Poet's Corner
Section Twenty
Miscellaneous verses by
Jamiluddin Morris Zahuri
Recent - miscellaneous (Jan 2014)
not categorised
Thoughts after reading 'Farukh' from Hafiz' Diwan

From the blessings of Hafiz, poetry gained sanctity,
His sainthood he did not get from writing poetry.
Those enchanted and enchanting images and rhymes,
But for Hafiz perfect purity, would be mere idolatry
Ah its so easy to get caught by culture’s hook,
But those succeed who for another bait look.
Gain the ruby of a loving heart and pure white soul,
Find the source of all art, the Mother of the Book.

More than all the beauty of a good book,
I found in your one long, lingering, love-look;
The Mother of the book I saw in your heart,
When away the veil of indifference you took.

To the Murids

Your need I am obliged and love dearly to feed,
So need my love, and for my love show greed,

My love share between you thanks God it wont lessen,
For the more  need, the more the love - that’s the lesson.

Come pour in the need and let there be a fusion,
For love is real life and  the rest is the illusion.

Your mind knows we are one now feel it with your heart,
Love draws in, binds together till we cannot really ever part.

Like the musicians let each play their part, as they will,
The morning chorus is more than each bird alone can trill.

You may imagine this is from your affection for me,
Truth is Allah granted this gift to us all, this try to see.

Shiraz's Heart
If you love beauty you mean you love the heart of Fars, that’s Shiraz,
If you love that sweet city you mean of course you love Hafiz of Shiraz;
If the poetry of love on you casts a spell, that’s the magic he weaves,
That master of  intoxicated lovers, the eternal Saki, that’s Hafiz of Shiraz..


Sweet scented, it spreads its eager, seeking, branches, our jasmine,
Inside and out of our Manzil - tracing green patterns is, our jasmine;
We weave bright coloured lights amongst those small green leaves,
But the milky way outshines candles - like the white petals of our jasmine.

The Lover's Courage

O its one thing to take what You give,  and to enjoy,
After all, ‘Which of the gifts of the Lord would you deny?’

Its quite another to refuse and insist, (or at least to try),
That it's not Your gifts I came for, but for You alone I cry.

To brave the lion, so real, guarding the great door,
And enter that house saying, “You are more than more!”

This is  the courage of real love, for sure, for sure,
This is the way of those whose hearts are truly pure.

This the way to go for those who are spiritually mature,
The way to be a lover, a lover of God, like Zahur.

The Successful Lover

The lover who succeeds is no more, no more,
There can be no successful lover that’s for sure.
For the lover who succeeds, unites and becomes,
The self-same beloved he was searching for.

Eid ul Milad

The advice I give though it is directed to you,
Is really the advice that He gives to me too.
Barriers evaporate, I wonder, who is who,
Till everything disintegrates into  Hu.

If He were to grant you all you pray for so easily,
What a pickle your life and your heart would be.
Its fortunate his wisdom smiles on you more benignly
So pray more carefully or else patient learn to be.

Celebrate, be happy, and smiles and hugs bestow,
Today all those years ago Allah smiled on us below,
A messenger he sent to change the very heart of man,
On such a day as this, was born again the soul of man.

New Day

I have just woken up! Let us see what today will bring
To talk to my love so soon causes my heart to sing
To feel the heart throbbing with love's pent passion,
May the Day of Awakening be in similar fashion

Little by Little

Foolish heart how is it you could you not see,
If you pull back the veil hiding reality,
So suddenly, so quickly, so completely,
The innocent child from that light will flee.

For God’s sake now with gentle touch,
Soothe a heart that heard too much,
Now speak soothing words of kindness,
Little by little is how to cure heart blindness.

Hafiz the Saint

From the blessings of Hafiz, poetry gained sanctity,
His sainthood he did not get from writing poetry.
Those enchanted and enchanting images and rhymes,
But for Hafiz' perfect purity, would be mere idolatry

Ah its so easy to get caught by culture’s hook,
But those succeed who for another bait look.
Gain the ruby of a loving heart and pure white soul,
Find the source of all arts, the Mother of the book.


Sleep lingers, longing to draw us back into its embrace,
Like a lover reluctant to let go, it smiles invitingly,
With its soft fingers love-hearts it seeks to trace,
‘Just one more honey sweet kiss’ it asks temptingly;
But will and duty insist -  ‘Up and rejoin the race‘
Made of stern stuff they seem to be - irritatingly.

Seven and Five

Hey little boy how old are you, you must be seven,
And that little girl, five? Both of you here in heaven?
Is it you who have written the story of my life for me,
Drawn the bright pictures, shown the way it will be?

Is it my lost children that you are or would have been,
The one’s in this world’s life not destined to be seen?
Then draw the tears of my heart’s sad sobs and sighs,
For come they will, no matter that I know, God is wise.

At the Burial of Zahur  Mian

The earth was wounded by You, then a salve You gave,
The cure was the body of one to whom my heart I gave.
That wound, the grave was opened then filled up again,
With one who, from that place, one last loving look gave.

A Dip into Madness

Dear audience of one in my head or is it heart,
All embodied people however close must part,

You on the other hand are there and uncritically hear,
The many sermons and madcap notions that appear.

Be it day or night, dark or light, hot or cold,  wet or dry,
My honeyed words delight you even when you know I lie.

I am not sure how you manage the clever little trick,
Is it just you alone or are you changing hats very quick,

For you have so many personalities it seems to me,
How is it possible just one person you can possibly be.

Yes of course schizophrenia yes that it must surely be,
Thanks be to God who became my Friend and showed me,

The workings of the mind and heart and put me right,
Beyond the fractured mirror showed a single absorbing light,

Now the mysteries of the many and the One I see,
In the light of that Comprehensive Universal Singularity

Each part of the mirror is reflecting that one light into me,
In the whole of humanity there is but one personality.

Busy Bee

That one who is waiting for the beloved to arrive,
Busies themselves like bees buzzing around a hive.

Finds a million pointless tasks; does none properly,
Polishes the silver, burnishes gold, cleans endlessly.

The one who waits for the beloved to arrive,
Fortunate, crazy fool, so blessed to be so alive.

Pictures the scene in a thousand different ways,
Window, door, ethereal, solid, in a light blaze?

That the beloved is already here; doesn't yet realise,
Is inside and waiting for the lover open their eyes.

Hard Working

Ah I love that hard work you are not shirking,
But the hardest, best, work is positive thinking,
For positive thinking is a kind of remembering,
That there is a Presence that life is overseeing.

Partial and Universal Intellect

What we call intellect proud and strong will stand,
To defeat or absorb any thought from a foreign land
How easily he can assume he is in complete command
For to the Universal Intellect sadly his back is turned.

When invaders come he stands alone with a paper knife,
And laughs and grows proud when they run for their life,
He assumes they run scared from his ferocity, you see,
But they have seen behind him the Lion of Universality.

Thought Control

Subtle thoughts that slip into the mind quietly,
Sit in the back row so that no one can see,
Sit there with their quiet brief of negativity,

Search the heart and mind till you find them,
Then take them, bind them and remind them,
Here they have no place Then to God return them.

Do this so everyone sees justice in your word,
But slip into their pocket a note to the Lord,
‘You sent them to remind me of your sword.

You Who encompass every motion of creation,
The source of both sadness and elation,
The originator of every origination‘

Demanding Love

I want to take you in hand, if you understand,
And make of you every kind of deep demand.
Turn you this way, and then that, then another,
Penetrate to the core, all rebellion to smother!
Till you are ready, willing, and able to receive,
The flow of love on offer, you I will not leave.

The Fireplace of Love

There is a subtle thought that the mind has been concealing,
That somehow it has departed - that sweet, loving, feeling.

Draw aside the veil of that thought and be revealing,
The fire of love, in its full intensity, that is forever burning.

You placed a fire guard before it to protect children playing,
Send them off to bed and with the beloved one be staying.

It’s the kind of fire that all corruption is consuming,
One, that heart and mind it is thoroughly cleansing.

Its substance is that liquid light, with which the soul is shining,
Fantasy, folly, unfounded fears, feeble excuses it’s destroying..

Its energy is eternal, fierce and can be very, very, frightening,
But the intensity of love to your life it is constantly bringing.

O great Khawaja your meditations, so profound and so inspiring,
These thoughts to the mind of your servant Zahuri they are bringing.

It Rises

O it rises, can you feel it, the spirit rises. Rises!
Though in this  I know there should be no surprises,

You can try to eat and drink, but inexorably, still it rises,
Water turns to wine, and  food flavours fuel it, as it rises.

Pace the floor, open or close the door, any old thing,
Calm to the breast no actions or thought will bring.

For, within, the spirit rises, yes suddenly it rises.
Though I know in this there should no surprises.

I have been this way before still it takes me unaware,
Like nothing else at all, and no way can one prepare.

Even poetry becomes full of many repeated reprises,
That’s how it is when inside the body, the spirit rises.

A Dichotomy

How to integrate inside the psyche a new world full of energy,
Where new is good and so newer therefore better must be -
With an ancient creed that holds perfection the goal of eternity,
And with this eternal status quo says, all aspiration must agree?

What you are asking of me is how to square the circle, surely,
Well only by adding a dimension to heart and thought can this be!
See the grand domes that accomplish this task geometrically,
The psyche too must find the dimension of a living spirituality.

In every age or time the Benevolence of the Origin of eternity,
Renews the covenant between eternal souls and new creativity,
The Perfect Soul of Mankind grows developing continuously,
Keep sight of this perfection but know it is evolutionary.

From perfection to perfection it grows nourished by divinity,
One perfection succeeds another, within, and also manifestly.
New is not better unless revealing a new perfection, inherently,
And a perfection that is past must not deny new perfectibility.

Happy Heart

Oh happy is she whose longing to sit beneath a tree,
Brought her feet to the foot of one such as me.
As in my shadow she laughs and weeps and plays,
The sound of her happy heart also brings joy to me.

April 1st 2014

When all else is said and done or maybe left undone,
If you are on the way of Love, only this must be done,  

Concentration on Love alone - then living has begun,
Then all nature flirts and flutters its eyelashes at the sun.

And on the green grass in light blue flowery dress you lie,
The verse of Hafiz in one hand and longing in your eye.

Abandoned on the path see pale winter's discarded dress,
Of ‘how’ and ‘why’, replaced by the cotton frock of ‘yes‘.

Hear, in the music of the waterfall, what Hafiz has to say.
See the rainbow rising there, sun and water in love play.

When love and beauty unite like this can lovers be apart;
Can the beloved be far away? No further than your heart

Speeding Train
* ( Ref to Audens's 'Night Mail' Poem)

Ever since that night-mail’s* noisy rhythms clattered
Into every school book, and completely shattered,
The pastoral rhythms as if nothing else mattered;

But speed,

And the clitter clatter,
Of the busy go getter,
Or the chitter chatter,
Of the gossip-monger,
Or the literary litter
Of an on-line twitter.

Or fashion follower,
Or mad hatter,
Or headline grabber,
Or kerb crawler;
Or road-runner,
Or drug trafficker,
Or phone-hacker,
Or fast food snack-er,
Or tail-gater,

Or even the odd impatient waiter,

And the hum of wires,
Or screech of tyres,
Or whistle of bullets,
Or splatter of gullets.

That train never really came to any stop,
Just changed lines became, pop or hip-hop,
And even more rapidly turned into rap,
And more comically into - Pow - Zap!
That train’s becoming a computer
Everyone says its heading for the future,
It has only one speed - and that’s accelerate,
Cos everyone aboard appears to be late.
Where its going no longer seems to matter,
As long as the train owners are getting fatter,
And as long as it gets there a whole lot faster,
Though we know one day it will hit the buffer.
But all I really wanted was to send a love letter.
Zahid Warning (zahid = puritanically minded person)
Watch out, watch out, there are zahids about,
They see a lover, and take him for a lager lout,
Leave them to their punctilious behaviours,
The way of lovers is not for them or most others.
But if on the wine of love you have come to rely,
When the zahids speak, take care not to reply.
The way of the lover is quite unlike any other,
So salam aleikum is all you need say to that brother,
On the way to the tavern to drown your self-hood,
In a pint of bitter-sweet, love-wine tasting so good.

O my muse when you put your spectacles on,
Definition has come and all whimsy has gone;
But when you take them off and smile at me,
Only your radiant beauty, in everything I see.

The sun assumes his shades when you appear,
To be dazzled by those eyes he surely fears;
The clouds look on and pay their watery due,
The garden laughs and homage pays to you.

Love Dawning

Love crept so quietly in to my sleepy head,
Like the dawn light it came, and gently  said,
To the phantoms of the night living there,
Come, settle down and hear love's prayer.

Like the heart beat you may be unaware,
That I am here, or imagine me elsewhere,
But all confusions, stress and hidden pain,
I will consume! So not even one will remain!
On my reality the quality of life does depend,
My presence is the essence without end'.

After that prayer my head began to clear,
And I saw that love is neither far not near,
If it is anywhere at all, that place is here, somehow,
Just as the eternal present moment is always 'now'.

Light Up

Light up the day with work, light up the night with prayer,
Light up day and night with the work and prayer of love.
Light up leisure with the pleasure of love and heart prayer,
Light up work with labour done, done like a prayer of love.

Dancing in the Market Place

O understand this if you can or if you will,
Whatever you see  it is the Face of God still.
So if you want to dance in the market place
Know everything you see, reveals God’s Will.


Workaday clothes, workaday loads, and those busy roads!
Life goes like this unless one day we reach a cross-roads.
We stand there wondering what to do and where to go,
We don’t know it, we’re waiting for one who knows the road.

Fortunate is that one who hears when he is told,
Who dies happily to the weary, worldly life of old:
Who finds the hidden treasure within his very soul,
For him whichever road he takes turns into pure gold.

Love Sums

In all its splendour, love is still numerical negativity,
One plus one is two I don’t doubt you agree,
But in love and math one into one still makes one,
So I say again love is a numerical negativity

Make Love Welcome

O sustain the thought of love that is peering in the door,
Open wide the entrance and strew roses over the floor,
Turn all other thoughts away, and do it every day,
In gratitude for love coming lay out a feast for the poor.

Polish your funny stories and sweet love poems say,
Bring out the best crystal glasses, a white tablecloth lay.
Smile as from your most treasured wine a glass you pour,
And if you please enough maybe love with you will stay.

Does it Matter

In the realm of ‘It doesn’t matter‘- it doesn’t matter,
Anywhere else whatever matters really does matter.
So if you are living in the realm of ‘It doesn’t matter‘,
Do as you choose and to critics say ‘It doesn’t matter‘.
If you are not, then learn all the rules as best you can,
For you are not carefree, rather just a care-less man.


The antelope before the lion lay down in sweet surrender,
The lion without delay,  eagerly consumed flesh so tender.

From that feast the antelope arose anew, now a lion victorious,
The robe of royalty and of fearful aspect it wore was glorious.

If a lion of the spiritual path you happily encounter,
The one way to overcome that king is abject surrender.

And if this talk of raw meat and vicious animal murder,
Makes you blanch, the lion is the power of God, remember.


Deeply moving, sonorous sound,
Words from places so very profound,
That  outer senses are not hearing;
Rhythms that mysteries are revealing.

Let it flow, let it go through your mind,
Then let it in your heart be entwined,
Winding,weaving, in that spacious place,
Filigree patterns  finer than the choicest lace.

Gold that’s never been bought or sold,
Pearls so luminous, diamonds so cold,
Sun enriched red rubies  illuminating,
The heart’s core where love is living.

A Daisy Chain
(12 verses from the same time period only loosely linked)

A rosebud was dying inside to flower,
It began to weep in a spring shower;
The sun's kind rays warmed it gently,
It opened! So fine the scent it gave me.

Your love is true, no other words will do!
Eternal, the bond there is between us two;
Your love is so true that you patiently wait,
Till we meet the other side of heaven’s gate.

The dawn raid
you made on my heart finished me,
You stormed ashore and completely ravished me,
My complaints and excuses could not defend me,
Now in my heart only
you I see; and your beauty.

An edifice you built with long, hard, labour,
To shelter a soft heart from endless torture,
Now that heart is making a plea, ‘Rescue me‘,
But to tear down that edifice you must first agree.

The independent mind is a straight up cypress tree,
Its love for the wild, windswept rose it cannot see.
Give up that independence accept dependency,
Let that lovely rose wind round that cypress tree.

Endless though these verses appear to be
Their endlessness depends not at all on me,
For minute by minute
you pour into my mind,
fresh thoughts,new fish swimming effortlessly.

A shoal of fish is such a strange kind of unity,
With a single mind they turn and re-turn frequently,
Where are they going, why, and who directs them?
Like thoughts; and on the page my pen puts them.

Ah that one got away but its okay,
A thousand come long every day;
Let it be, after a while it will amble back,
There is only one sure and right track.

Lover’s may think to become the beloved easily
Do they not see that the beloved, is always ‘me‘.
This becomes the case when you lose all identity,
The space where you appear to be, is, well - empty.

Eyes that would melt the north pole,
Into my heart those two eyes stole;
Found the well I kept hidden there,
And washed in tears my very soul.

Come, step into the light and let me see,
The heart thats been hiding itself from me:
Layer upon layer of white capped peaks,
And valleys deep, of this your heart speaks.


Within the organ bursting ecstasy of the Beloved’s kiss,
Are hid myriad melodies singing, in harmony, of bliss.

The shrill piercing cry of pure passion is, and is not, in this,
For when that note hit’s the heights, glass shattering it is.

The assembled angels pour into the cup of your head,
Such liquid gold that even the alchemist greed is fed.

There is only One Beloved who can do this, soul and body,
Smashing every-clay footed idol; for whom that kiss is deadly.

So if by such a kiss you are fascinated be very, very wary,
Make sure you are clear of both coarse and subtle idolatry.

But even more than this, there is the life of wedded bliss,
The kiss passes (though lingering long in the heart it is).

But permanent union with all its various joys and woes,
Is the manifestation of love, towards which the soul goes.

Musings on the Friend

I thought maybe the time of closeness with the Friend,
Had slipped away or had in some way reached its end.

Then it came to me the Friend had just transmuted,
Into the muse who to me love verse had  gifted.

Yes, I see you now peeping out from that veil,
So its true your friendship does not ever fail.

Now I have found you again how should I talk to another,
Recite your verse my friend, my beloved muse,O lover.


My dear one you have become love’s pen,
Know indeed my door to you is always open.

You have been in bewilderment avenue pacing,
To and fro in front of my door, footsteps retracing.

Like a lover with a bunch of flowers going sadly limp,
Tormented by doubt, that subtle mischief making imp.

Come in and drink wine and admire my beauty,
Am I not after all really the lover’s just booty.


Breath a little more easily the salty sea air,
The ocean departs not, but is waiting there.

Tickling the toes that on the shore stand,
See the pile of clothes there in the sand

They belong to one who left land behind,
To swim with dolphins for peace of mind.

You Left

With out word you sat, then left courteously,
I was wondering what the reason could be.

Now with reason I do not often keep company,
Still your absence filled me with curiosity.

Perhaps like Yusuf a shirt you will send to me,
To be for my eyes a balm, so that I can see.


I lay claim to hypocrisy that I know You see,
Lord help me, help me Lord, Lord help me,
Lord lead me to the very heart of sincerity,
For this alone seems to be the only cure for me,
But to find it there is no help but Your Mercy,
O rescue me from this drunken, worldly, reverie.

The Big Gun

In the early morning the moist mist concealed the sun,
In the camp soldiers stirred, heard, ‘Ready your gun‘,

As if awoken the sun began to pierce with a ray,
The clouds that hid its glorious morning display.

Soldiers struggled with canvas and untied tarpaulin,
Blood-soaked the sky’s colour, as the sun began to win,

At last that weapon of war emerged shining bright,
As dark night surrendered to the sunrise’ early light.

Such a potent frightful sight was that weapon of might,
The remaining clouds lifted their skirts and took flight.

Wake up you soldiers of the light, be ready for war,
The Self rests not, but Love is worth fighting for.


You came in many disguises to teach me how to love You,
Sometimes shyly concealing the fire within as You like to do,

Sometimes boldly, flagrantly demanding that my love I give You,
Sometimes subtle hints you dropped,  and your veil let slip too.

Sometimes You came teasing, displaying an inviting curve or two,
Sometimes boldly You wanted to know what I intended to do.

Sometimes You came to unscramble my brain as you like to do,
Sometimes like a nurse caring and sweet, but seeking love too.

In a thousand subtle ways you came to see what I would do,
But in each and every guise, eventually I would see it was You.

I Fell

I fell for You, the way that every would be lover must do,
Into every snare you placed there, I fell, from love for You.
Every idol you threw into my path, I embraced happily,
So saucy of You to try, in this cute manner, to divert me  

I fall again and again, but in the end there is only one gain,
That from each trap You spring me, till only You remain.
I fell from greed, from lust, from piety, from utter ignorance,
And so much more, and on each snare I happily now dance.

Each trap on the way I collect, and on my cart duly load it,
A pile of rusting junk ready for you, into pure gold to turn it.
Oh yes I fell, and by your coquettish charms I was disarmed,
But beneath those charming faces Your true Love I discerned.


On the isle of your soul’s purity a boat of hostility beached,
And your heart it made sad, as your tranquillity it breached.
Time and time again your mind and heart it roughly touched,
It will fail, for by enmity the soul’s essence wont be reached.
On Philosophy

On the plateau of Plato only an empty plate I find,
For the plots of Plotinus to unwind, O I surely pined.
Socrates, mind you, knew how to score a goal or two!
Corny puns on Kant? No this is I really jest cant do,
Am I a cart before horse, or behind - as Descarte - thinks I am,
I’m a pole frozen rigid by feuds, frauds, and Freuds, - spare a dram?
Or stoned may be I have become on the wit of Witgenstein,
O I would give all of these and more for a drop of Hafiz wine,
Thanks God one put all those books down in relative good time,
Or to the Gate of Knowledge I might have had a longer climb.


The time has come to reclaim those memories,
The bliss of love shared and sweet harmonies,
They became too painful to recall or think of at all,
When destiny untied the knot that held us in thrall.

For so long that pain it seemed held not any gain,
When love came, but simply would not remain.
Deeply hidden inside it may be but the truth is,
The splendour of that love was there, and it still is.

The past I buried, maybe you did too, in the mind,
But beneath the layers of time, something new I find.
A place full of sweetness and light and loving ecstasy,
That daily grows stronger and I can visit now so freely.

The pain too became a chest of jewels and gold,
No longer the heart remains locked out in the cold.
Now it seems it all happened barely an hour ago,
I bless that time when love I first came to know.

Those Amazing Moments

There are moments and places in which lovers gather,
Not planned or advertised they just come together.
A nexus, a point both in and out of time and space,
Where life-lines meet and greet, at last face to face.
Until I get there I wonder why they don’t linger longer,
When I arrive I realise its because it makes love stronger.


Two cats met in the alley and sharpened their claws
Neither would give way, it is one of natures laws;
Do you want to live like animals and eat or be eaten,
Or rise and learn the ways of love and its holy laws.


Each moment spent in a drunken love state,
Is a moment away from my self - it s great!
Generally speaking habits are considered bad,
But this addiction to love rather makes me glad.
Wine drinking in the morning and in the night,
Can it be considered wise can it really be right?
Oh these considerations make me sober and sad,
The cure is, have another, as cures go, not bad!

Silent Bird

Salaams silent bird, head cocked on one side, listening,
For any silent words the green grass may be uttering;
Fly down a while from your high branch and sit with me,
So we can talk a little more of love, of life and of liberty.

Pretty your feathers, and sharp your eyes I can see,
Why not share your beauty with a beggar like me;
And I will share these simple sandwiches with you,
Come under this tree, on soft grass, just we two.