Poet's Corner

Miscellaneous verses by
Jamiluddin Morris Zahuri
Longer Poems
Words with the Beloved

Whoever I meet,
Whatever I do,
or see,
or know,
or imagine,
or hear,
or feel,
or think,
or touch,
or dream
or plan,
or wherever I turn,
Whatever I have been, or am now, or will become
It was, is now,  and will always be - Only You

I thought it was this or that, true,
But it was always and only You.
I thought it was him or her too,
But it was always and only You.

I thought it was something new,
But it was always and only You.
I thought it was something rare and true,
was - it was always and only You.

was this or that, its true
But it was always really You.
was him or her, too,
But it was always really You.

And in so many places
and in so many faces
I found so many traces
Of only You

I went to school, now I know - it was all really You
I went to college but I really learned about only You
I did so many different jobs - but always really for You
I fell in love so many times, but always really  with You

I have been sad but that sadness was You
I have been happy but that happiness was You
I have had my heart-broken - but always by You
I thought I learnt many things but they were all You

So many words of mine about You
Or are they, also, only Your words too?
Am I hiding behind them or are You?
Is there is only one, and there never was two?

The Beloved's Reply

The beginning of loving is becoming 'Me' in 'You'
To bring love into existence I became 'Me' and 'You'
Love separates and unites both 'You' and 'Me'
And between brings into being what needs be.

The Lover's Reply

You have broken my heart
And it really, really  did hurt


What an excellent start!
Remember Jacob and Joseph's Shirt!
Mevlana and Shems (I can't tell apart)?
Nizamuddin and Amir Khusro too?
And Majnun and Laila - Oh so true!


And what purpose can there be
In this game of You and me?


The purpose is to bring into being
The actual fact, yes the material thing.
That is the evidence of the true love
In man and woman and heaven above.


And this talk now of you and me?


Print out the poem - you will see.

JMZ Jan 25 2012

Adjustment to A New Place

Different head wear, different faces,
Different manners, different graces!
Into life’s fabric difference is threaded,
And expectations must surely be shredded.
So tell me how is a stranger to survive,
To make here a life and still to thrive?

Into the soul’s very life one must dive,
To the place where one can feel alive.
That is the essence of living anywhere,
You can don any garb once living there,
Rough coat, baseball cap, finest silk apparel,
Whatever it is, if it fits - no need to quarrel.


Future hopes in places far away,
Draw us towards this final day:
But as it draws near a fine tremor of fear,
At giving up all that we found living here,
Gives the heart cause to flutter,
As fond farewells we sadly utter.

The One

Oh the one who wonders at the One,
In his wonder wanders not from the One,
In oneness with the One, each breath is praise,
Oneness manifest in all he does or says.
But the wonder is the discrimination he displays,
Between the Ones many and varied ways.

Repentance Accepted

The time of repentance is passed,
The time for sweet wine is here at last!
Whatever was done was done by one,
Who is but a reflection of the only One.
The sin now would be not to rejoice,
Or not to give praise with heart and voice!

The King says ‘Sit not far away any longer,
Do not, in the corner, crestfallen, still linger!’
‘But come into the light of my smile,
And sit in a place of honour for a while,
Near the throne of Love for all to see;
And for certainty, receive a gift from me.

Let it Be

For the gardener the garden, let it be;
For the scholar their studies, let it be;
For the pious their piety, let it be,
But let it be the Way of Love for me.

For the Buddhist the Dharma, let it be;
For the Christians the cross, let it be;
For the Jew their interest, let it be;
But let it be the Way of Love for me.

For the Hindu the Ganga, let it be;
For the Muslim five pillars; let it be,
For the Sikh the Temple, let it be,
But let it be the Way of Love for me.

For the king his crown, let it be;
For the beggar his bowl, let it be;
For the worker his wage, let it be,
But let it be the Way of Love for me.

For the hedonist their pleasures, let it be;
For the miser his money, let it be;
To the materialist disbelief, let it be;
But let it be the Way of Love for me.

For the criminal the crime, let it be;
For the lazy the soft bed, let it be;
For the athlete competition, let it be,
But let it be the Way of Love for me.

For the wise wisdom, let it be;
For the fools their foolishness, let it be;
For the children their  toys, let it be,
But let it be the Way of Love for me.

For the artist the exhibition, let it be;
For the soldier the fighting, let it be;
For the fisherman his catch, let it be,
But let it be the Way of Love for me.

For the sick, the hospital, let it be;
For the teacher the school, let it be;
For the gamblers their luck, let it be,
But let it be the Way of Love for me.

For the river the Ocean let it find,
To each his own -  no need to mind;
The lover longs only the Beloved to be,
So let it be the Way of Love for me,

Sep 2012


Salaam, in silence can everywhere be heard,
Beneath the spiralling swoop of every bird,
Beneath the whorls and eddies of every stream,
Beneath the metaphorical maze of every dream;

Beneath the roar and cries of the ceaseless daily fight,
Beneath the crickets’ chattering in an oriental night,
Beneath the groans of this rotating rock,
Beneath the tick of life’s untiring clock;

Beneath the hopeless whimper of the poor,
Beneath the last breath of one at death’s door,
Beneath the cry of every infant just newly born,
Beneath the rustle of silk gowns elegantly worn;

Beneath the cry of the starving to be fed,
Beneath the prayer of the pure to be led.
Beneath this, and all the rest, Salaam is quietly hid,
To find its solace, listen, as before you never did.

July 13

Soldier On

Soldier on, sweet soldier, soldier on, soldier on!
Until every doubt and anxiety is gone.

And take back your life from the enemy within,
A new life is just waiting for you to begin.

Yes through pain and perplexity you have come,
Now march to the beat of a different drum.

This life is far too short to dwell on what is past,
So march towards the light of a new dawn at last;

And don’t imagine that you walk alone any more,
Know that you have a friend beside you for sure.

It is true - in shadows your journey has begun,
But shadows are really only proof of the sun.

The sun of Tabriz now has risen in your sky,
From such a sun the shadows so swiftly fly.

The scented breeze now caressing your cheeks,
Of a new fortune from above silently speaks.

So soldier on, sweet soldier, and home safely come,
For by God’s sweet grace, the best is yet to come.

Melting by the Sea

O persevere in patience and in prayer,
And to God alone turn when lost in fear!
Think you He is only On-high, on His throne?
Not so! He is here, He is here, He is here.

And just in case I did not make it quite clear,
I say it again - He is here, also here.
O linger not in lazy forgetfulness,
His kingdom, your heart, say is it not near?

See His signs, how everywhere they do appear,
Sitting here, just licking ices on the sea-shore;
Pause and reflect a while, not just on the sea,
See how His signs even in ice-cream appear!

O yes, our souls dwell in and with Him, my dear,
His subsistence in their substance does appear.
In the way ice-cream is derived from pure milk,
Which in its melting is evident and clear.

O yes, and one more thing while you are still here,
Ice-creams in many flavours and shapes appear,
Their tastes differ but on this all are agreed,
‘We are one, made of milk’, that is their prayer.

The Far Country of the Mind

O when time was not, we sat together I suspect,
Where time is not, we sit together too I expect:

In substance we are one, but in form two we are,
The way the same light is seen in sun, moon or star.

When God eases the limitations of the mind,
And opens new dimensions in a heart refined;

By that lovely one's black curl, away the lover is borne,
As star, moon and sun, certainly, to a black hole are drawn.

Ah you describe it, I see, as the ‘far country’ of the mind,
Strange, when we are so intimately intertwined?

Well let’s accept it as irony so humour in it find,
And travel there hand in hand, better say mind in mind.

No more palaces of pearls in this place will we find,
Even that fine world past imagination, is left behind.

Here everything is more real even than that reality,
As you will see, only if divinely written in your destiny.
Khawaja Hafiz Shirazi

To be daily drunk on divine love and in ecstasy,
In the tavern of Hafiz, the pearl of Shiraz try to be.

To get from inspired poetry a light that purifies purity
Or the key to unlock the door of your own destiny,

Beyond the seven heavens you will need to journey;
Where beauty dances daily in patterns of harmony.

Become nothing but just a silent empty wine cup,
That the generous master Hafiz you pray will fill up,

Advice From Hafiz

'Try hard to be happy',
Sounds, short, sharp and snappy.

The best advice we can receive,
Separation’s  pangs it can relieve.

Well happiness comes really from You,
Though the words are from Hafiz its true,

He has a wondrous way of revealing,
In words what You are often concealing.

Let us be happy with what we’ve got
And ask You, please, to untie the knot,

Our own foolishness has woven us in;
Knowing Your Love can turn our sin,

Into something so true and good -
(You nod your head so you understood).

If the Way of Love seems unforgiving,
It is our own insincerity it is showing.

For some it is better than any other way,
Whatever the pious preacher may say.

So now that Your pen has spoken,
To a heart that has been broken,

Our prayer is surely just this,
Into our heart pour Love’s bliss;

For trailing in Love’s great wake,
Happiness comes, for Love’s sake.

Clinging to the trellis like a vine,
Whose fruit is ripe to be Love’s wine.

Table Talk Over Tea

The talk of this and that over tea,
Enables folk to evade, usually,

The constant chitter-chatter of the mind,
Screening out the deeper words behind.

Those echoes too conceal the real
Conversations, that could reveal

The workings of the manifestly hidden.
But saying more is probably forbidden,

And socially would also be taboo!
So, sugar?  Just one lump - or two?

The Masnevi of Mevlana Rumi:
A Universal Inheritance.

How skilfully he dug that trench, just so,
That, from days seemingly long ago,
The substance flows of a pure spiritual fire,
Into the lives of those today, stuck in the mire.

He knew well that there would always be,
Some folk who could also mysteries see,
Directly from the source that inspired him;
Yet his labour of love was no mere whim.

Grateful we are that the glory of the past,
Is present, still, now - and will last and last.
So take the cup he offers in eternity,
Of ineffable truth manifested in poetry.

And let us say with reverential brevity,
As-salaam to the author of the Masnevi.

Passing Days

The days come and go – just so,
This we all do well know – no?
Young bodies mature and grow,
And older ones become slow,
The sum total of this we know,
Is that our life passes - just so!

But this secret you should know,
If the seed of love you sow,
And daily nurture it - just so,
It will continue to steadily grow,
And its effect will surely show,
Then real life you will truly know.

What ‘Every Wise Man’s Son Doth Know*’

The beginning of a journey; preparing,
The start of a journey; departing,
The journey; striving,
Journey’s end; arriving.

And meeting,
And greeting,
And unpacking.

Of the journey, telling,
And then, looking,
And seeing,
You are

(‘Journey’s end in lover’s meeting, every wise man’s son doth know.
’ *Twelfth Night –Shakespeare)

With Thy Love

By Thy signs inform me,
With Thy arms enfold me,
To Thy breast hold me,
With Thy love destroy me.

By Thy hand take me,
With Thy fragrance drown me,
By Thy look absorb me,
With Thy love destroy me.

By Thy Grace enchant me,
With Thy thought control me,
By Thy lip imbibe me,
With Thy love destroy me.

By Thy beauty excite me,
With Thy presence pervade me,
By Thy union calm me,
With Thy love destroy me.

Surrender to Success

Surrender to success, can you not see,
Success is when you surrender to He

Whose Reality lies barely concealed,
Yet cannot be known unless revealed.

When you cease from all effort to resist,
The devotion on which Love must insist.

When abject poverty of heart and mind,
You accept, and to it become resigned;

When in that devastation of all other desire,
The last particle of Self burns in Love’s fire,

And of a life without Love you do repent,
True success starts to make itself evident


Poor old Self-pity sought me out and said:
"By me to destruction many are led!’
"To the One Who sent you please return," I said,
"And say, by me you were well treated and fed,
But wherever gratitude and love have their bed,
Old Self-pity finds no space to lay his head.”

Learning to Swim

This air we need to breath and so,
Keep your head above the water flow,
And if some current drags you down,
Move arms and legs so you don’t drown!

If in this life you want to truly live,
To negative thoughts no place give‘
But divine grace contemplate,
And only your own self berate!

Rise to the surface once again,
And from gratitude do not refrain,
See where you are, and then forward go,
Towards the goal you could not see below.

Word Power

Last night this poem just came to me,
Like a ripe fruit dropping from a tree.

Words have a power to transform the mind,
Make the mean generous and the hard - kind,

A million words so much waffle may be,
But one word with weight moves powerfully.

So the power of the spoken word to move,
Is not from its meaning - thus we prove,

But from the root that the word implies,
This is well known to those who are wise.

In an ocean of mere empty words find,
The one that transforms heart and mind;

The word 'love' trips easily from many a tongue,
But find its buried root and be forever young.

We could say more on this quite easily,
But it is surely enough to say 'Let Love Be'

And if then the Beloved you may see,
Spirit and word unite essentially.


Do not a cynic be, for in cynicism lies mortality,
A single cliché uttered in complete sincerity,
Has a life in it that each time is 'forever young',
But in a sneer hear the solemn death bell rung.

O Helper in Dark Times

Oh Allah help we pray the victims of man’s stupidity,
Give the perpetrators a light, their crimes to see;
Your Mercy surely welcomes the innocent home,
The real criminal is hatred - from it make us free.

Poverty, horror and war abounds far too easily,
O man this all arises from the loss of your sanity!
In vanity and lust for power man forgot his home,
And forged for himself the chains of this misery.

Those who survive deserve help and sympathy,
Tears cried! A way to heaven’s help may they be!
O brother do not silence Love, the true way home,
In the light of Ramadan, this truth may we all see.


Calm descended and remained,
A calm so deep and profound,
As to silence all thought in the mind.
In that peace, confusion drowned.

Stillness, while the world turned,
Stillness, while the heavens reeled,
Stillness, while men rushed around,
Stillness upon stillness, so profound.

The essence of an axis is unmoving,
Though all around it is revolving,
So it is with the mystic dancing,
Stillness, despite the body turning.

See the Kaaba on whose holy ground,
The pilgrims earnestly flock around,
Or the calm falling on that brave band,
Whose lives were in Muhammed’s hand.

That peace is a place in your mind too,
The peace that, on a Mount, Jesus knew,
And Moses, whilst poor Pharaoh drowned.
And David too - as Goliath hit the ground.

That Jonah in the whale found, at last,
And Joseph too, in the well stuck fast,
That Buddha achieved just by sitting,
And Lao Tse while in the Tao flowing.

Like a lover in the loved ones arms,
Or a river that the ocean finally calms.
Yes, that peace is in your heart too,
Waiting, patiently, there; just for you.

Unrestricted Compassion

Beware, do not restrict compassion to your own kind,
This it is that has put poor man in such a nasty bind.

Compassion at home may be a good start,
But stop there, and all mankind falls apart.

The evil that all so readily, but feebly, deplore,
Could it be it starts at your own closed door?.

No matter a person does not look or talk like you,
With such considerations what has compassion to do.

Feelings for relatives and friends is all very well,
But at the cost of others  - surely the road to hell.

Charity is also for the stranger at your metaphorical door,
Its restriction is only that it is intended for the poor.

Of course guard it from the fraud's evil intent,
Bur even then be gentle and just a little lenient.

To refuse courtesy to one who is not ‘one of us‘,
Implies you think that God is only on your bus.

Such stupid idolatry is the unforgivable sin,
Extract it from the mind and bung it in the bin.

War, rape, murder and the abuses we deplore,
Arise from breaking this sacred and holy law.

So do not inquire of the stranger at that door,
If they are like you in some way, less or more.

In God’s Hand is the power to test our heart,
Through one who appears  not of 'us' to be a part