'I taste the Truth through fists and slit throats': The blood-thirsty poem written by wannabe 'bad bitch!'

       ISLAM IS OF THE DEVIL... So is bitch from hell Asia Siddiqui... 

'I taste the Truth through fists and slit throats': The blood-thirsty poem written by wannabe 'bad b****' NYC and published in Al Qaeda magazine

Asia Siddiqui, one of two femlae ISIS converts arrested in New York on Thursday, had a Jihad-themed poem published in an Al Qaeda magazine

• The poem, titled 'Take Me to the Land Where the Eyes are Cooled', is a gory account of her dream to become a martyr

• The poem was published by Samir Khan, an American citizen and one-time editor of Al Qaeda magazine Inspire, who Siddiqui met in 2006

• Khan wrote a how-to guide for bomb-making for Inspire, which is believed to have been used by the accused Boston bombers  

• Khan was killed in a 2011 drone strike in Yemen  

Asia Siddiqui not only saw herself as a soldier for Allah, but a poet as well. 

The 31-year-old woman who was arrested Thursday in New York for allegedly hatching a terrorist plot with her former roommate, 28-year-old Noelle Velentzas, was also friends with the one-time editor of Al Qaeda magazine Inspire.

Samir Khan, an American citizen, was killed in a 2011 drone strike in Yemen. But before that he published several articles in Inspire, including a DIY bomb-making guide which the Boston bombers allegedly used to make their twin pressure-cooker explosives.

Kahn was apparently so chummy with Siddiqui that he published one of her poems in the precursor to Inspire, a publication called Jihad Recollections.

                     Scroll down for full poem 

A soldier and a poet: Asia Siddiqui (right), one of the two woman arrested in Queens, NY on Thursday for plotting a terrorist attack had previously published a poem in an Al Qaeda magazine, it was revealed.  Siddiqui and her accused co-conspirator Noelle Velentzas (left) pictured in a court sketch from Thursday

                         

                                 

Extremist friends: Siddiqui befriended Samir Khan (left) in 2006, three years before he left the U.S. for Yemen and started Al Qaeda magazine Inspire (right). Khan published Siddiqui's poem in a publication which was the precursor for Inspire. Khan was killed in a 2011 drone strike

The poem, titled 'Take Me to the Lands Where the Eyes are Cooled' details Siddiqui's aspiration to  'drop bombs' and 'taste the Truth through fists and slit throats'. 

 I fall sleep in the midst of battle before sirens and tanks owned by enemy ranks. Hit cloud nine with the smell of turpentine, nations wiped clean of filthy shrines. My teeth grind, my gums sting, my jaws flinch from and flame in chemical pain. And from all this I confess I've become more sane

                         Excerpt from Siddiqui's poem

The informant says Siddiqui boasted about the poem in a August 2014 conversation, and said she had it published under the name 'Murdiyyah'.

That same name was connected to a Facebook account associated with Siddiqui's computer IP address.

According to the lengthy criminal complaint against Siddiqui and Velentzas,  Siddiqui met Khan sometime in 2006, while he was still living in the U.S. and they continued to communicate after he moved to Yemen in 2009. 

Siddiqui and Velentzas have been accused of plotting to carrying out a terrorist attack in New York City, and referred to themselves as 'real bad b****es' in conversations with a federal informant. 

The informant says the two were considering targeting a military base or police funeral with a homemade bomb - but that there was no specific terrorist plot at the time of their arrest Thursday. 

Siddiqui's friend Kahn was born to Pakistani parents in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia on December 25, 1989, but spent most of his life growing up in Queens - the same NYC borough where Siddiqui and Velentzas lived.

Two NYC women arrested for homemade bomb plot

Captured: Above, the home in Queens where Asia Siddiqui was arrested for allegedly plotting a bomb attack on the United States. She met fellow Queens native Samir Khan in 2006, and later had him publish one of her poems in an Al Qaeda magazine he was editing at the time from Yemen

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DIY: Khan went on to found Inspire, an Al Qaeda magazine. One of the articles he wrote for the magazine a a bomb-making how-to guide apparently used by Boston bombers Tamerlan Tsarnaev (left) and Dzhokhar Tsarnaev (right)

Other than refusing to recite the Pledge of Allegiance and blaming 9/11 on America, Khan appeared to be a well-adjusted young man when he attended  W Tresper Clarke High School. 

At the school, Khan wrote for the student newspaper, and participated in cheerleading and the glee club.

However, at some point while still living in the U.S., Kahn started writing about Jihad from his parent's basement with a blog called 'InshallahShaheed,' or 'Martyr, God willing'.

In 2004, his family moved to Charlotte, North Carolina where he attended Central Piedmont Community College. Five years later, Khan cut ties with his family and moved to Yemen. 

Khan was killed in a September 30, 2011 drone strike in Yemen - the same one that claimed the life of infamous American-born Islamic militant Anwar al-Awlaki.  

TAKE ME TO THE LANDS WHERE THE EYES ARE COOLED - A poem by accused New York jihadist Asia Siddiqui

Take me to the lands where the eyes are cooled…

There are dreams I will leave everything behind for

Everything that has meaning in my life

Came to life with the introduction to my Lord

To the Oneness of my Lord

To the Mercies of His evermore

Than I can implore…

I have memories of soldiers of Allaah, memories of soldiers of shaytan

Memories of battlegrounds I haven't yet stepped on

Memories of battlefields I have never stepped on…

Yaa Allaah, take me – Aslamtu lirabbil aalameen

Take me… to the lands where the eyes are cooled

Jannatul Firdaus lies unpursued

I remind myself these sacrifies are only for You, too few

Hunger never felt so good as it does handcuffed

Some of us are born soldiers, battle runs through our blood

The sound of gun rattle sends a rush, soothing

I sleep with my eyes open, my subconscious constantly invoking

Al-Baa'ith! Al-Mu'eed! … my mind strays back to golden past I haven't yet lived…

All this Time I spent living Wahn dreams instead

Surrounded by walls of marble with widescreens, gardens of plush green

Pouring rain splashing on window panes, crystal ceilings

But Allaahi, nafsi only knew of empty feelings

Verily, time teases. The tease of martyrdom when the ruh leaves

In degrees; the degrees every soul dreams to seize

The degrees the angels appease one over another

The degrees of infinite seas with which the Lord pleads, the seven seas cannot encumber

I drown in ghibtah rage for a cavalry of my own

Plotting against shaytaan, suffocating for self-control

I want to be purified with every breath, every sweat, every echo, every harakah

The innumerable Tawaafs, the countless du'at, every step I take, I'm back at Arafat

I have work to do. Mistakes to correct, time to make up.

No excuse to sit back and wait- for the skies rain martyrdom

Wait, No! The skies never rain martyrdom…

Martyrdom rains the skies!

This world is a morgue on standstill watching the lost souls

In a cold, silent, blank stare – death stare

Death stirs in cold, silent, despair

Finding no place to call home, my vision blurs

All my fingers plucked out, my veins stretched to dull

Laughter poking into my sleep… into my dreams

Peeling laughter – the never-ending discourse of shaytaan's regime

Sahytaan Ar Rajeem… silenced. Prison walls that scream

The urges reincarnate into rebellion, into physical hunger, social incompetency

I am a slithering soul cringing to be free

The sweat of my efforts choke, wet strokes of vapour from a cloud

For my dreams to emerge… on cracked canvas – chipping off paint

The pigments of a lost nation. A curse. A nation. A religion. A pagan

An exiled. A misery. A child with incisors. A soliciting child

Soliciting for a while for golden signs… along the Cyprus, Nile, miles from

With a defied conscience eager for recompense…

The mountains are my castles, the sand is my sea

I peril through the wilderness as it's a part of me

I hear voices in the dark; feel pressure on my prayer rug

As I swing on a hammock between date palms, I drop bombs

I feel blisters beneath my feet as I sneak behind the enemy fleet

I fall sleep in the midst of battle before sirens and tanks owned by enemy ranks

Hit cloud nine with the smell of turpentine, nations wiped clean of filthy shrines

My teeth grind, my gums sting, my jaws flinch from and flame in chemical pain

And from all this. I confess I've become more sane

My backbones sprain from the tensions of unresolved game

I refuse to return home! Thrust open my wounds where my nerves have ruined

Rupture my skin where my membranes bare thinned

Tear my limbs that resist in abstinence

Here- taste the Truth through fists and slit throats –

And prefer this over death from slit wrists, pills, drunk and doped

Thank me later, for now, do what you will – let the noise persist!

Running in half excitement, half regret, index finger to sky, a bulletproof vest

I turn around – what can my enemies do to me if Allah has promised me success?

I waken with moistened eyes, tired and high off of unresolved life

Some dreams seem like real life; sometimes, life seems like a dream

I steel from the greedy the remnants of my fitrah and run into the dungeon of death

Jannah awaits!

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