Poet's Corner
Section Twenty-one

Miscellaneous verses by
Jamiluddin Morris Zahuri
Recent - miscellaneous (April 2014)
not categorised

White clouds sailing by
Very, very, very, high
Pink, pink, the rose glows
Green, green, meadows.

Blue, blue, blue skies,
Brown, brown, brown eyes,

Light white distant peaks,
Hear how that parrot speaks,
Of far off sailing ships
And close pink smiling lips,

Blue, blue, blue skies,
Brown, brown, brown eyes,

Silver white the river winds
Yellow gold the sun shines,
Lit by a heavenly kiss
Is a perfect day like this

Blue, blue, blue skies,
Brown, brown, brown eyes,

How brightly colours shine
In love’s rich, ruby-red wine,
Night black pupils see,
By the light of eternity

Blue blue blue skies,
Brown brown brown eyes,

There is a heavenly unity,
Dressed in all this variety,
Flowing from the artists brush
Glowing in the lover’s blush.

Blue, blue, blue skies,
Brown brown brown eyes,

Silver in the moonlight,
The winding river shines bright,
Lit by a heavenly kiss
Is a perfect night like this.


Light distant haze on a far off horizon, deepening,
To such an intense blue, as the eyes drift higher, seeking,
To penetrate the mystery of the sky, but cannot do.
Anymore than the mind can know the mystery of You.

Pearl Seeking
A pearl seeking wanderer in the wild came to my door,
Lost and alone, heart-sad, sorry, world-weary and poor.
The way to the land of prosperity passed my door,
I pointed it out and even offered to do much more.
But that stranger, of my advice, felt very unsure.
I wonder when again that beggar will find my door,
For before leaving to become even more foot sore,
They dropped here, the pearl they were looking for.


In the heart and the mind and the soul,
Two become one to be made a whole.
Come bind with the cord of sweetest love,
Two souls blessed by the holy ones above.

Early Morning Thoughts

Wake with the thought of love, like a true, love-drunk, lover,
Chase away all other thoughts, and every lingering hangover,
Make the morning prayer in the heart, to sit at  love’s door,
Be the empty cup that into it love, the eternal Saki may pour.

Make love the early morning ablution,  and more over, lover,
The prayer carpet,  prostration, and confession or whatever,
Your particular religion demands, Be not content until,
Every corner of the heart and mind with love alone you fill.

Make love the essential daily chore that cant be ignored,
What though things you do or say seem human and flawed,
Love turns every kind of man-made error and imperfection,
Into an appreciation of the eternal, timeless, perfection.

And if, for a moment, love you don’t feel, then kneel in the heart,
And beg, pray and earnestly implore. Don’t relent or depart,
Until love turns to you again and bids your heart to rise,
For love is the competition, the daily fight, and the prize.

If you find fears lingering, that this love is all craziness,
Ask love that fear to bless, (while for the day you dress),
And keep on with cultivating the constant company,
Of love, in all you hear, do, think, feel, plan for, or see.

For the real fear is that at life’s end you might have to say,
I didn’t  love as much, or as long, or as well,  every day,
As I should have, could have, or would have liked to do.
So do it, while divine breath you have in the body too.

So, (as you head for the door to catch that bus, train or plane),
Do not let all this business your heart from love’s thought constrain,
You depart, as you did when God breathed Himself into your clay,
You will return God willing at the end of another extra-ordinary day

.Here is a Mystery

The essence of Presence, is the presence of the Essence,
True is the Essence that’s made manifest in Presence.

A myriad of pretences seem to obscure the Essence,
But pretences in truth rely on the truth of the Essence.

In the chamber of a myriad mirrors lover and beloved kiss,
Countless times reflected was that kiss and its great bliss.

Each reflection thought the kiss was uniquely hers and his,
But there was truly only one lover and beloved and one kiss.

Thoughts like these are in the dust of the doorstep of Hafiz,
Pray tell why anyone that doorstep would hesitate to kiss.

The longer you linger there the more enriched your heart is,
In the encyclopedia of your mind he makes so many entries.

Maybe if I stay long enough he will eventually grant me entry,
And wave away the fierce, justice-dealing, dutiful sentry.

In the ninth heaven he is, in a palace of pristine pure poetry;
Essence, word, and spirit unite there in a blaze of glory.

To enter there is to shed the load of a million iniquities,
Who can explain it? But be certain more than a mind trick it is.

To be candid I cant be sure who it is who is writing all this,
But it would come as no surprise to me to find it was Hafiz.


I saw five-petalled, white, eager little flowers, a mini milky way,
Amidst the glory of the galaxy-spanning rose garden today.

They were content enough, I guess, to shine out in their little way,
Until the first drops of sweet rain on their petals began to play.

A momentary little jig, each life receiving flower performed,
Till merry dancing became the order of the hour, it seemed.

As if citizens hearing good news came out to do a gig or two,
But it was only here and there, till the breeze into their midst blew.

Then the dancing spread and it became common place for all to do.
United, in the breeze, ripples into many waves of happiness grew.

As if the call to love, from stars high above, had reached that array,
Of small white-petalled flowers I saw dancing in the garden today.

may 14

Veiled and Open

In all that happens You are hidden, dearly Beloved one,
In good and bad your hidden hand I see, clear as the sun,
Behind every cloud I know it to be, God give patience to me,
That in storm, as in a welcome sunny day, I see Your mystery.

You Have Reached Your Destination

What if our sat-nav’s cool voice should say,
“You want to live, then here is the best way!
Day by day demands of domestic existence,
Drive the heart into a cul-de-sac of silence,
Wake from this dream of daily imperatives,
Neither life, nor love, is here - only relatives.
Return to love-drunk ways and love-drunk living,
Hear the words that love alone is speaking.
Reach out and touch with the heart’s hand,
The beloved’s lips, and try to understand,
Those words that permeate the wakeful mind;
Yes, once again the highway of divine-love find.”

I Was Poor

I was poor then became rich spiritually,
I became rich then found true poverty.
I was lost then the path was shown to me,
Now the path everywhere and nowhere I see.
I was a mass of inner conflicts and misery,
Was shown the peace that struggling can be.
‘I am so sorry’ were the words you waited for,
In that sorrow is the joy we were hoping for.

Present Tense

The future will be the fulfilment of the present,
The present, the actuality of what the past sent.
If you do not wish to repeat yourself, however,
To change the future is presently in your power.
The thoughts you have now you need to control,
The borders of your mind you must try to patrol.
If an evil intent in yourself you happen to detect,
Arrest it and examine it closely and then reject.
Search your heart for something much better,
And fill the vacancy left, with something sweeter.
Do this often enough and smooth the rough way,
Do this and tomorrow will not repeat today.

That Look

That heavenly beloved looked my way, for just a moment,
Maybe sensing love’s scent, or the happy heart’s movement;
Maybe that beauty just casually turned in my direction,
How is it, it can last forever, one single life-giving moment?

The Enemy

The hidden enemy is subtle and tricky for sure,
Has its ways of hiding and deceiving the pure.
But at last it is revealed, that foe within the heart,
No matter how well practised in deception’s art.
Once you have found it out, bind as best you can,
For, free, it can ruin the life of a woman or a man.
Whatever it tries to do oppose it, and do it sternly,
When it is bound fast only then can you be free.
Ignore protestations of a love that’s not really true,
Make it do the very things it most hates to do.
At the holy Prophet hand his Shaitan took Islam,
Chain your own enemy till it can do no more harm.

Of Course

Many events happen in the course of our lives, of course;
They may seem casual with many an explainable cause.
But as your life draw towards its dead centre, at some point,
And you see The Real Causer’s unity, you say – “Of course!”


Tremulous is the heart, when it finds its affection insulted;
Happy is the heart that finds its passion well regarded.

Restless and dissatisfied is the mind without any content;
Full fed and focused is the mind that has found intent.

Agitated are thoughts, by passing passions made to dance;
At peace is the brain, flooded by a divine remembrance.

Going nowhere is the wagon, that by wild horses was drawn;
In triumph, the carriage whose steeds were disciplined at dawn.

The progress of a row boat in turgid water is heavy going;
Smoothly and easily it glides on fresh water, swiftly flowing.

When the world’s weight sits on the mind, heart and body are heavy;
When love lifts it off again, suddenly, everything else seems easy.


Only the daily giving and receiving of love, is living truly;
Beyond being and not-being, only Love is existing really.
Beyond belief is the certainty of the dead who are living;
Beyond custom is the Beloved's consummate love giving.
Beyond precept and prayer is the pearl-piercing perception,
Of the love worshippers whose early morning recitation,
Is a love incantation, applauded in the galaxy-transcending
Chamber of the heart, by souls there perpetually residing.


If it is intended by that Will that all are subject to,
To bring you to a place where knowledge you accrue,

Or to a place where spirit and matter become one,
Or where your eyes shine brighter than a sun;

Then that Will will bring in to being what you need,
And without you realising will ensure you succeed.

Failures will become retrospective triumphs easily,
And that which that Will intends will come to be.

If the question of effort arises in your doubting mind,
Effort is what you get from that Will, you will find;

For effort is a name for will and that Will, will will,
The effort required; and accept that Will you will


Where were you, child of a most lovely mood,
Away from us life’s game you may have played;
And on that chequered board may have moved;
But now you come to see if the beloved approved.

To the Mango

You came in my mind but your body didn’t follow,
Until you arrive all I can do is to eat my sorrow!
The flavour of you will fill the hollow in my heart,
And only soft flesh will remain for me to swallow.

Hidden Beauty

Hid in every kind of form see that one’s beauty;
Only to the eye of self does anything seem ugly.
When the beloved glances at weeds, however briefly,
A bouquet of choicest flowers they appear to be.
The sleep of ignorance departs, and eye’s see truly,
When like a baby with wide-eyed wonder we see.

If I Didn't Know

If I didn’t know that in drudgery or boredom You can be found,
I’d have missed many blessings – many a secret, profound.
If you hadn’t shown me how doing nothing can lead to You,
Or how the weight of work can suppress the mischief of ego,
Or how if sitting in company with nothing of interest to say,
One can yet find You, if one looks for You in the right way;-
I would have thought all these things were just a hindrance,
And my vain ‘spirituality’ would have led me a sorry dance.


Come cute little microphone, lets have a little love affair,
You sit on my lapel, and I’ll pretend you are not there.
Oh yes I feel your unblinking look, as I tenderly unhook you,
But what I tell to you, you tell to too many others too.

The Sun Seen through Clouds

High, light-suffused white clouds. Sunlight so penetrating,
So intense, that it is vapour burning. Cloud, a light-containing
Mist? No! It is light diffusing? A display almost too bright,
For the eye, but in its midst the concentrated source of light,
Is too bright for that organ; almost brain burning in intensity.
The sun – such a short word for a manifestation of divinity -
Makes the brilliance of that silver light of the clouds seem
Almost grey today.  Light within light you could say, a dream-
Dissipating  display, that makes you turn your head away,
But draws you back too. Diamond bright, set in a white-gold ring,
Illuminating the utter dark of non-existence, turning it to blue.
What a palette the Artist has, and in that sun what an eye too.

In like fashion we see the Will of God, all pervading, penetrating.
Mediating, like the cloud, we see the Will of heaven is conveying,
To souls concealed within the human clay, the business of the day;
More nuanced, as they say, but more bearable to the hapless clay.

It is high summer, carefree days to treasure, outer and inner,
The intensity of love within hearts is diffused in happy leisure,
In love affairs, in gatherings for pleasure, in walks, on beaches,
Visits to churches, country mansions, reading, hearing speeches.
Tending gardens, picking fruit, eating or even simply lounging.
Like a sun midst cloud, love, the mist of being is illuminating.

And you, the beauty of your personality likewise pervades too,
The flesh, blood and bone of the body; it comes shining through.
Life is manifest in living, as generosity is manifest in giving,
Superiority in forgiving. In humility grandeur you are showing.
By loose white shirt or pale-blue cotton dress, is expressed,
The beauty of your form. In kind deeds the mind is dressed.

An Invitation to Lose Your Head

Ah though that beauty has left me an impression on a screen,
With companionship now that would-be lover became too mean.
The eye of attention has wandered into greener seeming meadows,
Lovely one, do you prefer to be there amongst deepening shadows?
Walk again with me on the daily-washed, sun-bleached, beach of life,
Come where the sunlight sets the waves afire, let go of daily strife.
Cut off the head of self and the limitations the rough shell imposes,
For when that head has rolled off there is more than one supposes.
First imagination and then inward vision reveal vistas newly created;
And moment by moment bloom fresh sweet-scented roses, unlimited.
Each a galaxy spanning universe ready to open out for you to explore.
Linger awhile of course, you can’t avoid it, then look for yet more.
The generous gardener it is who is showering roses on you freely,
Kiss the hand and hear him say, “So glad you came here to see me”.

Aug 31st 2014

Leave me to Love

Weary, life-denying thoughts, half submerged – depart!
Leave me to practice living and perfecting that fine art.

Leave me to love, and life building, and to giving birth,
To transforming into fine constructions this raw earth.

Greed, lust, anger, fear, sloth and worse, I happily take,
From them, mansions of light for the lovers I will make.

Even hate, shame, and guilt I will gather as required,
Base metals that the fire of love can shape as desired.

For on the day that the beloved chooses to enter in,
Into glamorous decorations will be turned every sin.

If the secret of this my intention is not from you hid,
Come and learn to live as before you never really did.


In the Beloveds anger there is a love that’s profound,
In the Beloved’s kindness, some hardness can be found.
In the kiss of love, death is found; in the death blow - love,
Between the Mercy and the Wrath of God from above,
Seek with sincerity the way to pass, and the way to live.
To the unity beyond this duality - O guidance to us give.
Complementary are the qualities that make possible life,
Embrace them both within and be free from foolish strife.

Narrow the Way

Vast is the field of all we call human activity,
This universe too has such seeming immensity;
In the originating sphere of Divine activity,
All this size is reduced to a mere relativity.

Between the two, however, there is a way to go,
No wider than an umbilical cord, so narrow.

It has been called the door of absolute unity,
Where many become one; such a singular entry.
Like a heavenly kiss, the sole point of contact, only,
Whence flows the Divine into our fragile humanity.

oct 28th 2014

Hafiz's Heart

Being here, inside the heart of Hafiz, can there be any surprise,
If from every side mystic thought in rhyme continues to arise.
The walls of this great palace are alive; a well constructed song!
Inside, deep rivers of red wine, shining, bliss-full, glide along.
And dark-eyed, long-haired, beauties stand in lines, many deep,
With musicians fine enough to make all those beauties weep.
Inside the high dome, stars look down with knowing winks,
While from finely formed vessels deeply my eye drinks,
Beyond all this there is a true man, the ruby, metaphorically,
One with whom lies the wisdom of Love's deepest mystery.
O Hafiz see the many black books this beggar has written,
Since to the wilderness of Love, Zahuri’s little life was given.

The Lover's Defence

The state of 'rend' is one the pious cannot comprehend,
Though thought police those drunks try to apprehend.

Even if five times a day they draw back a little from it,
They stain the prayer carpet with wine even as they sit.

To one who has no knowledge of it one cannot explain,
How it is when with the Beloved the lover has once lain.

Come cease your criticism and be resigned at last,
Would you really like to have someone break their fast.

The wise say it is better from this world to stay away,
so, don’t carp but for your own enlightenment pray.


You are the honey in the honey trap that got eaten quietly,
The trap remained intact, but honey, where is the honey?

beloved came so quietly and with such deft skill,
Took the honey without tripping the trap; its intact still.

Only by the twinkle in its eye could you ever tell,
The cat purloined the cream and got away as well.

The pearl has gone, the shell is empty now, is it not?
But the necklace on the
beloved a little longer has got.

Hanging round the
beloved's neck many souls you will see,
A trail of corpses litter the road - beasts all killed by beauty.

Heart to Heart

To the naked eye the rooms seems ordinary enough,
But this home is dressed in you, strangely enough.

This address is your heart, somehow it seems,
Can you see me moving about it in your dreams.

There is a way between heart and heart the sage said,
Can you sense me living in your heart and head.

Vast it is, the human heart, when you enter,
Tier upon tier without periphery or centre.

If I dance inside your heart or even sing,
I wonder if a smile to your face will it bring?

Will even your body feel inside it my movements ,
The way a mother feels a child move at moments?

Well, before I have to depart from your heart,
I'll water the plants; tidy a bit so it looks smart.

Its beautiful sitting here warmed by your love's fire,
Its a home within a home and has décor I admire.

So do not think I wont return, and very often,
May this thought the sadness of going soften.

Fajr (Dawn Prayer)

There is a time in the morning when talking to you,
Seems the right thing to do. Just comes naturally.
Then its easier to see
you and hear your words too.
Yes its true, the prayer of dawn is heard clearly.
What separates
you and me disappears, it seems,
And night dreams turn tail and scuttle away,
But thoughts of
you stay, whilst all my schemes,
And all other themes, concerning the day,
Dormant lay; between
your hands they are really,
Not just twenty four hours, but for the short breath,
(Inhaling and expiring once before infinity),
That we call a long life and a good death.

Stepping Stone

I was in a kind of confused malaise today,
All I could say, was, ‘Have you gone away?’
Business is busy outside, but my business is you.
There’s no life but life lived in you! What to do?
There is no love but the love coming from you!
Yours is the only door worth going through.
What has happened to yesterday’s ecstasy,
I can’t say; till your heart’s arms embrace me.
Your holding is not like any other; no, not so!
Inside and out unite, and together they flow.
Flow as, when you toss your head, your hair,
Tumbles with abundant abandon everywhere;
And in its wistful waves the soul and body goes,
Wherever the wind wishes, wherever it blows.
Abundant is your charm designed to disarm,
And although my heart beats fast with alarm,
I happily abandon all I thought was good and true.
Everything I would give up just to unite with you.
Only then do you show me beyond that ecstasy,
And what’s meant by life forever lived in you I see.


What’s this talk of sweetness with candy got to do
Sweetness gets its sweetness, sweet one from you.
What’s this talk of wine, when wine gets drunk on you,
You are the wine I drink and when I drink, I drink you.


Hey you sceptic get out of my heart,
You always try to belie love's way,
I guess you think you are very smart,
To sit there quietly and this love betray.

Traitor, thief of time, do you think I don't see,
You are trying to sabotage life's meaning!
To see what you would do I left you purposely,
Now be on your way, or stop your plotting.

This vast heart has room for love, and that's all,
For love has no limitation nor any boundary,
Depart and no more whisper to me; don’t stall,
With words from your half baked brand of piety


(the holy Qur'an makes many references to mountains as holding the
earth in place).

Here is a thought – those mountains that hold the earth so firmly,
Is it to holy ones, holy writ is referring? Towering they are.
From them, bubbling like melted mountain snow, flowing freely,
Come blessings; and compassion as pure as light from a star.

Say No

Say no to the sticky sweets of sentimentality,
Say yes to fine sentiments, spoken sincerely.
Say no to routine words that have no flavour
Of gratitude for God's grace and endless favour,

Say yes to heart-touching words, giving shelter,
Say no to weasel words written only on water,
Say yes to words crackling with celestial fire,
That, with love's essence, heart and soul inspire.

Say no to a life that has no taste of ecstasy,
Say yes to the death of selfish egocentricity.
Say no to the idol of this foolish fantasising,
For the reality of a life of love it is preventing.

Say no to sleeping through your allotted years,
Say yes to waking to the wisdom of the Pirs,
Say no to negativity and also to any doubt,
That it is love and love alone that our life is about.

March 21st


Guardians of the garden; those leafy trees - upright normally,
Dance, entranced, like lascivious beauties, when
your look they see.
Many brooms, brushing, like lover’s eyelashes, the entrance hall,
When the wild wind announced, with bluster,
you are about to call.
In the excitement of anticipation the flowers are in a flurry,
Your coming they have been waiting for, but now they’re in a hurry.
Is this not how it was when the Lord of Mysteries got the call?  
Incited to ‘Recite, Recite, Recite!’; souls were in a fluster,
Not a whisper of resistance could their natures try to muster,
When they discovered, at last, who was to be their real master.
For mankind a great boon, for man’s enemy – a disaster.
Lovers you made of so many souls, they all fell headlong for you,
They could no longer resist those words that rang so clear and true.

May 15

The Flow of Love

When the flow of love is there, it is there,
We become one and no longer just a pair,
Or a threesome or a crowd or a country,
No longer labourer divided from the gentry,
No longer a stranger, refused admission.
That for which all humanity has long striven,
Arrived as a gift and a gift not to be denied.
There is no cause for pride in a gift received,
Only for gratitude and feeling relieved.
No more concerned with hardship or ease,
The one who has love is an easy one to please.


Those sweet lips of yours smiled inside me,
Literally you kissed my heart.

Those soulful eyes of yours, in my memory,
Stay, and simply won't depart.

Of many sins I am certainly just as guilty,
As love is, of tearing me apart.

But for sins there is the hope of mercy,
I see no cure for a love sick heart.

Worry, Doubt  and Diffidence

O Worry, you plough my brow into furrows!
O Doubt, your little darts and longer arrows,
Puncture my hopes for a better tomorrow,
And make each today - dry, dull and narrow.

O Diffidence, your dithering is decidedly,
The death of a kind, carefree, and happy me.
You guys – are a pain in the neck actually,
Yes, metaphorically but also physically.

Fortunately, I have a friend who will know,
How to make you melt, like winter snow,
In the spring sun's all embracing glow;
A Moses who will say, “Let my friend go!”

Who will wreak on your trickery, destruction,
With the dragon fire of eternal satisfaction.
Who will show in every present little action,
Its truth, yes its timeless divine implication:

Who will shoot an arrow straight and true,
That all three darknesses will pass through -
To strike the heart – and if the heart it hurts too,
Its the pain of love - life for me; death for you.

For Ramadan 2015

The one who seeks by the One God to be fed,
To this great fortune how have they been led?
This one knows fasting means feeding, inside,
This one by the One God was given a guide.

Love Drunk

There is sadness in me now that the storm has passed over,
I wait and wait but have yet to discover true love in any other..
On the edge claimants hover, and speak of what they would do,
But no one else it seems has the love power that I found in you.

Sometimes I ponder as to whether writing about love is wise;
(That I find it therapeutic though should not come as a surprise),
But then I strike a streak, a rich vein of gold in my heart’s mine,
And then it’s more than mere therapy, it’s talking to the Divine.

Love poetry is really just wine, heated up and bubbling over,
It puts an end to endless internal conversations, however,
And that is something! No way is that an incidental factor;
But the love-drunkard must hide; or else become an actor -

For with the drunk the sober have a constant bone of contention,
That leads to endless misunderstandings and at times, tension.
This much one could say; it better by far to be a drunken lover,
Than to be drunk on the pride of being wise and always sober.

With You I try divest myself of the apparel of false modesty,
Though Lord, a covering for my many sins may You ever be.
I know I am drunk on love poetry when I distinguish no longer,
Which line is from me and which line is your perfect answer.


Through the heat of a summer day, a cool river of rationality,
With well defined banks, more a canal I suppose in reality,
Silently and happily flowed; and I felt at ease with the way,
It ignored the flaming fields and from its course did not stray;
As if heaven, in answer to some kind of urgent plea, had sent,
A simple, clear, means to carry one out of the heart’s torment.
The world of study and work and focus on daily things to do,
Is needed by one whose heart wants to find its way to love You;
For Your love is full of hidden ferocity, and to reach Your city,
Life needs an abundance of - let’s call it, succinctly, clarity.
‘Love me little, but love me long’, was advice from beyond I got,
Thats the kind of advice that should never, not ever, be forgot.

Tell them...

Tell them a little of what they want to hear,
But season it with a little of what they fear.
Tell them of roses and sweet scented flowers,
Of the smile of the Pirs and shaded arbours;
But include hints of the hardships that precede,
Arriving at the happy place for which they plead.
Its a place of ease that is unimaginably good,
But the road there is through a deep, dark, wood.
Don’t horrify them altogether, with a scary story,
But don’t let them go off thinking it’s all too easy;
And leave the subtlest of hints that there is more.
The word ‘Manzil’ implies a destination for sure;
But also just a resting place, a kind of stop-over.
The final goal is not found in ‘near’ or ‘far’, O lover.

The Baleful Tree

On the borders of the unseen world is the tree of insanity,
Oh, so sad to get so close, and yet to stay beneath that tree.
Listen for God’s sake, indeed for the sake of becoming healthy,
To the one who says don’t go and sit under that baleful tree.
There is one thing you can do, if you arrive there willy-nilly,
Go back from that place to a space the mind finds more easy,
Wait there and pray for a guide who can take you beyond it
And with patience and persistence at that one’s feet just sit.


If you are reading this when beneath the earth I lie,
Consider as you are now, so once was I,
I had to do deals with the demands of my own clay,
And had to do it every single day.
So look kindly if you will on my remains, such as they are,
This destination for
you may not be far.
On the Mercy of my Maker I have had to lean heavily,
Fortunately there is none stronger than He.
If you brought no other flower than the rose of a loving heart,
I will take it that you mean well for your part;
And if the love of the Beloved encloses me now like a shirt,
You will be blessed from visiting this patch of dirt.  


There is a small corner in my heart,
Where is one who wants to impress;
To say – ‘Hey mum, look no hands,
Come on and applaud my success!”
But there is a corner where is another,
Who wishes deeply to share with you,
The things seen, and things done too.
Not to impress but just because love,
Before its consummated, needs two.


If you think from anything that I happen to write,
The idea that to claim to be a lover is my right;
Forget it, you have misunderstood what I say,
And from that thought I take immediate flight.

You Died

You died that day I suppose, who knows?
No! Not so! But you were taken from me;
As perhaps you had to be, who knows?
I found later that you did not die to me;
Much later this I came to really know,
That what I loved in you is still alive,
In my life’s essence, and will always be so.
No, not just as a shadow does it thrive,
Within this heart; it’s a palpable presence.
A thousand, thousand, attempted denials,
Are merely a million forms of pretence.
The great ones have suffered many trials,
For Truth; but it is undeniable, ultimately.
Truth killed off reason’s opposing fantasies;
For Truth is Truth, though explanations vary.
The Love I felt can hide, but not ever cease;
Or else Love has not the quality of eternity.
In the end it was Love, not you, that caught me,
But it’s because I found that Love through you,
You are still alive in me; believe it – it is true.

Physical Dimension

I learnt something today about ‘physical reality’,
It fulfils desires, yes, but their consummation,
Kills their power to inspire the heart’s activity.
Better to leave something to the imagination;
Something that will spur you to a higher reality:
Unless you are content with that destination.

I Am Not ........

I am not some sort of intellectual property,
Nor am I merely refined emotional sensitivity,
And I am certainly not the worship of the body!

I am not even the product of the spirit's activity,
Nor yet am I the intelligent soul's responsibility.

Even the Secret's special place does not constrain me,
And the deeply concealed faculty does not restrain me.

I am Love and from whatever you say I am free,
Your words have no real meaning at all to me.

As the actress to the cleric said, so invitingly,
Why don't you come up sometime and see me.

O Lord,

O Lord,
Make love our creed,
Make love our need,
And on the path of love
Us lead.

In people there is disappointment,
In love alone there is fulfilment,
Take from people what love you can
Give to people what love you can,
But from people have no expectation,
In love alone seek to find perfection.

Human love and hatred is mere emotion,
Divine love however is an eternal ocean,
Drown those feelings in that deep ocean,
Find truth and leave on the shore fiction

The difference between love and hating
Is that hate struggles before drowning,
Whilst love enters the ocean willingly,
Its path into those depths far more easy.

When the mind baulks at a perception,
Such as drowning in the watery ocean
Become the object that you fear
To be the ocean first become a tear.

Come On

Hey, come on, I want that lost love feeling,
That urgent desire, with You to be uniting.
Yes, I know it sounds like every popular love song,
So what, in that I don’t see anything that’s wrong.
Come on and set me alight with longing,
Remind me how to You I am belonging.
I don’t care if my expression lacks sophistication,
I need to pass on from the screen of imagination.
Don’t try to trap me here or try to be confusing,
Let me make it clear it’s You alone I’m wanting.
Union with You, whether in song or silence,
I crave, and I am fast running out of patience.
To wonder if this desire from you or me is coming,
Is sophistry, I have no time for such reasoning.
Dying for You is the only way I can find of living,
You wouldn’t be You if You were not forgiving.

Self Deception

Stop lying to yourself you stupid fool,
Did you learn nothing at all at school?
Did no one tell you that the deceiver,
Delights in fooling the poor unbeliever?
It’s not just a question of honesty,
It’s all about gaining deep sincerity;
That’s the tool you needs must sharpen,
To shape the short life you’ve been given.
Get out from under this world’s delusion,
Find a better way, a nobler life vision.
Don’t you know this life passes in a flash?
While it’s near to hand, grab the cash.
Make each moment count, each ‘now’,
For ‘now’ in truth is eternal anyhow.
But not the ‘now’ of a lazy animal, sensuality,
Excitement that only leaves one feeling guilty;
The ‘now’ that’s a tiny gap through which,
Flows the gold that makes you forever rich.
Be ready to give all you think you possess!
If the beloved asks it of you, just say “Yes”.
Really it’s all just temporarily rented,
A rose soon dies, however well scented.
If the things you tell yourself are fantasy,
Wake up and smell the coffee, of reality.


Something has fired me up suddenly,
It’s as if someone blew on the ember,
Of love, for life’s essence flared in me.
Suddenly I found I could remember -
That this is not just a day in September,
But a day that lasts with me forever;
As does every day, hour and minute.
It’s a holy day, for You have given it;
A holy hour, for You are integral to it;
A holy moment that I know You record;
(Then how should one ever be bored).
Of course I need the covering, O Lord -
Of your cloak of kindness and mercy,
For my nature is sinful and very lazy,
And the pious rightly call me crazy!
I could write the story of my days,
In a multitude of very different ways,
As the bard did with all those plays;
But however plausible each plot seems,
In a chamber of mirrors so many themes
Seem to be only the stuff of daydreams.
My very own, very personal Hollywood!
Who I am in reality; whether bad or good,
This by You alone can be truly understood.


Each distinct material fact has an essence that is its truth;
Each essence is united; one in being the essence of truth.
The essence of each and every essence we know as You
But You are the essence of essences and of materiality too.
In short all that language can ever aspire to,
Is to declare that there is nothing but You.

Humanity, in its essence, is therefore one too,
Service to humanity we can say is service to You.
And love of You is love of humanity's essence too,
The message, O man, and the messenger are not two.

The Tree of Love

Dreams swirled, visions whirled,
In the wind the flag we unfurled;
Raised loves banner over this our city,
Saying those who know not love we pity.

The tree that in eternal love is rooted,
Its fruits mostly in heaven are collected;
Though some fall to earth as a mercy,
For those who have the eyes to see.

Rise above those personal vendettas,
And write no more poisonous letters,
Take the refuge love offers generously,
Shelter beneath the glorious Masnevi tree,

Earthly passions and hatreds wither and die,
On this time bound universe we can't rely.
Trees of clay can be uprooted very easily,
But the tree of love lives on in eternity.


The many no path at all can see,
They are not aware of His Mercy.
For some the path of piety,
Is the sure way to His Mercy
A very few in the path of profligacy
Have found the Beloved's mercy
Rarer still are those who no path can see,
For they
are the path to His Mercy.

Murshid to Murid
(the first line is from Zahur Mian)

"Love me little but love me long",
Make your love pure and strong.
Perhaps, God willing, the day will come,
When the desire for unification will come,
Wisdom and well ingrained morality,
That desire will burn up - eventually.

I pray on that day for a higher intervention,
And that He give you a greater satisfaction.
And in the fire of love’s desire your 'self' will burn,
And God's approbation you will then discern.
Meanwhile, love me little but love me long.
Continue to make your love pure and strong.

Some short verses

They say that if you advertised it would pay!
We look at things differently, and so we say,
God is both hidden and evident, in His way,
We wait here for those whose hearts pray.
It is the work of a saint to bring about,
Changes to any selfish, lazy, oafish lout.
It requires one with a lot of spiritual clout,
One in whose mastery there is no doubt.
The horse that is full of self and pride,
Is surely a very difficult one to ride.
From the path it so often turns aside;
No surprise then if me you often chide.
When words only with tongue and lips we utter,
Spiritually it is little more than a kind of  'mutter';
But it is an altogether different kind of matter,
When it is heartfelt, warm words that we utter.
Read from the hidden auto cue that’s in the heart,
If you want to practice and perfect the fine art,
Of saying what is appropriate for your own part,
In the play staged in the theatre of man’s heart.


There is a fine rain falling from heavens constantly,
The rain of God's Mercy that the clay eye can't see;
Sometimes He gives it substance in the rain we know,
That washes away the dust we raised inadvertently.


A man's desire for a woman can be,
Seeking the divine in femininity;
Or the way to a licensed animality.
Between the two lies the discovery,
Of the nature of his own humanity.

Absorbing Thought

The idea of souls sitting on a cloud is a cause for levity,
The stuff of childhood dreams, so it must be imaginary.
About this absorbing thought I could say a whole lot more,
But my sleepy friends, above the earth can your soul soar?


Food comes with energy for the body,
Sleep comes and refreshes the psyche;
If your fed and rested its time for work,
Believer, the duty of labour do not shirk.

Truth seeks you out to keep you company,
Destroys the enemy inside however prickly.
Love comes now and surrounds you quietly,
Lover do not refrain but surrender quickly.

Now love is your food, and faith your drink,
So do what love demands, don’t even blink.
Nor pause to think, even for a moment,
Though love is both joy and a torment.

When you are full and rested in love's company,
Then your work is whatever love may decree.

Some Love Thoughts

If there is a gap, a space intervening between us two
Into that void let us each dive without any hesitation.
Isn't that the very thing that would be lovers do,
How should Love need any further explanation.

Eternal Love will triumph in the end – for it has to,
Transient love or other feelings pass, they must do,
But not the Love whose nature is absolute divinity
That comes to us in the smile of His eternal mercy.

Thoughts that come to me about love and its ways,
Have very little originality and even less novelty,
And I am glad it is like this and their author praise,
For it suggests that they were written in pre-eternity.


“There is nothing to do!” is a thought that we must slay,
It is forgetfulness that life is precious and slipping away.
If ordinary duties are done then it is a fine chance to pray,
Or to pursue the path to His pleasure in some other way.
To beat the big beast of boredom requires great skill I say;
Listen to the heart at least, so that this life you don't betray.
The aim is not to totally destroy the brute but to make it obey,
For like every other undesirable feeling it has its part to play.
Anger, lust, greed, envy, fear and so on, we don't have to slay,
To find the pearl of divine purpose in their existence is the way.
A dragon guards each pearl, so this is not merely child's play.
Conquest of boredom's kingdom is part of purifying our clay,
“What can one do in paradise?” is what some deluded folk say,
“It must be boring once the initial pleasure has passed away”.
But paradise is when with boredom, as with a pet, we can play.

Counting Blessings

There was a time when, merely for amusement,
I counted the poems that to me you had sent.
They are so many now, it requires much labour,
But your blessings it is impossible to number.


Jamil if it is His beauty that you really seek,
in every kind of beautiful one His beauty seek
In the beauty of one endowed with a kind disposition,
In the beauty of humility, in the beauty of fashion,
In the kind look of an elder who deserves veneration,
In the beauty of eyes that are full of compassion,
In the beauty of a full moon or a rose that’s blooming,
In the beauty of a face that with fresh youth is glowing.
In the beauty of a child's overpowering innocence,
In the beauty of one full of forbearing and tolerance,
In the beauty of one who endures happily suffering,
In the beauty of one endowed with perfect femininity,
In the beauty of one graced with strong masculinity,
In the beauty of an artefact wrought with loving care,
In the beauty a natural scene that happens to be there.
In the beauty of one with a frankly seductive look,
In the beauty of a well written well presented book ,.
In the beauty of movement that the dancer displayed,
In the beauty of the rhythmic sounds the musician played.
In the beauty of language that moved to tears,
In the beauty of courage that overcomes fears.
In the beauty of an animal's grace in movement,
In the beauty of one living happily in the moment.
Eternally and entirely beautiful is His divine face,
In every form of beauty seek to find there His trace.


Want to get a sense of what we mean by reality?
Stand in the chamber of a trillion mirrors and see,
How every action you make is reflected endlessly,
Though each mirror has its own singular quality,
What they reflect depends on your actions only.
You and the mirrors are real; is the rest illusory?

Love Travel

The love in your eyes carried me many a mile,
I journeyed further with the joy in your smile,
But it was with the song you sang in my ear,
That finally I arrived and found myself - here.


Adulation is a potent poison I think,
One full of self should not drink;
But for one who knows Your secret ways,
It is nothing but a funny fizzy drink.


Love is a state of mind and heart, be aware,
When we have love we can be anywhere,
Whosoever we are with, wherever we are,
Love is there, love is there, love is there.


Fireworks first fizzle, flare up then fade,
To ignite and excite sight they are made.
In the heart all the seeker wants to see,
Is a single candle shining, unblinkingly.

Soothing Love

Love sooths the wrinkled brow, full of worry,
Love calms footsteps far too full of hurry,
Conflict in the heart it eliminates quietly,
It gives the patience that ensures victory.

That Look

The look in your eyes, it came as a surprise,
A vast ocean, yes, but also a ruby red sunrise,
Turned into liquid fire were the seven oceans;
A fiery grave for thought and all those notions.
Take Us

Beloved take us from the land of ignorance and bluster,
To a fair island filled with light, tinted with divine lustre.
Where all that shines is turned to gold, by your alchemy.
Where you are present in all we do or we happen to see.
Where the pain and suffering and injustices of the past,
You turn into light and love, and we say – ‘Alast*, at Last!’.
A place where what we eat is what we most delight in,
A place where is forgiven every misdemeanour or sin.
Where good manners require only that we let love in,
A place where to truly live, within You, we can begin.
And if that destination is not to be reached by us today,
Give us the patience to keep going towards it, we pray.

Alast - The moment before time began when Allah said to the eternal
souls - 'Am I not your Lord?' to which they replied - Yes!  It is said that the
memory of this moment is the root of the experience of Sama of the Sufis.)

A Little Bitter

A little bitterness you sent to me but I don’t mind,
For it sets off the sweetness that everywhere I find.
Come that glass fortress you have built in your mind,
Will crumble and crack as your life starts to unwind.
The stones you threw which you thought to aim at me,
Were thrown from inside your fragile house, sadly.

Another Witty Ditty

The capacity of this pretty little city,
To produce a ditty that is truly witty,
Is limited only by the need for time,
To find wise words that also rhyme.

Windy Weather

Here, on the ground, the wind comes rough and ready,
Keen as a soldier’s blade cutting through the enemy.
But for clouds in wintry grey skies overhead it moves
Thee way a gentle lover does, with a tender urgency.

For Farhana

Bringing happiness to a crusty old grump like me,
Over so many years cannot have been very easy.
The dirt on the roads in this impoverished country,
You cleaned with great determination, thoroughly.

Sleep came and wanted to lay with me today,
There was no way that I could send it away.
So I took it as a lover, it would allow no delay.
Will it prove faithful? Who on earth can say?


Love came my way today,
That is to say,
Though it had never gone away,
Love showed itself today.
In the same way,
Clouds make the day seem grey,
But the sun does not go away,

The Nature of Man

The nature of man is to make many demands,
But when something his own nobility commands,
He is gone – suddenly absent, nowhere to be seen.
And if you were ask him where it is he has been,
He would surely talk of some more pressing needs.
But all the while with pain his poor heart bleeds.

Fiercely Burned

A new day dawned and love more fiercely burned,
In an ocean sunrise the sea of my heart surged
This rock turned again and love more fiercely burned.
In an ocean sunset my tears to blood were turned
You spurned me again, so love more fiercely burned.
From a sympathetic moon a subtle secret I learned
I yearned because your love for me fiercely burned.

The Muse Inside

The muse inside is dying to come out,
If held back she only starts to shout.
“What’s all this noise about”, I ask firmly,
My muse replies “Why do you ignore me?”
“I’ve been so busy!” is the excuse I mutter,
“Too busy to write the words that matter,
Words that I utter!”  My muse protests,
A trifle testily, (or is it that she only jests?)
“Well if you will just keep your cool,
I will become again your obedient tool,
Love’s fool” I reply, “So have your say,
I am all yours henceforth from this day,
Come what may!” “That’s much better,
That is more like the kind of love letter,  
I wanted to deliver”, my muse says coyly,
Just send me a hard copy, she adds slyly.

The Lover's Art

Fan the fire of love in your heart,
That is the lover's necessary art,
That alone will bring love to fruition,
The rest is decoration and addition.


Its not your words but the silent sighing,
In your voice, that has my head turning.
Its not your elegant manners that inspire,
Its sensing your heart burning in love's fire.
Its not the talk of ‘this or that’ that matters,
Sincerity moves me not words, sounds or letters.
Its your crying, because of your heart breaking,
That draws me from indifference to loving.


You fool, all that wisdom you had where has it gone?
You built narratives founded on lies and self deception,
With false notions you covered your God-given beauty.
Behind brittle walls of phony indignation and utter falsity,
You retired to hide from me, but I am not fooled that easily,
I will huff and puff, like the wolf in the fable, vigorously.
So that finally exposed will be the lies you try to sell,
To yourself and to me; and I find the pearl in the shell.

In Love with Love

Could it be that I am in love with love,
And this is not a tale of you and of me?
That you also are only in love with love,
And that is the nature of our journey.
The constant companion is only love,
Whoever the lover or beloved may be.

Let it Open

Let love grow and let the lover know,
That love has to be more than show.
See the rosebud of love start its opening,
Slow, sure and timely is its blooming.
Splendidly it manifests its fragile beauty,
And with its scent calls everyone to see.
This or that rose will fade and vanish,
But the eternal rose does not perish.
O Lord! That rose in the heart’s garden,
Let it open, let it open, let it open.    


Lover, at last impatience show,
So that the beloved will know,
That you will go to any length,
With all your inner strength,
With complete determination,
Regardless of the situation,
To meet and melt together,
Till there is one and no other

I Had Thought

I had thought that loving would be easier than this,
Only endless repeated moments taking me to bliss.
Oh dear, how much difficulty there is really though,
Like the hardship of reaping the small seeds you sow,
When they grow to a fully-fledged crop that’s waiting,
For the scythe to cut it down; only to begin wailing,
As the blade does the business that it been made for,
According to love’s divine nature and love’s own law.
They are waiting for me above to finish, yes its true!
Those Lords of Love who, before me, passed through,
The portal; they wait for my work to be completed fully,
O, I long to know how they will greet and embrace me.
There is a bond that binds those who travel on this way,
How should I not feel impatient to hear what they say


One single point of entry there is to You,
Just that one door we have to pass through
Beyond it so many universes that are, all You.
An infinity of dimensions, so many level too.
Wonder upon wonder, so many cannot reach,
That neither books nor words can ever teach.
A million, million, metaphors to us You send,
But to Your love and power we can see no end.
That love-drunk lovers seem so crazy is only right,
In this dark world they are walking in Your light.

How is Your Love Today?

“How is your love today?” That’s a better thing to say,
Than the half empty words of, “How are you today?”
Let your love be deep, strong, long, and very true,
Should anything else really matter much to you?

The Breath

The breath of lover and beloved unite, in sleep and waking,
All their dreams and their daily thoughts love is invading.
The lover’s head on the beloved’s chest falls and rises again.
Waves of love swell and fall, the ocean forever will remain

Short Poem

Here a kind of love poem for you
That's really not too long!
Sometimes with only a word or two,
We have to get along.

When Love...

When love surfaces, ripples rise and spread far,
Even on distant shores they know what they are.
From the deep, dark, still, pool of non-existence,
Emerges a sound as loud and as clear as silence.
Listen well to what that sound is really conveying!
In one dimension it seems Salaams it is giving.
In another it may sound just like a lover crying,
Or wind in the woods with the trees softly sighing.
In another, like a gentle old man, silver hair flowing,
A book lover holding a rare find, gleefully gloating.
Or yet again it may be a football crowd chanting,
Or the sound of someone unseen steadily sawing.
When love surfaces, ripples rise and spread far,
Even on distant shores they know what they are.

Tree Study

A scholar counts the leaves on a tree,
And maps all the branches carefully.
A seeker on the mystic path tries to see,
The whole tree in its essential beauty.
The one gifted with God’s great bounty,
Becomes the tree of eternal verity.
The one going further, what of he?
They say that one is the reality of reality?
To speak of that one’s glory is a vanity,
That one is far beyond Zahuri’s poetry.

Shades of Grey

Just another grey dreary cloudy day, or so it seemed to me.
Suddenly the sun from behind that veil turned it to a symphony,
Such variety in a single hue; in grey! Is it possible, such subtlety?
So many variations the Divine musician plays in just one key!
A song of sympathy; so many soft overlays He has laid on,
Virgin bright colours would seem raucous by comparison.
I didn’t linger long looking at that consummate display of art,
But as a reminder of His skill it stayed somehow in my heart


Thoughts of spring drift like the falling leaves of autumn,
Into my head; and into my heart clear new images come,
Of vernal love, of longing, of fresh, green, grass cradling,
Youthful dreams of a better life and a better way of living.
I catch all that I can of those imaginings and that aspiration,
Till this hoary head overflows with delight; and determination,
That this spring will live in my heart in every outward season,
The permanent union of pure Love and the highest Reason.

O Khwaja,

O Khwaja,
Dawn came, and then you came,
You opened the gate: morning came.
Morning came, and then love came.
All was as it was, all was the same,
But then you came and love came.
Now nothing will ever be the same,
Only because you with your love came.
Whether early or late it’s the same,
What matters is only that you came;
In love’s name you came, you came!
I took leave of my own name and shame,
When with love you came, you came!
O Khwaja because of your holy name,
It’s marvellous, the way love came.

The Garden

The velvet curtains parted, almost at a touch, willingly,
Sunlight and sight of the garden streamed in joyfully.
My vision walked amidst that sun-soaked flaming flora,
In every sense, drinking in, scent and rich ripe colour.
That perfect paradise was not enough to last forever,
But say, in such a place how should I not want to linger?

Feel the joy a heart has when it expands, not as a pair,
But within the beloved’s heart, finding no limit there.

Centre and periphery alike grow, a new dimension appears,
A magnificent home Love has, where live, the eternal Pirs.

O to the service of those Pirs, offer your very life,
For them accept whatever comes, of daily strife,

The very fabric of life they mould and shape, in their way,
To them the history of mankind is but a single day.

You won’t be looking for reward or you wouldn't get there,
But even so with their bounty nothing else can compare.

April 14

Good Greed

Greedy you have made me for you,
Greedy for your love songs too,
Heart and soul got together and agreed,
Greed is good, if it is greed for

The Passing of the Narcissus

Aristocratic overseer of winter’s end, and spring’s beginning,
Proud narcissus, like all power-holders, at last end up losing,
The golden crown, and with it, their very head and life is going,
Now only bright green spears stand guarding - nothing,

Just a forlorn stem; whilst all around idol-worshippers turn to see,
The rich red-brown rose leaves, already wine stained, so early.
Gathering energy, making preparation for summer’s wild party;
Lipstick and blushers busy, fluffing up hair, ready for their entry.

Whilst in the lower orders like fast encroaching blue water,
Forget-me-nots, and various other blues and purples gather,
Invade they will, but such goings-on the roses greet with laughter,
Blues trumpeters, whose sad notes only send the bees into a lather.

Pale the sun is, yet, and cool the air; but children’s laughter warms,
The ambience, and mother’s voices regain their winter-lost charms.
Rich grass, such a gift! It glows; and shows that it not only calms
The impatience of lovers, to feel the summer at last in their arms.

Without Touching

Without touching you touched my heart, that’s your subtle art,
Without looking your look penetrated deep and tore me apart,
Without speaking your words rose from the depths of my heart,
Without moving a muscle you made me from my self depart.

Without so much as a ‘by your leave‘ you made me love you,
Without a pause for thought on love’s path we travelled to,
Places unguessed at, spheres unheard of; but these you knew;
You opened so many unseen doors and ushered me through.

You gave me a simple bag but without any bottom I could see,
You laid gift, after gift, after gift inside seemingly endlessly,
You re-arranged heaven and many destinies just to suit me,
Many mouths 'thank God', but I have cause to say it sincerely.

When I paused for a moments reflection on your generosity,
I began to wonder, all these gifts but the giver, what of He?
Fearful beyond description there came a loud angry sound,
But when my feet finally found solid ground, You I found.

April 14

A Song of the Morning

Subtle, lazy, lingering kisses the sun gives to flowers in the vase,
This morning in the capital of love; sweet, poetry-filled Shiraz.
Stroking the rich oriental rug with such a gentle loving touch,
Nothing sensational - for the morning that would be too much.

There is a quiet empty feeling, though expectant of later daily duties,
But for now in the afterglow of the morning prayer, and its beauties,
Only passion-drained, peaceful, thought-free loving, with no loss or gain,
As if we are all only Hafiz thoughts that on the page could not remain.

Distant clouds, whatever they contain, wait patiently for their cue,
For now, there is nothing to do, just something to be. Just You.
The drum of remembrance in the deep must be steadily sounding,
Saying, ‘Lord its seems life is on hold, while You are pondering‘.

The River of Love

By what marvellous destiny was all this brought about,
The flooding of love’s river into the heart, and out?

Liquid light that flows and ebbs but then surges stronger,
That comes again and again but each time for longer.

That reaches into every corner every nook or crevice,
Till it overflows, pouring everywhere its liquid bliss.

Carrying the debris of  doubts and any diffidence
To the sea of certainty and eternal serene silence

Cleansing every part, pouring into every nearby heart,
That starts to flower and begins at last to take love’s part.

Flowing into every social strata, so the poor man’s crust,
Becomes the richest banquet, and charity replaces lust,

In the rich man’s heart: and kindness conquers hard
Calculation in the clerk, and fortune favours the ill-starred.

And war scarred warriors, pause and begin to heal,
And pleasure seekers for the plight of others start to feel.

Oh this love onwards flows but to where it goes,
We must wonder: whence it came must be the answer.

Where all the evils that it has conquered, it is depositing
As an offering to its source that’s unbegotten, unbegetting.

Now purged and perfect in their praise of love’s powers,
Inhabitants forever of love’s flower covered bowers.

The Prayer of Rising in the Morning.

Wake with the thought of love like a true love-drunk lover,
Chase away all other thoughts, and every lingering hangover,
Make the morning prayer in the heart, to sit at  love’s door,
Be the empty cup so that into it the eternal  Saki,  love,  may pour.

Make love the early morning ablution  and more over, lover,
The prayer carpet,  prostration , and confession; or whatever,
Your particular religion demands, be not content until,
Every corner of the heart and mind love alone does fill.

Make love more essential then the chore, that cant be ignored.
What though things you do or say seem human and flawed,
Love turns every kind of man-made error and imperfection,
Into an appreciation of the eternal, timeless perfection.

And if, for a moment, love you don’t feel, then kneel in the heart,
And beg, pray and earnestly implore; don’t relent or depart,
Until love turns to you again and bids your heart to rise,
For love is the competition, the daily fight, and the prize.

If you find fears lingering that this love is all craziness,
Ask love to bless that fear, (while for the day you dress),
And keep on with cultivating the constant company,
Of love, in all you hear, do, think, feel, plan for, or see.

For the real fear is that at life’s end you might have to say,
I didn’t  love as much, or as long, or as well every day,
As I should have, could have, or would have liked to do,
So do it, while divine breath you have, in the body, so to do.

And as you head for the door to catch that bus, train or plane,
Do not let all this business bother you, let your heart in love remain.
You depart, (as you did when God breathed Himself into your clay),
You will return God willing at the end of another extra-ordinary day.

Fidelity in Love

Wise words, well written, work well, when well read,
A crust well earned is tastier than free fresh bread,
But when it comes to love what good is such reason,
Its law is simple, not to love amounts to treason.
When the beloved turns to you with an inviting look,
O lover, put down that book, put down that book

My Heart You Broke

My heart you broke and then thousands of delights gave me,
My heart you broke and then to love you chose to wed me.

My life you asked for and then life in you, you gave me,
I never expected so much love to feel, or such beauty to see.

I used to walk into lampposts; now they light the way for me,
I went through red lights, now the end of the tunnel I see.

I fled from fame: now fame is hunting everywhere for me,
From intelligence and skill I departed, now they haunt me.

What did I ever lose that a better was not returned to me,
You locked me away but only to show the way to liberty.

I thought I had choices, I have now, you I choose willingly,
I heard voices but now it is you and you talk so lovingly.

I thought that to trust meant following someone blindly,
Now I know its sensing you, and doing what you tell me.

That the sum of this life Jamil adds up to nothing, is likely,
Know now, that, this ‘nothing’ amounts to a life in eternity.


Enterprises come, they stay a while, and go,
Even the enterprise of life itself acts just so;
Keep in mind the importance of being kind,
It lasts, but everything else is merely a show.

Your Face

I looked into the deep sky and saw stars where it seemed there were none,
I sought you in my heart, and there stars shone, and then there were none;
Your face! But without features, or face, still a smile you were showing,
Saw eyes, but not eyes, the light of the sun! Hair, but not hair - life  flowing.
Saw a book, but not a book - a summer’s day, light flickering in a shady brook,
Saw a rose, but not a rose - an unfolding heart. Your face is everywhere I look.


Love, couldn't you be just a little more constant, please,
Not constantly coming and going, as if intending to tease.
Couldn’t you sort of linger for longer, in fact, forever?
So I would know, if I slept, you would be waiting there.

Come to Stay

You enter my heart like there is no restriction of any kind,
I look inside and there, sat drinking my wine, you I find.
Ok I must accept the inevitable love has come to stay,
So I guess you will always be there in my mind, like today.

Pet Theme

O tie up the dog of rationality, outside the house it can stay,
For the cat of affection is sat comfortably on my lap today.
You know you can’t beat a dog for devotion and loyalty,
But for contentment the purring of a cat has much to say.

The Party

On the step leading to your door, I sat to wait,
In the hope that, to see you, it was not too late;
Drunk guests inside wondered at this humility,
And why I just didn’t go on in, and join the party.

That there is a welcome waiting inside, this I know,
But all these sins cling on, and they won’t let me go;
Still, in hope, I wait; hearing the party in full swing,
Maybe you will send to me just a little something.

A friendly guest of yours came right to the door,
And asked, exactly what it was I was waiting for.
He wanted to know why I didn’t join them inside;
I explained about the sins, holding me

“What sins?” he asked, so I turned and pointed;
But saw only lovely attendants, well appointed.
“Better come in,” he said, “They've started dancing,
And the finest ruby wine of our host is flowing;
Wouldn’t want all these lovely one’s getting cold.”
Above the marble door, carved in letters of gold,
I saw words that said, “Mercy lives here, enter freely,
You got here somehow, so come in now and see me!”

One Moment

That heavenly beloved looked my way, for just one moment,
Maybe sensing love’s scent, or the happy heart’s movement;
Maybe that beauty just casually turned in my direction,
But how is it, it lasts forever, one single life-giving moment

Words for a Journey

Go on your journey you must, but do not depart from my heart!
Your eyes may see what you will, but from my heart don’t depart.
The views that charm you are really within my heart’s arm reach,
Did I not teach you this with my eye’s silent, passionate speech.
Feel the grip of my love, on this trip, do not forget love’s worship,
Is the heart’s recall of love’s kiss, and the taste of the
beloved’s lip.

Hard it Was

Hard it was getting here, and coming through the door,
Ah but to see you sitting there, cross legged on the floor!
Hard it was finding the way, but worth it to be here,
The wine of your smile melts into spring, winter’s fear.

Hard it was; the road, seemed long at the time.
Rough the conditions, and so steep the climb.
Hard it was finding the way, but worth it to be here,
Your embrace removes every trace, every tear.

Hard it was, wondering how you would greet,
This dishevelled traveller seeking to kiss your feet.
Hard it was finding the way, but worth it to be here;
Your love overwhelms this heart, now I am near.

Hard it was getting here, and coming through the door,
Ah, but to see you sitting there, cross legged on the floor!
Hard it was but it would have been much harder,
To have missed being here with you altogether.

Many Images

Many were the images and attractive too,
That were set before me on my way to you.
Many were the images, but the true desire,
That set my heart on fire, was really for you.

Mevlana's Wedding Party

When we pray to God in company,
Something very worthy I can see,
Due respect for the rights of piety,
And love of the holy Prophet I see.

When my friends are dancing wildly
Much pleasure in them also I see,
When eyes shine so very brightly,
Is it reflections of that sun that I see?

When the musicians play so loudly,
And affection on their faces I see,
They rouse the spirit from dormancy,
And Love’s purpose in all this I see.

For when departing from that party,
No more reserve or diffidence I see,
The affectionate hugs show a unity,
And in this the work of Mevlana I see.

The Way of Love

I was in a kind of confused malaise today,
All I could say, was, ‘Have you gone away?’

Business is busy outside, but my business is you.
There’s no life but life lived in you! What to do?

There is no love but the love coming from you!
Yours is the only door worth going through.

What has happened to yesterday’s ecstasy,
I couldn't say; till your heart’s arms embrace me.

Your holding is like any other? No, its not so,
Inside and out unite, and together they flow.

Flow, as, when you toss your head, your hair,
Tumbles with abandon everywhere;

And in its wistful waves the soul and body goes,
Wherever the wind wishes, wherever it blows.

Abundant are your charms, designed to disarm,
And although my heart beats fast with alarm,

I happily abandon all I thought was good and true.
Everything I would give up, just to unite with you.

Only then do you show me whats beyond ecstasy;
And what’s meant by life forever lived in you I see.

Sweet Wine

What’s this talk of sweetness with candy got to do
Sweetness gets its sweetness, sweet one, from you.
Whats this talk of wine, when wine gets drunk on you,
You are the wine I drink and when I drink, I drink

Time and Time Again

Time and time again my need returned
Time and time again my greed returned,
Time and time again you freed and fed me
Time and time again in you I found safety
In your face unimaginable beauty I see,
In your love there is life abundant for me.


O rose you burst into bloom and what a display,
How flagrantly you reveal your charms today.
Your fragrance invades every nose, even the wary,
You pass through the veils of a sleepy conformity,
And declare: "This beauty is for you, only for you,"
What though so many worship you as they do,  
And the rational mind knows this; this we know.
You seize our heart and out from reason we go,
And into your shameless glory our pride goes.
The jewel of our life, our heart on you bestows.

Apple Pie

I made an apple pie and it is the apple of my eye!
Here’s a poser, can one pen a poem on an apple pie?
Well in my opinion the question simply does not apply,
If you're pie-eyed* the apple pie the poetry will supply.

*pie-eyed = drunk

An Image

Your image is nothing whilst you are not in it,
No love, or yearning feeling can I get from it.
The passion provoking matinée idol, their photo,
Serves to cover the hole in a drafty old window.
But when
your look of love the breeze blows to me,
A paper fragment with an eyebrow brings ecstasy.


When you came this dawn, love showering,
Bestowing another kiss in the early morning;
You expressed it like this, - "Love is universal gravity,
Not a single planet, or system, or some place to be.
But a constant unwavering attraction, pulling us in."
Futile, but required, is all the struggling and trying,
Yet in our mind harder it seems to just give in,
And be drawn into the ease of sweet surrendering.
Then with ease turn your attention more eagerly,
To the Conqueror of mind, heart and even body.

To Be Not Being

The noble bard asks 'To be or not be?'
What a marvellous mystic intuition had he.
Is it wiser to be this mind, heart and body,
Or into non-being take the mind bravely
(Though do not mistakenly take the body.)
And in 'not being' seek the hidden mystery,
Of that one all-embracing, absolute, Reality.

Your Image

Your image on the screen, in the heart and in the mind,
Intoxicates this drunken world-weary, thirsty eye I find.
But when
your love is cool or distant in some other way,
It appears to me as nothing, but just cold, dull, and grey.
Like the corpse of that so much loved one who has died,
To seek that one in bones and flesh, have you ever tried?
But when
your love I feel flowing towards me in the heart,
Neither time nor space, nor even death, can keep us apart.


Before sleep, before rising, before eating,
The lover lingers - for what is the lover waiting?
For the smile of the
beloved felt in the heart,
This is the lover’s religion and the heart’s art.


You want to feel the rising of the sun in the heart?
Well to find the place where love resides is a start.
The sun is not selective on whom its rays will fall,
Just be there to feel its warmth,that alone is your part.

So many promissory notes you showered freely on me,
(Knee deep, waist deep, shoulder deep, drowning me).
Of love that would never count the cost you told,
I see the notes, so now please show to me the gold .

The double helix was twisted - so much fun it was to fix it,
O lord, after all, are these the words of one who really did it?
Became a real lover, not just a generous word giver;
One who can give and take love in brain, heart and liver.


March marches on in the garden! Lord will it deliver,
The promised gold-plated banquet, framed in silver,
And turn the wilderness into a victory parade in heaven.
“Depends on weather?” Lord from this state me deliver.
Behind a cloud is hidden that love giver and receiver,
That tavern is ready to receive gold, and the wine deliver.
Pause not long at the door in order to consider,
For this is the door known to every drunken lover.

Dogged Verse Making

Doggerel verse is alive and well,
As I hope from this you can tell.
This old dog has penned a fair few,
Yes with old fashioned rhymes too.

If poetry is a tree its just a twig I guess,
But if this twig God should chance to bless,
Its as likely to get you happy-drunk,
As a branch or even a great grand trunk.


The flowers of your kind thoughts are beauty sufficient,
Though they are not spoken but are as silent as scent.
The heart where they are grown, is a heart I know so well,
A garden I own and walk in to hear what those blooms tell.
Those buds open, when the sun rises in the heart,
From its generosity and the gardener’s fine art.


Nothing is lost and nothing is gained,
But, as it was, nothing forever remained.
Whatever it was it came and left again,
Your smile or frown came and changed,
But always Your face it’s beauty retained.

The Way

The lover’s constant crying,
The seeker’s soul searching,
Is trying in vain, endlessly,
To get or regain the reality,
The sanity, of the self dying,
And in union with you living.
One with you, one not two.
This is what they try to do;
The seekers by their searching.
The lovers by their crying,


The state of rend is one the pious cannot comprehend,
Though 'thought police' those drunks try to apprehend.

Even if five times a day they draw back a little from it,
They stain the prayer carpet with wine, even as they sit.

To one who has no knowledge of it one cannot explain,
How it is when with the beloved the lover has once lain.

Come cease your criticism and be resigned at last,
Would you really have someone break their fast.

The wise say it is better from this world to stay away,
So don’t carp but for your own enlightenment pray.

* Rend is the Farsi originated word for the mystic who abandons pious
behaviour, and remains intoxicated with the reality of God.

What Happened

What happened to the love song you sang so sweetly?
What happened to the bird’s nest love built so fondly?
From amongst your tears try to speak and tell me,
What happened to the days when wine flowed freely?

What happened to the love in your voice that I could hear?
What happened to sweet moments when we were near?
Close your eyes my lovely and try to remember clearly,
What happened to the script love wrote so perfectly?

Can it be its gone forever that feeling that we shared?
Can it be by time and circumstance love is impaired?
The fledgling love that our friendship had nurtured,
Can it be it  it flew away, that bird we had ensnared?

Can it be that love was just a kind of fickle fantasy?
Can it be that love would leave the wine glass empty?
No, though sometimes time shows us a cloudy mirror,
Can it be that the sun stops its endless generosity?


O to be in Shiraz when the dawn breeze arrives
Refreshing the soul, and the body that strives,
Lifting the spirit up in its gentle hands,
As away the dark night of sleep it drives.

What journey is worth making in the jungle of the mind,
That will not rouse some creatures of a beastly kind,
Try to pass them by as best you can, and tread lightly,
There is dawn’s light at the end of the night; inevitably.

Why has love fled the nest, so that you had to take to your bed?
Don’t you know its never far away, be cool calm and collected!
It will be back soon enough, just as soon as you reflect,
And take charge of the thoughts crowding into your head,

Of all the things that about me might be said,
Being wise or witty or even just well read;
The one I didn’t expect to hear from you,
Is that a good cloths rack I am, as you said.

Rise up

Rise up, come, on words of mystical integrity,
Rise up, I say, till we reach that hidden city,
Rise up, till we penetrate the heart where
Piety serves, for love is lord and master there.

Rise up to where young souls play around,
Rise up to that divinely veiled playground.
Rise further to where the true adults speak
Together of how to help the poor and weak.

Carried up on sounds so sonorous and so sweet,
Or on desire for love’s fulfilment, rise up I repeat.
Discover the divinity that never sleeps there
Where life, like real love, is not a casual affair.

Leave behind the beauty of art, music or poetry,
Though it served you well enough on the journey.
Rise so high that you reach right up to the place
Where your forehead on the ground leaves it trace.

March 21st 2015

Musing on the Beloved

My muse I did not invite, for quite some time,
The one so close, the inspirer of rhyme.
But I know, I know, my muse is always here,
Sitting silently, close to me, ready to appear.
Folk hear about the ‘beloved’ and imagine a body,
Or a face, or wearing some aspect of humanity.
To the reasoning mind that may well seem right,
But the ‘beloved’ is the heart that’s turned to light,
Each and every circumstance that light reveals,
Is the beloved’s face – or that is how it feels.

May 15

Mehfil - i - Rindan

That beauty that sings for us so sweetly, so sweetly,
Has a dagger concealed, so discretely, so discretely.
That beauty whose eyes say come, come and meet me.
Those lips are passion’s poison for one without purity,
That beauty who seems the epitome of liberation,
Will make you a captive in their personal prison.
Those eyelashes that guard the way to a heaven,
That lies beyond paradise and the known seven,
Will only let one whose body is dead pass through;
And that must be one who has died for love too.
Within that look is a wasteland where the corpses lie,
Of a thousand lovers who this way thought to try.
They are the deaths you die before you gain the goal,
And it will cost you all you have, your cash and your soul.
I know you think those eyes made an assignation,
That was only with you,
But everyone who finds in them such fascination,
Thinks the same as you.


What I know about religions does not merit a mention,
What I know about Islam does not warrant any attention.
What I know of Sufism, on one hand could be written,
What I know of love Is only what you, Beloved, sanction.
Scholars of all traditions are many, each with their opinions,
For students they seem to have an answer to all questions.
Indeed they have theories on what it is to be ‘Unlettered’,
Praise be to God that from all this He made me - unfettered.


For poetry lacking in rhyme I had no time,
Fashions of the day, - meaningless to me!
But real poetry is dictated from within,
If it is to have any value,
That is to say if it is worthy,
To be presented to the arbiter in heaven.

So rhyme and rhyme free,
Now is all the same to me.
It is poetry if it comes from you and not from me.

Subtlety upon subtlety it is,
If inscribed by beautiful Hafiz,
But the linguistic niceties of his,
Are a veil to cover and enhance,
The beauty of a dancer.

Is it the dance or the dancer that matters?
Is it the food or the silver platters?
Its the taste!

When you are absorbed in an activity,
Its witness is God’s mercy.

I teach but the taught are teaching me,
I lead and followers show the way to me.
In reality all is one in one you see,
But the illusions of the sphere of our humanity,
Must be maintained, our souls agree.
Though in timeless time and space less space,
You, me, eternity, time, prose or poetry,
Are one – easy to say, not so easy to see.

Beyond unity – no not ‘beyond’,
Nor ‘within’ nor ‘without’, nor ‘above’ nor ‘below’,
Multiplicity is – in a sense it is the essence of unity.
Pul Sirat, is narrow – as narrow as unity,
What it leads to is manifestly multiplicity.

Oh I am as drunk on prose as on rhyme,
It simply does not matter to me,
What matters is You, and if You are me – then me.

The nub of these confused ramblings of mine,
Is to be kind while you draw breath,
So that death may be kind to you.

Yes, but more importantly even,
Is that love may seek you out, and find you.
For love is the water, the essence of life,
All the rest is strife; grief and strife.

Come Back

The fantasies that fill the mind – is there any end,
This way and that! This idea and that they send.
O come back my Friend, you went somewhere,
Don’t stopover, come back before the night’s end.

Heaven Knows

The fourth heaven opened its doors to me one day,
Or is that something a sober one would never say!
I have felt its pull ever since, though more there is,
For example the place where lives my master, Hafiz.

Bad Thoughts

Whilst they are still only bad thoughts, root them out,
And if you can’t do this, flee to where there is no doubt,
As the mother of holy Jesus did on that auspicious occasion,
When God’s angel it seemed was a man of dubious intention*.
If you give bad thoughts the life-breath of your attention,
They will grow and grow and eventually become an action;
And you have accepted them, so they belong to you,
As do the injuries, they inflict that you cannot undo.
Turn your attention to love and it derivatives instead,
I mean let thoughts of a better kind fill your head;
Thoughts of gratitude, generosity and sympathy,
Patience, good-will, forgiveness, trust and charity,
All the thoughts that, if you water well, will grow,
Into actions that define you – “Reap what you sow”.

*According to the holy Qur'an, when Mary, the virgin mother of Jesus was
approached by angel Gabriel she sought refuge with God as he appeared to her as
a man and she feared his intention.

Self Imposed

Beloved its a task I took on, not one forced on me,
To tell suffering humanity, about the way it could be;
To put into rhyme, the things you showed my heart.
Its about  life and death, not merely a matter of art.

The universe is contained in this little room of mine,
No wonder it reels about unsteadily, with all this wine.
I would put it into better order if i could find the key,
For now I will shift a thing or two or maybe even three.

O I know to the ear that is filled with cotton wool,
This stuff sound bizarre, of a certainty, not cool.
But this tool of rhyme you gave me, and use it I must,
Hoping to remove from some sympathetic heart its rust.

A Love Letter

I wanted to say something very profound to someone,
And to convey eloquently how I felt about that one;
But in my mind only this word could my heart find,
"Love!” I mailed it hoping that one wouldn't mind.

Lancing the Wound

It hurts of course, when a wound that has long festered,
Is punctured, and its poison, so subtly toxic, is released.
The lancing light that draws impurities the psyche suffered,
Into its self, swirls awhile with images, till they have ceased,
Absorbed by the essence mother’s milk has delivered.
It hurts, but pain passes and the organism is so relieved,
That, given the word, the patient their bed has shouldered,
And carried off to health. No longer by the self deceived.

Love All

Fair one you tell yourself, and you also tell me too,
That love for the All, is all in all to the likes of you.
Pray then tell how it is that ‘all’ excludes only me,
So that a unique exception I am? How is this true?

I Don't Know

I don’t know how long this whole affair will continue,
I mean this life, Love, in which you dictate all that I do.
For your sake I smile, go hungry or even become angry,
Love you are the master magician, my lot - merely slavery.
If you tell me to, I will climb any ladder that you show,
Even though I have no idea at all about where it may go.
For your sake I won’t sleep, till from exhaustion I drop,
I don’t know how long this will last, or if it will ever stop.
One thing I feel sure of, with more than a little certainty,
Is that one day in a death-hug you will embrace me fully.
Youth, reading this, stop, and heed my timely warning!
Don’t attempt the way of Love without proper guiding.

Life is Good

Beloved life is good, O yes, O yes, O yes!
This life that is lived in Your sweetness.
This life You gave for the one You took.
This life in Your one long, lingering, look.

It Is better, so much better!
In fact a living love letter,
Going from You to You!
Me its just passing through.

This new life is full passion and perfection,
Full of love and limitless deep affection;
Full of peace and complete satisfaction;
Full of rhyme and the light of Reason;
Full of grace and constant regeneration.
It becomes a kind of candy box selection,
Each option an equally delightful confection.

Beloved this life is better than I can say,
Since with me you have agreed to stay.

Past and Present Continuous

The past is present in the heart, don’t you see?
Guilt and regret try to hide it temporarily.

Face the guilt and repent rather than regret,
Have hope that veil will be removed by Mercy yet.

Many gems and much treasure await that one,
Whose past is presently illumined by the sun.

The sun is the symbol of that Divine Generosity,
The eye that gives light to all it happens to see.

The heart has dark corners, either more or less,
From those shadows comes the bitterness,

That steals the joy today should bring to you.
Entering those dark places is not the thing to do,

Unless you have a light to take there also;
There with the light of guidance you can go,

And find what you have hidden all these years,
The source of all these present woes and fears.

Repentance that is sincere and acted upon,
Means one day the misery in deeds is gone.

Instead to you their value they display,
For forgiveness is God's preferred way.

Forgiving and Forgetting

If you want to be happy-drunk or just plain happy,
Don’t let grievances fester even if they are just.
The flow of love from above they stop immediately,
Put them to one side for now, for God is just;
Those injustices you suffered and that tyranny,
Will make you wealthy one day, for God is just.
If you want to be happy-drunk or just plain happy,
The wine of ‘forgiving and forgetting’ drink daily.

To Love, O my Soul

To love, O my soul, you found the way
Dragged me there, and I wanted to stay;
But love is not like that in reality,
You have to keep finding it anew each day.

Its easy to be caught up in the world's old delusion,
And for the
circumstance of love to seek repetition;
But love is not circumstance, its reality,
How many times have you taught me that lesson.

Love defies description, its like life itself in its way,
For though we continue to breath, eat and even pray,
It does not mean we are alive in reality,
Life may have gone on without us on its own merry way.

To leave us holding on to the shiny empty shell,
Is this mean old world's seductive magic spell:
Its neither life's nor love's reality,
In fact for the lover its likely to be the way to hell.

But there is a very fine point, a sublime subtlety,
For love is each circumstance's essential quality;
Discard the shell of time-bound reality,
Keep the pearl, for that has the nature of eternity.

What the hell! Pearl collecting is the lover's way!
Those moments of love can never really go away,
They are the essence of reality;
Pierce them, thread them, and wear them every day.

Whirling Words

Rational critic you make sense in a way,
But in order for love to come into play,
I must ask you to go away for tonight,
For your suggestions of how to write,
Though technically no doubt quite right,
Tend to make the muse feel nervous.
You are welcome naturally to return to us,
Once she has had her way with me,
And driven the poet far beyond insanity!
In fact I would say be sure you do,
For there is much virtue in you too.
But I must succumb to the muses charms,
For words take flight when in her arms
No longer earthbound they start floating.
No! More than that; they begin soaring,
Leaving the moon and sun far behind,
Leaving no thought or reason in my mind
Across the galaxy flying, sighing sweetly,
Longing carrying them all the way - to me,
O Hafiz pray when will you come and visit,
And into these words put your poetic spirit?
For the pious I am very happy to pray,
But with the profligates prefer to stay.
In this crazy globe, constant only in its turning,
Is it not the height of constancy to be whirling?

Souls Embrace (Mevlana and Shems)

Two souls embrace in pure love's way,
Is that not the love for which we pray?
Two kernels unite in incandescence,
The union of essence with essence!
A synergy that lights up all of eternity,
Whose emanations tear up conformity.
A moment both outside and, yes, within,
The framework of time and space we're in.
If it doesn’t set the universe on fire, literally,
Its only due to the Essence's great mercy.
Some concealed law laid down in ‘forever’,
Says ripples diminish as they spread further.
But likes attract! Essence to essence is drawn!
Just as night must end and day must dawn,
There is about this love a certain inevitability,
Established maybe in timeless pre-eternity.


“Forever” You gave to me today!
Poetry is more than mere word play,
It’s a way of hearing what You say.
An expression of what thought suppresses,
That reaches beyond just casual guesses.
In truth its Your presence that it expresses.
It starts, who knows where it ends?
But images with words it blends,
And these to my pen it sends.

Rends are curious folk that’s for sure,
They travel anywhere for they're pure;
That I guess is what they are for;
The pious can’t go in every door.
What is more, to heart and mind,
Entry Is very hard for them to find,
To certain places they're confined.

‘Forever’ is a place in the mind,
Where lovers go if they're inclined.
There with love they are united,
And cannot any more be divided.
It’s a state of permanent union,
That only to a very few is given;
It feels just as if the sun has risen.
Permanent day that cannot be taken away,
Not even the dark night can cover that day.
Union with union is for forever given,
A tale that is far beyond explanation.

Get up, and Get On

Get up and get on, the past is gone,
The present is here the game is on.
There is everything still to play for,
Things needn't be as they were before.
Come on, there are many possibilities,
Things can improve, if God so pleases.
Despair itself is the enemy to beat,
If you have faith in God don't retreat,
Advance, on every front go forward,
Sincere effort surely has its reward.
However long it seems, night passes,
And on a new day the sun surely rises.
If you believe, you know that God knows,
And on true believers Mercy He bestows.
If you have failed a hundred times or more,
Recall that one who said, “In failure be sure,
God's Will then became to me more clear!*”
God is not far, but near! In truth He is here.
To be patient is to play the long game,
To be in haste is to invite future shame.
Get up and get on, I say again and again,
Cherish in your heart this sweet refrain.

*The quote is from Hz Ali.

The Way of Love

The way to Real love through Unreal love is not easy*,
Far more straightforward is the practise of simple piety.
If you need advice on this matter, then choose the latter;
But there is a way to love that you may consider better.
It is to seek love through the desire to serve humanity,
That is the love that is essentially brotherly or sisterly.
But in that love all of mankind you must treat as family.
The great souls know love's each and every aspect,
Human and Divine; if to them you show great respect,
Then know that the gift of Real love they can bestow,
And on the path of love that is all you really need to know.

*It is said that it is possible to find Real (Haqiqi) love
by means of unreal (Majasi) love. This requires that one
uses unreal love as a stepping stone.

Every Act

Every act of neighbourly kindness from someone
Is really the Merciful One's blessed action.
Every expression of distress from a poor one
Is really the kind Lord's testing interaction
Every kind of brusque question from an angry one,
Is really the Just Judge's interrogation.
Every look of coquetry from a beautiful one,
Is really the Beloved  One's seduction
Respond to man or woman or child appropriately,
But in every human action try to see the Divinity.


Marcus' remarks in his notebook are pure gold,*
The essence of the Roman Empire he displays
If Rudyard's deep poem we happen to unfold,**
The essence of the British Empire he portrays.

If we look we can find some God given quality,
At any country's heart, beneath its worldly corruption.
In each life's book there is also a kernel of purity,
To follow that is loyalty to our Maker and our nation.

In the true hadiths that we are graciously given,
The essence of the Islamic Empire we can discover.
In Allah's words that in the holy Qur'an are written,
The essence of the Empire of Man we can uncover.

*Marcus Aurelias – The Golden Notebook (Meditations)
** Rudyard Kipling - If

I Came to Know

Today I came to know who writes this poetry,
It is You of course You are the Poet in me
Or to put it even more succinctly
It is written down by me,
But its delivery,
You oversee.

It sounds like the purest kind egocentricity,
To say that everything is within me,
But to speak really honestly,
How else can it be,
If You are me?

Father Christmas

Father Christmas of course every adult knows is just fantasy,
And in case they might feel tempted to consider his reality,
They try their very best to be grounded in sordid materiality.
I say he is both real and unreal, so stake my claim to lunacy.


Personal pleasure is the bait that keeps the world going,
Longing for the divine pleasure keeps heaven turning;
To the highest calling aspire – and only love itself serve,
Burn in love's fire selfish low desires and love deserve.

Love is More

Lover and beloved exist because Love said Be,
They are but a stopover on the return journey,
Journey, lover, beloved say what you please
What has love to do with things such as these?

Rhymes, patterns, may please mind or heart,
Love pays no heed to the finest works of art.
Lines and colours may excite the earthly eye,
Tunes please the ear or make imaginations fly;

The elegance and fascination of a young beauty,
May gain adoration or even provoke cupidity;
But what has love to do with things like these?
Heart, intellect and body faculty, they but tease,

It is Love itself that these fancies seek to invoke;
But Love is more than just hub, wheel and spoke,
It is the eternal unseen magnet constantly turning,
Drawing back, inevitably, into itself every thing.

Great and Small

The best of expositions, or for that matter, of poetry,
Connects the vast with the insignificant, intuitively:
The revolving of the cosmos, seemingly high and mighty,
With a spoon stirring some sugar into a simple glass of tea.

It sees, in a blooming rose, the heart's inner expansion;
Or in the moon's oversight of an oceans constant motion,
Sees the luminous transcendence of the unique Divinity,
Reflected in the shifting forms of His repeated creativity.

But this can be only one aspect of the beautiful story,
For between the two extreme ends of the holy polarity,
Between the infinite and time bound earthly manifestations,
Lies the energy that can give life to the word's expressions.

Love is the name that the sages give to that life-force,
Into that maelstrom of desire the lover dives, of course.
The universal desires that in the particular it is manifest,
The particular seeks by that universality to be blessed.

Fine as a single hair of the beloved's head is the thread
Uniting an illumined palace with a humble garden shed,
Or a lamp in a niche with the light of heaven and earth,
Or the fulfilment of a desire, with the act of giving birth.

A gate to a pretty garden can open the path to paradise,
For the one passing through with the vision of the wise.
Narrow is the path from the mundane land of normality,
Up to the great unseen plain, whose substance is divinity.


Longing is loving, whilst here it is unfulfilled;
By ardent longing our soul’s heart is fuelled.
The fulfilment that we desire so immediately,
Is really the divine Beloved making us ready.
We are prepared in the suite of repentance,
By those we served before without reluctance.
We are bathed firstly in the milk of patience,
Dressed in the finery of solitude and silence,
And decorated with the jewels we suffered for.
Then groomed by our compassion for the poor.
Our conscious mind however asks, simply,
Is all this fuss really an absolute necessity?
But when the Beloved opens to us the door,
We forget all that seemed hard to us before.
Maybe you thought the Beloved was somebody,
Surprise! That One is nobody and yet everybody.


Lord, if a request of mine lacks the perfume of sincerity,
Returned to us, with a note, may those foolish words be.
Such an epistle we would regard as evidence sufficient,
That you listened to the words that from folly we sent.

The Real Fight

Don't stand in the way of history if you can help it,
It rolls across the plains like a vast invading army,
Or a swarm of locusts, destroying all that's before it.
Don't try to oppose what has the scent of destiny;
Like a wise Tom Bombadillo stand apart if you can.
See the power games being played out before you;
And if you want the best from your allotted life span,
Pray that history passes by a humble one like you.
The battle you need to fight is the one in your mind,
And in your heart too, if you want the taste of victory.
That conquest, if you gain it, last forever you will find,
Whilst the gains and losses of the world's insanity,
Are soon reversed, and like the ever shifting sands,
Of a desert, change the contours of the land frequently.
Concentrate on the business that is in your own hands,
Make a stand against the evil in you – now that is bravery,


Dull and dreary was the day, cloud covered and grey,
I was inclined by the fireside to sit, and there to stay.
Then the sun shone through, suddenly, fiercely bright,
Wind shredded clouds to intense blue sky gave way.
I suddenly recalled that there is so much to do today,
To work, to read, to write, to feel your love, to pray.

Turning Point

From selfish desires and from self satisfaction,
You turned away with a great determination,
To seek a better way to live, another mode of being.
This starts when you realise giving is truly getting,
Then you find your appetite for passing pleasures,
Gives way to an insatiable need for love’s pure treasure.
This is a bliss you can’t measure or count in any way,
But you can pray, “O Lord, like this forever let me stay”

More Wine

More and more wine you keep sending my way,
Are you trying to get me drunk again today,
Just when I think I have reached my limit,
You take my glass and pour more wine in it.


Moments of joy come along – praise be,
One such moment came happily to me,
A walk in the rain that made me delirious,
Moments pass but some joys stay with us.


Time and space try to hide your ever present reality,
Form and shape try to conceal your shining beauty;
They do their best you must give them credit for that,
But it is as vain as the sun trying to wear a straw hat.


Are you ready to be a lover as you seem to desire?
Ready to have your heart, brain and liver set on fire?
This is only possible if it is written in your destiny,
If so, my dear, approach your fortune, but go gently.

The whirlpool is for those who are completely pure,
Scrub that heart clean again and be completely sure.
Then, when you are ready, enter the sea of certainty,
And be free from pernicious doubt and insincerity.

O Man

O Man, the heaven-sent scent of heaven is a woman who is true,
Sister, wife, mother; if the Lord puts love between her and you,
A woman can bring eternal love as a gift, and freely give it too,
The essence of father Adam’s desire is made manifest in her,
This is no small thing, in fact in all creation it is a great wonder.
That for all her divine femininity she is human, like you, O brother.

Inspiring Music

Inspiration maestro, please! Don’t just tease us with a tune,
This work we do is the way, we hope, to a greater fortune.
If the Lord has inspired you and made your voice so sweet,
Let your music carry our head as far as the beloved’s feet.


The love in your eyes carried me many a mile,
I journeyed further with the joy in your smile,
But it was with the song you sang in my ear,
That finally I arrived and found myself - here.


Adulation is a potent poison I think,
That one full of self should not drink;
But for he who knows Your secret ways,
It is nothing more than just a fizzy drink.


Love is a state of mind and heart, be aware,
When we have love we can be anywhere,
Whosoever we are with, wherever we are,
Love is there, love is there, love is there.


Fireworks first fizzle, flare up then fade,
To ignite and excite sight they are made.
In the heart all the seeker wants to see,
Is a single candle shining, unblinkingly.


Love sooths the wrinkled brow, full of worry,
Love calms footsteps far too full of hurry,
Conflict in the heart it eliminates quietly,
It gives the patience that ensures victory.

Kind friends, good company; a happy birthday party!
If good food, fine talk and heartfelt wishes there be,
What more can one ask from a world that’s passing,
What better way to share our transient humanity.

You say you have a headache – what can I say,
You say it’s just been a pretty horrendous day.
It sounds pretty lame to mutter my sympathy,
But dear all I can do is hope it soon passes away.


Ah You gave me daughters – what can I say to You,
Daughters, pure hearted ones and beauties too.
Whatever I liked or longed for you gave me freely,
Now they’re in my heart, and gratitude is due to You.


Metaphors, similes, and so many images abound,
O heart, do not linger too long; do not be bound,
By fantasies, but press on in reality’s pursuit,
Seek the truth and accept no kind of substitute.
Seek the place of gathering with all your energy,
In the gathering of the gathered hearts try to be.
Dogs sniff at every bitch and whatever they may see,
Bring your dog to heel and teach it to walk proudly;
For O heart you are precious, high born, and free,
Do not, I say, bend the knee to every passing fantasy.

Secret Love

The more longing in your heart you feel,
The more the connection becomes real;
Need is another word for love you know,
Feel the need but to no other let it show.
The heart that nurtures its desire secretly,
Finds  its love is growing stronger, daily

The Small and Still Voice

My muse has been in hiding, watching I suspect,
From some hidden place in my heart or intellect.
Waiting to be heard in silence, when the voices,
That crowd the mind, cease offering phony choices.
Waiting, till in the room of the heart silence descends.
It’s a still and small voice, no one fully comprehends,
But when it speaks mountains tremble, seas surge,
Fire burns fiercely, planets turn, lover and beloved merge.

The world is a place of endless distress and commotion,
Turning constantly full of argument and strong emotion,
Signifying nothing, as the bard said wisely and succinctly.
Let it go on its way; instead listen patiently and quietly.
Its only in the calm mind and the peace-filled heart,
We appreciate the muse’s jewel-scattering timeless art.


There is a desire rising inside me for union,
That will not be gainsaid, it just goes on and on,
It would carry me down many a by-way I suppose,
If I let it, but I stand firm I will not go by those.
It is only the road that leads to your door,
The road called the Highway of the Pure and Poor,
That I will allow my desire to carry me on,
And on and on I will go till I reach that union.


The Beloved;
These would be-lovers some touch of insanity must show,
If their love is as true as they swear, their heart will tell them so.

The Guide;
What you say is right, I know, but their over-all care is my duty too,
I will not let them to abandon their life altogether, even for you.

The Beloved
Ah, the kindness of the guide! Modelled on the compassion,
For humanity that from the Trustworthy one always shone.

The Disciple
How can it be that the beloved and the guide should disagree?
Bewilderment on bewilderment all this causes to arise in me.

The Guide
The beloved, it is true, lies beyond reason and insanity.
That a little of this will touch you – yes thus it must be,
But to make its effect on your life a passing, light, affair,
Hang on to me my dear, don’t wander, I have been there!
The goal is the same goal, the Beloved very well knows it,
But to drink wine from a bottle you do not have to smash it,
Only remove the cork and swig it with enthusiastic relish,
Taking as little or as much as you can bear or would wish.
As for bewilderment, it’s an inevitability, and frequent,
The heart and mind must bear this and remain silent.
The Beloved is me, and you, and is the Beloved also,
There is not nor ever has been two, this come to know.

The Beloved
My role in this affair is simple it is just to be here,

Love Pains

It hurts, this vast emptiness inside, really,
It’s the kind of pain no one else can see.
It hurts, this sadness – it really hurts I say,
But not like the body’s pain in any way.
It is just sorrow for no reason apparently.
O Lord, what purpose in this can there be?
My sadness has come for an answer, to You,
O Lord, about this feeling what can I do?

Then in my secret heart the answer came,
This sorrow is part of Love’s sweet game.
Hafiz came to mind and to me was saying,
Reason cannot understand what is happening,
Drink wine and only with the beloved be drinking,
Sorrow and joy by turns you will be feeling.

My Dears

My dears, I love you, each and every one,
But my work is clear and has barely begun.
For within, around and beyond each one,
There is the One who is the One in every one.
That One is drawing me and thus also you,
From “me and you” toward what alone is True.
A better way to really love you can there be,
Than to draw you all towards there with me.

If its Love

If it is love you really want to gain,
Let nothing else in the heart remain,
I would say so much more on this
But it’s something words can’t explain.

The World and its Ways

This world is full of anger, sorrow, and such confusion,
Hidden behind vanity, is loneliness and dissatisfaction.
Its inhabitants fight day and night thinking might is right,
Destroying if they can whatever comes into their sight.
They mock with skilful cynicism and such clever phrases,
Anything that could lift the spirit or that the soul pleases.
They take the heart to be a mere muscle in the body,
They take love to be an exercise in physical virility..
Cleverness they conceive to be the height of fashion,
Accumulation of property and power is their passion.
That rotting carcase let them chew over and chomp on,
That it’s hardly fit for dogs is my inevitable conclusion.
There must be something better something more than this!
O my sister, my brother, there is, there is, of course there is.
Depart from chewing old bones and look for better meat,
Depart from self obsession and your selfishness defeat.
Depart from  trying to be the king of a pile of stinking shit,
And enter as a slave the domain of the eternal holy spirit.
Its an urgent matter, before your dragged further down,
Struggle hard to get free or in the world you will drown.

A Long Hug

A long hug on a hard day,
To make that anger go away.
A loving look in a hard moment,
Love unspoken soft and silent.
A caress where words wont do,
To say whatever comes I love you.

September 22nd 2016

The sun has had its way with our hemisphere,
It moved on, just saying “Goodbye, see you later”.
What I mean of course is that now autumn is here,
The hot sun’s gone to keep a tryst with the equator.

But like a good guest it has left us a golden legacy,
Of ripening fruit and a riot of rich colours - in waiting.
In our hearts a warm glow, what though it’s a memory?
Its left a sense of satisfaction, an after supper feeling.

Shadows stretch further, days are shorter, evenings cooler,
Tans fade, summer cottons give way to something warmer.
Thoughts are turning towards surviving yet another winter,
And to work and earning, rather than to love and laughter.

The seeming long days of our life are now one summer shorter,
Our histories are growing longer and memories getting fuller,
Oh I appreciate the glories and gaiety of a long hot summer,
But these autumn thoughts are more mellow, deeper, richer.
Yet another gift coming from the infinite store of our Creator.


You want to know then how it is to dance,
Held in the beloved’s arms, in a trance?
But I can only talk about the windy weather,
That draws golden autumn leaves together,
Spins them till they are way beyond giddy;
Or chases them down the street willy-nilly.
I can only talk about stirring sugar quickly,
In a glass of Mevlana’s special brew of tea,
Till the glass in its saucer starts turning,
And saucer too begins slowly revolving.

But you want to talk about dancing wildly
Of the beloved with the lover in ecstasy?
Yet what comes to mind is another matter,
About how a whirlpool is sure to shatter,
Many a small boat caught up in its grip,
And to still many voices when it lets rip.
Except the one gentle voice of the master,
Speaking amidst what's deemed a disaster.
But there I go not answering you properly,
What was the question that you asked me?