Miscellaneous verses by
Jamiluddin Morris Zahuri
|Wise and Witty
The young and pretty are not always wise and witty,
Though may be smart:
But the wise and witty are always young and pretty –
In the heart!
You keep urging me to write more poetry,
Sometimes I think, you think, I am a tree,
From which new foliage sprouts continually,
Well, if that is what God intends, thus it will be.
If so, sit in the shade of my branches today,
Then catch any verses that fall your way;
And if you want, like the bulbul does to the rose,
You can give me news of how everything goes.
For a tree stays put and doesn’t roam about,
Just stands there and tries to work everything out;
But if on leaving you give a warm hug to me,
I won’t be embarrassed, ‘cos I am only a tree.
Those who with their look alchemy of the dust -- make.
At us, surreptitious glances do they -- make? Hafiz
This pretty Irani maid is sure in my sight,
With her one could pass many a glorious night.
She is shyer with her glance than an antelope,
But she is already caught in my trap tonight.
If I was an egg,
I would surely beg
To be eaten by you.
That is what Love can do!
When you cook from the book,
The result good is likely to look!
When you cook from the heart,
Then cooking becomes a real art.
The Muse of Poetry
This muse amuses me a lot!
When she comes to visit me,
For others I give not a jot!
But dear wife don't jealous be,
Flesh and blood she is not.
Wet, Wet, Wet
Rain is inevitably wet – the more, the wetter,
Love is inevitably great – the more, the better.
Life comes from nowhere,
Then goes back there.
This poetic imagery,
Veils His reality,
But in joy,
Inside many a demure and modest maiden,
A fire burns that is not openly expressed,
And in many to wild and restless ways given,
A meek and modest soul we find suppressed.
And often many a modest, mild-mannered fella,
Hides a super hero - so modern myth tells us!
Whilst many a one with a burly Rustam like figure,
Conceals a quiet and contented eater of lettuce.
The Drunkard's Request
O keeper of the kegs, is there any more?
My beaker is half full and half empty for sure,
Either pour again till it overflows, like before,
Or let me drain it to the dregs, then give one more.
The Landlord's Reply
Dear sir I see you have the time
To make all these verses rhyme,
so you must be fairly sober
otherwise you would
not know a rhyme
or how to
in to a
Drink your fill, as you will.
I am Drunk Again
I was drunk for so many days - I just couldn't help loving,
I prayed and You made me sober again
Today a book of the verses of Your poet reached me -
I am drunk again - drunk again - drunk again!
O yes curvaceous contours can create,
Feelings that the heart and the mind elate!
But be aware of the need for purity,
They can also base nature stimulate.
When love comes calling please try to be in!
Though he will leave a card to say he’s been,
It would be a shame if you were to miss him,
Without love how can any party begin.
O fresh-faced young man just starting out on the path of love,
Hear some words and regard them as having come from above.
To reach that divine feminine, a ladder you must climb,
Or take the stairs, take the lift, you can even fly, in rhyme,
But whatever you do – be sure a gift to carry with you,
For if you arrive there empty handed, no good will it do!
Make it very precious too, words are fine for getting there,
But fine words on her finger or round her neck she can’t wear.
Beneath the Froth find the Coffee.
You may think that short witty ditties
Like these, are only intended to please;
Well they are; but blow the froth away,
You may find they have something to say
Though they say it in a humorous way,
Someone said, ’I really love all this poetry,
You should put it in a book for others to see.’
Well, maybe, if God wishes and wills it to be,
But probably published posthumously.
Milk (forever fresh)
A cup of milk behaving freshly, 17
Came dancing towards me;
Sort of spinning, rhythmically!
It is milk for me today, then, I see!
If sometime you come across a tree,
(And there is no one around to see),
Please, give it a big hug from me,
Even if it has to be done, secretly.
The Market Place
Ah that pretty, witty, little market maid,
T’was not the apples or oranges she displayed,
That made the punters flock to her stall,
T'was cherry-red lips, that brought in the trade.
Of Love lust is not a lover
It is just a lover of blubber.
Modes of Transport
By car you get there quicker,
By cycle you get there fitter,
By walking you get there wiser,
By running you get there sweatier;
But getting there surely is easier,
if you become an early riser.
The junk in a shed is only useful really,
If you can turn on the light to see.
So whatever fate stores in your mind,
Make sure the switch you can find.
Want to be Wise?
Want to be wise and respected too?
I will tell you exactly what to do,
First, find a fool, and study him well,
Any nearby mirror will be just swell.
You can criticise him in any way you will,
Till your critical faculty’s an empty shell,
But please make sure that he doesn’t depart
Till he has taken every single word to heart.
You will know for sure that this is the case,
When he says he’s not fit for the human race.
Then finally kill him, with kindness of heart,
Let him know that of living he’s just made a start.
What am I forgetting? I have forgot!
Perhaps I should tie myself a knot!
O yes! To remember to forget myself a lot
And always, remember to remember You!
Or was it only to remember that You
Are so near I cannot tell me from You
Anyhow, whatever I may have forgot,
I can be quite certain that You have not!
JMZ Jan 12
Ah my darling, witty, pretty, literary muse,
The musings of philosophy - are they just a ruse?
Is it pert nose, sweet smile, bright eyes and red lips,
That inspire the selection of the words I use?
Enterprising pretenders present a perfect pitch,
Secretly seeking to take some money from the rich!
Take a lesson from what they are trying to do,
It targets the weakness that already exists in you.
So thank God for showing what you needed to know,
And remediate the fault so you can avoid the blow.
Take no advantage of a sweet looking dog like me,
Although I am trained friendly and funny to be,
And will laugh if you try tickle me on my tummy:
But at the other end of my leash - my Master see!
Poor old Self-pity sought me out and said:
‘By me to destruction many have been 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’”
Hey! What do I Know?
It may at first seem like blasphemy,
But Hafiz I do not find in his poetry!
With all that magnificent mastery
In the end only a shining mirror I see.
And should he take me to task,
Forgiveness I would surely ask,
And say it is due to such stupidity,
That I am in the mess you see.