Wednesday 8 May 2013

GATHER


I have time’s footsteps’ engraved on my tongue
Recorded in full emotion and expression.

I breathe life into your imagination
I teach your heart courage and inspiration
I vocalize the passion of your tribe
I narrate time with a hypnotizing vibe
I explicate every story with vigor and breath taking life

Now gather before I tell:
Lessons that lie in time’s oyster

Gather around the fire and feast!
Put your ear on the book of past voices
Echoing pages that dazzle your eye with theatrical art
Sway with that current of wonder that stirs your heart

Press your soul against the lip of your culture
Come close together as the Stars look down curiously
Come close together as the moon smiles so beautifully
Come close together and marinate yourself in nature
And listen to tales that will cause your fascination to rapture

And like this our ancestors continue give
Our tribe - life’s lifeless lessons of
Love’s musk, War’s sickening plot, a bleeding earth,
The color of character, The Magic in our soil,
The phenomenal fragrance of worship

 Like this our Ancestors continue to live
As Tomorrow begins to breathe
In the ears of a lively innocence that swims
In Life’s dark womb.
As Today creeps silently into time’s tomb.

Listen carefully
As I tell you of the ornaments from her soul
That dazed both farmer and hunter

She carries life in her tears
She paints her face playfully with passionate pigments
She holds her nutritious breast at the mouth of every creature
And smiles though we deplete her

She rewards hands that toil on her soil
She strides elegantly as she adorns a cloak of sensational seasons
She sings her blues in the waves of melodic oceans
She spoils her guests rotten with continental care
As the entire galaxy bears witness to her motherly kindness

And what of the fury of her soul?
That swirls with indomitable force
Or her volcanic rage that spills her anger?
Or her flooding tears that cover all with distraught?
And look in her mysteries, a million minds are caught

What a perfect poem is her soul, art that the Maker wrought
Of rhythmic captivating thought
And yet our global greed leaves her distraught
As we suffocate her soul in a blanket of smoke

Where then will life find hope?
For though curiosity dreams sweetly at the edge of the telescope
Common sense knows that she is our earthly home.

And as she ages towards her last page
And moves aside for a frightful stage
Then reborn on the 2nd blowing of a winged horn
How woeful indeed are the secrets here shown?
And eye sore where forgetful souls are thrown
And serving souls? How wonderful is their true home.

I take you to the forest of love

Where heavenly flowers blossom in dancing souls,
And tongues are pleased by the sweetest honey that only love knows
And hearts are scented by a fragrant affection that blows
Past locked eyes that are lost in a world where time’s haste is slow
And a river of promises never ceases to flow
And the seed of unknowns, firm in the soil of hope begins to grow
And the magic of companionship beautifully glows
As lovers are covered in the golden dust that Fate generously throws
But who now knows what Fate will now not show

And over there some souls wander
Alongside the towering mysteries of this wonder
In the dense marshes of fantasia they dream under
As a cloud of heavy emotions gather to plunder
Love’s paradise and render meshed souls asunder
A heavenly gift granted and now a memory that will not shatter
As sweethearts are blinded by a blaming thunder
And hate echo’s louder as the tree of withering love grows taller
And in its shade sit souls sobered by a vine of ache
A lesson that these souls will not shed, a pain to loud to ponder

I take you to the front line of a thousand wars
Where Rulers roar on battlefields of power
Where trust is murdered by deception
And honor is slayed by manipulation
Where wisdom labors peace

Where Kingdoms take flight on the golden wing of knowledge
Where truthful Kings feed the masses the fruits they pledge
Where council is taken at the feet of a sage
And rulers are sober with truths beverage
What a florescent page
Soon to be, a forgotten age

When the war drum whispers in infants' ears
And the grey become grateful for their silver years
And the village’s face is smeared with white fear
Wisdom’s eye begins to tear
At the sound of destruction that draws near
As warriors wage courage on fear
And death lives at the tip of flying spears
Where greed is quenched with blood
Where flames of hate consume villages
As a frightful force thrusts the hearts of the defenseless

Sorrow’s tearful page
Soon to be a forgotten page
A portrait of war’s curse
Death’s doomful verse


I narrate to you: a character

Who takes desire for an archer?
Whose arrow aims at a darting target
And hits nothing but regret
A slave who thinks himself to be a master
Whose labor cannot not find the bottom of his deepening pleasures
As he seeks to please his fading shadow
What greater reward is his than a chest of sorrow?

And another

Who knows his Master
Who takes truth for an archer
Whose arrow aims at a fixed target
And hits what his Master commands
A victory that forever stands
That slave who does not seek a greater pleasure
Than what will remain forever
For this is his only treasure
And servitude is his only leisure
For he knows with certainty his Master’s splendor


Now sit and with soul contemplate

Become overwhelmed by the essence of the Great Spirit
Allow the torch of introspection to illuminate
The secrets inscribed in the cave of your inner being

Like that blessed soul that sits in an orbit of worship to Truth
Whose cosmic existence exudes with rays of
Servitude with every lively action
Actions of Truth to Truth, for Truth, in Truth, with Truth, By Truth

What melodic traction
A galaxy of Love
That connects creation with Maker
A Love that completes creation
And makes that searching soul whole
A story of a beauty too intense to be told
A love that wrote Fate’s golden notes
A light the conducts the music of life

Now sense with spirit the music of the stories I tell
The teachings that time will continue to spell
To every era that shall dwell
Within the freedom of his spinning cell

What beautiful gems time’s tree leaves?
To crown the thoughts of those who ponder
To be worn by those who gather
In divine remembrance of what lives Forever
an action that perfumes the be-ing of every being
As Time continues to sing
A chorus of praise to the Being Supreme



Saturday 4 May 2013

A JEWEL FROM MY RIB


All he longed for was to see evil
He made the choice to see the devil,   
This heart pure had once been
But now he bathed his heart in rivers of sin

He looks at her and cannot hear his mother's voice

He looks at her and cannot see his sister’s smile
He looks at her but cannot see Nature's face

All he sees is her sex appeal,

His eleventh fantasy before his eyes becoming real.
By the opium of his carnal desires, 
He becomes an analyst of the Creator's masterpiece

Where he is she will not know peace

for he is possessed by his own demon,
That increased his testosterone flow, 
in this state no beast will reason

She cannot not hear him 

panting wildly for her neck,

She cannot hear 

his vicious thoughts to suffocate 
all joys and smiles from her soul.
She couldn’t hear 
her protector 
turn into predator 
in an instant blink.

This tyrant was to powerful for her, 

and so this lioness roars for help,
her roar is heard but not listened too
he stripped her honor viciously 
as she asked herself 
who In society stripped him 
of his conscience?

His madness stood erect 

as he demolished the walls
that guarded her soul: her soul bled in bitter infinite tears,
As she wished this moment to end, 
her mind stood defeated,
it remained perplexed by 
this animal's disrespect for her womb.

She clenched the soil for strength

for her strength left her slowly 
 and slowly each smile each laugh 
was peeled from her soul, 
he plucked the petals from her soul. 
Now his madness is flaccid like his culture
He pulled out but still a violent fear echoed deep in her being.

Her soul lied with wounds that will not become scars

Her soul was bare like a poem without words









All he longed for was to hear  evil

He made the choice to listen to the devil
This soul pure had once been
but now he bathed his soul in rivers of sin

He bought a beautiful house

She turned it into a humble home
He worked hard to feed the children
She had a hard time giving them a wholesome culture

He took from a bottled evil; 

She stayed sober for the kids
Her beauty was blurred in his vision
She knew he'd forgotten himself

He rearranged her face:

He laid his hands on what he cannot make
She shadowed her fear in silence
He marginalizes her love 
and chooses to womanize

She digests her pain for the children

this coward’s ego can not be filled
but she stays as patient as a saint,
He missed her and broke the window
her home was broken.
The children’s hearts are broken,
She said ENOUGH!

So he figured he'll pull the trigger 

on her First
so that nothing will stand between
him and the kids,
then the little kids
Now they all lay  
in what once ran vividly in their veins
an eye blinding image framed in it are victims of a fool’s rage!

All he longed to say was evil

He made the choice to speak to the devil
This tongue pure had once been
but now he kept his tongue in a river of sin

He pours fabricated words for all around

with intent to tickle their ears with his mister money image.
He could talk sand into gold, 
He made pity walk off his conscience
so that his eyes would water no more,
 He has so much fear in him
that there are cob webs 
in every corner of  his wretched soul
But some how he always wears his killer mask.
He is king of beasts in this jungle with tarred paths

He lures her with dreamy sparkling ornaments that glow on her face;

He lures her with a cup of lies and stirred in it is a teaspoon of half truths
that she my taste the truth but all still a vicious lie
He lures her with sweet snow that makes her senses melt,
Even she cannot understand what she has become
He put a leash on her soul and sold her curving figure to 
hungry eyes that stand on moral ruins, 

she stood in the dead of night 

at the 90 degree end of the block
thinking of her last meal it 
was something white 
but not quite rice,

She wears the hottest outfit in the market 

picked out by him:
so tight on her it suffocated her skin, 
Her skin was chilled by a lonely breeze
She wins her customers' eye 
again and again, and again

She tried to put together the crumbles in her mind

But just then he'd unleash his crack then 
she would crumble in ecstasy, 
this is said to be the oldest profession

She's only fourteen!


Who Is she?

she is sister, she is mother
she is daughter, she is neighbor
She is a jewel from my rib!
She could be Africa
She is a nation, she is the third world
She is Bosnia, she is Sudan
she is Lebanon, She is Rwanda
She is Palestine, She is Cuba
She is Afghanistan, She is Kashmir
She is an overheated planet earth

And who is he? You tell me...


KEEP MY HEART AWAKE


Keep my heart awake
Lavishly light with love for Muhammad (May Peace be upon him)
Till my innermost being becomes as beautiful 
As Muhammad!(May Peace be upon him)

Keep my heart awake
In youthful yearning
For the golden gate
whose height only light can contemplate

Keep my heart awake
Fixed to the flow of
waters with a
God Conscious glow
That irrigates what grows

Keep My heart awake 
Between the Silence that precedes every breath
Between the stillness that speaks after every step
Between the life and death of every thought kept.

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