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annh Mar 2019
Swinging rhythmically; bloated and unsteady,
He nudges at the doorway of his desire,
And descends into darkness,
Carrying his heavy load of lust.

Beyond the bottleneck,
From where warmth and light beckon,
He hears the trill of girlish laughter,
The sound of sanctuary at play.

Pausing briefly; head cocked to one side,
He sighs with resignation,
Deposits his craving clumsily,
And withdraws deflated and defeated.

Once again.
‘She is a wild, tangled forest with temples and treasures concealed within.’
- John Mark Green
Badshah Khan Mar 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) - 72

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

Like a bamboo flute his dear life'
Noble birth of woodwind family.

Which naturally generates;
An acoustics stream of sacred music!

Allah Khair..... Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem

Ummah Thurab - Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
Hunter Green Mar 2019
Into this cloud of canvas I could fall,
Shaping my emotions like treasures on the wall.
Like a deathly hunger I cannot ignore the roar,
It deafens with its deceiving grin,
So loud in silent reality,
So bright in dark decree.
Fleeting forests fountaining, feelings flourishing,
Sacred sunsets sadly singing salutations.
Nimble notes noticed near nassaus nothingness.
Is it evil that paints this mural of my heaven?
The paint on the inside of my skull never dries,
before another coat drenches the lofty skies.
Jai!
Winter weary crinkled leaves
dance on the windswept streets

Jai!
Robins have returned
their shimmering red *******
bursting with song

Jai!
Sun's long flaxen arms
gathers roses, lilies and gardenias
from our fragrant garden
Blithely, eagerly I clip clusters of spiky purple, verduous
Okinawa spinach for my lunch
adding in fuzzy bright green leaves of Thai spinach
squatting in the corner of the garden

David, AKA, Farmer Brown has certainly been busy
planting, fertilizing, cultivating a miniature farm
in our backyard

Delicate rain kisses fall lightly on my brow
and Day hides her bonnie blue face
in soft gray veils

Gathering the fresh, vibrant bounty
I feel so very blessed
surprising a garland of yellow finches
sipping water at the bird fountain
whoooosh....
lofty wings of my heart
joins them as they take off
in golden flight
MissPine Feb 2019
by: MissPine

Happy is the man who gives love,
Even the moon and stars can't have.
At the beginning of every journey,
Rise thy spirit of love until eternity.
Thou shall not doubt nor ponder,
Since love is from now and forever.
Those days, Those days
in Prashanti, not a care in the world
waiting for the Lord of the Universe

Rainbow sequined saris flutter like
colorful prayer flags
in the sultry, warm breezes

Women devotees, buzzing honeybees,
breathlessly squeeze into granite window openings
outside the mandir
straining to see, hoping their adoring eyes
will be blessed by the nectarine vision of Sai Avatar

Seva Dal angels in vivid orange and yellow scarves
manage to bridle the swooning, burgeoning, euphoric
crowds with spirited "Sairam, Sairams"

O Baba
what we wouldn't give for a chance to once more
see your airborne Lotus feet floating towards us
on the golden sands of Puttaparthi

Reverently, I press my fingertips to my eyelids
taking padnamaskar
these orbs, these orbs
once gazed upon the holy sight of
Bhagavan Sri Sathya Sai Baba
Badshah Khan Feb 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 48

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

I am subtly a wanderer, a wanderer alone;
There is amply no sacred place for me in eternal heaven,
And the earth remains no possible means to me.

My dear heart, is in lasting peace,
As I, fondly grasp my Beloved!
Therefore, I walk alone on my chosen path,
Someday, somewhere I can rest peacefully,
In his fond remembrance and in his deep love!

But I couldn’t discover that sacred place,
The holy place must be dearer than all;
Better than the eternal heaven and the sacred earth.

I naturally heard about that sacred place,
Its exist somewhere, I must properly locate,
After many moral miseries and willingly suffer,
I undoubtedly discovered that sacred place.

Its undoubtedly exist in my noble Beloved heart,
So I start traveling towards that sacred place.
All alone on my chosen path, so I can rest eternally!

Allah Khair….. Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem

Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
My hubsy and I went for a moonlit stroll
graceful billowy branches gently ripple above us
Black swans sailing in the moonlight

Squawking sounds of katydids, crickets, frogs
sawing zzz's and occasional loud drone of
rap music cut through, punctuated the
brisk night air

As we meandered our shadows
grew taller, towering temple steeples
stretching across patchy luminescent streets

We even caught a fleeting glimpse of our
silver sillhouettes superimposed
like Milky Way gods over the heavens

I looked at my darling spouse, heart palpitating
my hand tucked cozily into his

"We are Vast Beings David," I whispered tenderly
"So much more that we realize."
The crystal ball is clouded in misty veils
but sometimes a soft wind
rattles, blowing the beaded curtains aside
and we glimpse the enigmatic, the mysterious

In one such revelatory dream:
I was dressed in a black crepe abhaya with
gold Kashmiri trim

My face shrouded in skeins of muslin cloth
there was a knock on the door,
shyly I peeked from behind my niqab

A group of friends gathered outside
encouraging me to go
out with them
Refusing, politely, I explained that I was
fasting for Ramadan.

As the dream faded, I later mentioned it
to a Muslim saleswoman whom we purchased
incense from.

Her eyes grew big as the crescent moon and star
Surprised and startled, excitely she revealed:

"We are celebrating Ramadan right now!"
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