan. laughter Okay, I’m going to get into position the my body all the energy that she needs to give this poem is due right.

Unknown 1:28
Bismillah (in the name of Allah).

Unknown 1:31
Black Girl’s Flight Plan.

Unknown 1:31
I feel this first in the bottom of my throat. It feels like a hollow than a shallow tremble flutters from my solar plexus down to the clenching in my gut.

Unknown 1:45
And I am tired, although I’ve rested, because I wonder if there’s enough rest in this life that will keep a black woman uplifted and replenished.

Unknown 1:56
Divest from the discourse, the gender war and all the controversy. My skin will not be fodder for the pyre they are burning.

Unknown 2:05
You see being stripped of my skin is not a new sensation. I remember sticks and stones may break my bones. But words will pull strips from me.

Unknown 2:15
The little dark skinned black girl on the playground, gleaming like a gem. That flash of white teeth sit in a dark face, like the white stones we dig out of the concrete

Unknown 2:27
It was a siren for magpies. And so the magpies came, to pick apart what they could, to steal anything that glimmered.

Unknown 2:36
Medusa they called when they saw how I picked apart my irun shuku (a Yoruba hairstyle).

Unknown 2:46
Shuku meant the pulling of my scalp on a Sunday evening, the top of an ilarun (comb) on my head, as my mum reminded me. Don’t let anyone touch your hair.

Unknown 2:58
The eternal temptation to unplait my rows, to undo my crown, so I too might fit the magpie’s standard that I might blend in.

Unknown 3:07
I was never made to blend in. Outstanding as a black girl sometimes means you just stand out.

Unknown 3:16
Too talkative, the hen teachers clucked Adeola must stop distracting others, the uncrewedun-crowed subtext being smaller, little black girl.

Unknown 3:29
How dare you show up in all your light. Don’t you know you can only glow when we add you to the pyre when we can benefit from your warmth and wingspan.

Unknown 3:38
As I speak now, my heart accelerates like the thundering after the Bleep test or the one in your chest when you get on the bad side of your parent. And the sensation is one of danger of fear. saliva filling your mouth in anticipation of pain.

Unknown 3:57
Orokpo is the nickname they gave me at home. It means your talk is too much. It means your talk is too much.

Unknown 4:05
And when I talked back, I’d get a lip twist in conditioning and negative association. In if you don’t hear you will feel, in home training for the war out there.

Unknown 4:16
But what that meant is that I learned to bite my tongue. I mean, literally bite my tongue. Sinking my teeth in ‘till my tongue was warm and numb but my mouth filled with saliva.

Unknown 4:30
So I mean it, when I say I’ve tried and tested shrinking into myself to become more palatable, and I wonder if there are enough people with vested interest in a black woman being uplifted and replenished.

Unknown 4:48
And at this point my body knows the answer, because people loved to use my body as fuel for that bonfire to lift them up, elevated on the back of a black girl.

Unknown 5:00
And when I was in what I thought was a loving relationship with a black man because black love and you complete me and this is half your deen (way of life), and I want to be seen.

Unknown 5:13
He opened his mouth from within his beard, and it turned into a beak as he squawked, “So you want to grow wings.”

Unknown 5:23
And this one felt like just too much the last straw on a black girl’s back. It felt like squaring up, and when will I rest and if I open my mouth, the whole earth will tremble.

Unknown 5:36
And who said I, black girl, who said that I had no right to wings? To soaring and flying, swooping freely far beyond the reach of those that would have my body as a log in the fire.

Unknown 5:51
The gender war sharpshooters would rather Blitz Spitfire, have me in their sights, and bring my body all the way back down to set in stone earth.

Unknown 6:04
And now it feels like my shoulders drawn forward, my body leaning into the wind, my big laps, I mean, these thick thighs gearing up for the run of my life.

Unknown 6:17
Unclench my jaw on the runway, and lift off into flight. Because flight fight freeze fawn,

Unknown 6:25
I’m not a worm or a pawn, not bird fodder nor funeral blacks, the smoking ashes open my mouth, and I refused to call these words back,

Unknown 6:36
Let the earth shake.

Unknown 6:39

Unknown 6:39

Unknown 6:41
Black woman,

Unknown 6:42
Am resting.

Unknown 6:44
and I’m tired of holding it all up. And if I have to leave this life behind, the one of strong black girl myths and legends, if that means that I will be uplifted and replenished? then you’d be blessed to see the tail end of me as I Loop The Loop in the sky turned into the morning’s swallow.

Unknown 7:04
Yes, I’ve grown wings. But let me tell you they’ve always been there. And the hens and crows and magpies and all the other birds. They tried to clip them.

Unknown 7:15
And now I black girl, uncontained swallow, am fluttering towards this World’s Solar Plexus

Unknown 7:22
and I am in your gut and I know that you are hollow and I burst out

Unknown 7:28
know that I’ve got all the smoke, my glow, my light my fire is beyond further for your desire.

Unknown 7:37
The poetic message has been delivered. I was the receiver and then the speaker Azeezat

Transcribed by

Thank you for your attention. I would love to hear what meaning you made of this episode.
Until next time,

Azeezat Adeola ABA

Buried injustices

Excavate this sadness

All the injustices

Not quite laid to rest

Jump in the graves of them

And exhume the body of grief

For your consumption?

Let’s be clear about what you’re asking for here

In my own time

I tend the graves

Of anguishes past experienced

You, grave robber


Have no right to visit here

It isn’t for me to dredge up the soil

Unearthing it all

Leaving the soil upturned

For what?

For you to confirm

That yes it is legitimate pain buried here?

I’m past that,

Way past asking for scraps

I’ve come to understand

That there’s a reason

You weren’t there for the burial

So when I tend the graves

Of all the injustices

Half buried before

Don’t turn up

In funeral blacks

Facimile fragility

Leaking from your eyes

You didn’t know the deceased

And your abject sadness

Are only theatrics

Done for the optics

More to the point

I don’t welcome it

Leave me to my grief

To the laying to rest of

Anguish and injustice

Stop demanding

That I uncover it

For your voyeurism

And vouchsafing

Be on your way

Stop not at these graves.

There is space for this emotion.

An Unstormable Knowing

One more round with the tempest.

She stands,

arms outstretched

in a daring embrace,

as she locks gaze with the eye of the storm.

Energy jitters up her spine,

and her tongue is dry.

She’s danced this whirl wind before.

Spun out over and over,

leaving breathless and dizzy,

that’s if she even leaves at all.

The tempest calls her name,

blowing temptingly in her ears.

Drawing her in just a bit.

One foot forward,

without conscious thought,

she’s already in forward motion,

Pulled in by the deceptive calm.

Still the weathered shawl of foreboding

settles on her shoulders,

and her skin pinpricks with that quiet

un-nameable sense,

that something is just out of step here.

She’s been around this tempest before,

this isn’t her first spin,

and lately she’s tired

of letting herself be reeled back in.

Emotionally battered,

mind windswept,

she’s intimately familiar

with the post-storm landscape.

The tempest howls,

the wind buffets at her mind,

the noise is reaching crescendo.

She turns inwards to the quiet within.

And asks a single question.

The answer makes steel rods of her legs

and she is at a stand still.

The question?

Is this, what you want, for your life?

Lightning fizzles

from within the tempest,

aiming at her stock still legs.

There is pain and tingling,

and the metal taste of hot electricity.

As the bolt hits at where she is grounded.

Is this what you want for your life?


the answer is so quiet,

it’s hard to hear it

beneath the roar of the storm.

Still it matters not,

because the answer becomes her vision.

She feels it right in the gaps.

She unstormably knows the answer

in every fiber of her.

She is steady as the tempest rolls over.

It flails and roars,

wails and hails.

Steadily drags at her core.

It comes with dark

and thunder and shuddering.

Shaky teeth,

and the shivering.

The storm is a mighty thing.

The knowing within is mightier still,

and she does not let the storm in.

She draws deep from within herself,

The strength to weather it.

At moments her legs falter,

and at times she is almost carried away

by the force of the storm,

still the unstormable knowing is her steadying.

The storm does its worst.

The knowing is unstormable.

The tempest passes.

She stands, still.

Her arms outstretched in an open embrace.

The storm has subsided.

And faintly in the post-storm ozone

she hears a new question.

What do you want for your life?


“Stop Digging!”

You hear in your mind

You’re not going to find gold here

Only pain and rocks and dust.

Keep digging

Just go on

Excavate and go deeper

You will find the fine pure beautiful exquisitiveness

Of your young innocent soul

Under all the dirt and soil and debris

Take it out

Shake off the dirt

It shines

So pure and Golden

It’s still you,

You’re still her


Hospitalisation and How it Affected my Writing

I was looking back at some old blog posts on a different host site, and I stumbled across a long forgotten post from Novemeber 2010. In it I wrote

…So that’s what’s been going on with me. Well that and a stint in hospital, which I think had completely broken me.

I’ve not been able to write anything, which in turn has led me to be upset… but I just don’t feel things the way I used to. It’s weird and horrible, and I hope no one has to feel the way I feel.

My sense of humour has totally changed. Things I found funny before are now not nearly as funny. I have officially become an unenthusiastic person. It bites and I don’t know how to change it, or how to feel things anymore.

I’m not asking why. I accept that this is something that has had to happen, because it did actually happen, I just wanna know what to do about it.

Reading this seven years later and being confronted with that former version of myself is hard. My heart swells and remembers the faint echo of its old wounds whilst reading this post.

It was written shortly after I was sectioned under the mental health act and hospitalised. I am someone who is pretty open about this having been part of my life experience, though I feel where I come from, both from a cultural and religious standpoint, there is still at times a stigma attached to mental health problems, and being open about difficulties people face in that regard. I stand by my resolve to be open about my experience though, because it is through sharing, open discussion, and sincere reflection, that I believe we all learn, develop, and reach new levels of compassion and understanding.

What is very weird though, is that I’d forgotten that my writing slump coincided with my being sectioned. Prior to being sectioned, I would spend countless nights losing sleep because I was pouring out a new story idea, or working on a new poem, or just scribbling my feelings out in a journal. After being sectioned I just couldn’t do it. I tried, I tried to force myself to keep writing, I even attempted NaNoWriMo from my room on the triage ward, but it just didn’t pan out.

For perhaps the majority of my life words and writing have been places of refuge for me; from spending summers folding a4 sheets of paper in half, stapling them in the middle and designing books, writing endless stories fuelled by a youthful imagination, to journalling during my time in boarding school, even those angst filled poems that littered my teenage years. However, in the midst of one of my most difficult life experiences, that tool and solace was lost to me.

It was not that I couldn’t access writing, it’s just there was something off about it, even now it’s so hard to express this in a way that makes sense. It was almost as though in the same way that my self confidence had withered away during my time in hospital, the creativity I normally overflowed with when it came time to put my fingers to the keyboard or even pen to paper had shrivelled up too. I can still remember the desperate struggle to write, how huge of a mental block there seemed to be, how it was almost as though I’d lost not only the capacity to express myself, but also the will to do so. I believe this is very much a parallel to how things stood for me at that time mentally too. It took a lot of work to get back on an even keel, Alhamdulillah! I do feel that this experience, as much as it knocked me down, was useful in that it was a way to start rebuilding myself with a stronger foundation.

Eventually, painstakingly slowly my love of writing did return. I started of with a journal, a hot pink faux leather bound lined notebook; no dates or days, just blank lined pages a year after I left hospital. I didn’t write every day, in fact weeks would go by and I wouldn’t pick up my pen at all. When I did write, I would write a sentence here, a paragraph there, and there were a lot of days where I couldn’t find the motivation to get out of bed, talk less of the mental effort it took to pick up a pen and organise my thoughts enough to write what I was feeling.

I kept writing though. A new year started and I was still using that same hot pink diary… occasionally. Gradually I was recovering, and so was my writing. Things were not exactly the same, just as I had been altered by my experiences, I believe my writing was too. At times writing can still be a challenge, but I am so grateful that it wasn’t lost to me forever.

To anyone who’s found that mental health issues have negatively impacted their writing I wanted to just put this out there, don’t lose hope. It can come back, it may not be the same, but the challenging things that we go through in life don’t have to forever be dark ink blots on the pages of our life stories, we have the capacity to grow from and learn from our experiences. To transform the inkblots into fantastic illustrations of growth and starting points for change.

Lots of love

The Truth

I want to write things

that speak to people about the truth,

that speak to the truth of all matters

that cut right to the heart of things

and don’t mess about,

that illuminate, and give you things

on which to ruminate.


I wish at the beginning I knew

that the truth

was the same thing

at the end as it was

at the start.


But the truth was

that things change.


Things that happened to you

things that you felt

they changed how you saw things

they changed how you heard things

and they changed who you were


See the truth,

the real truth

it never changes

It is unfaltering

and eternal.


That this place

is not the end

that where you start is not as important as where you finish

that your journey

to the Creator

is about more than your face

it’s about more than what you are able to amass in this place

it is about more than the pace

at which you move through life


This truth,

it is







Azeezat A.B.A