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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)
Badshah Khan Feb 9
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 39

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

The faqeer (Holy Wanderer) won’t search for any eternal love.

The eternal love itself eagerly begs for him,

To be uniquely his loved once.

He naturally becomes a Faqeer (Holy wanderer) means;

He scatters himself as a void vessel,

To be naturally filled with divine wisdom and love!

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

Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
M-E Jan 28
I SEE the streets

         Reviving in Mohamed V avenue
and I SEE..You..reluctant pigeons
picking, beaking bread crumbs off the grass and palm trees are witnesses that I meant no harm
I SEE You my lonely friend; Pigeon
Sunbathing next to a dry, abundant fountain of nothingness
You speeding engines, cars and buses
You occupied and empty benches
You loners and lovers. Friends and couples

And I SEE and I FEEL You prayers, rising in the sky
From the mosques, synagogues and churches
I SEE Medina walls and gates
defying time and watching over
The comers and goers
As a painting worthiness rise
I SEE and I HEAR West-African, Gnawa Sintir
And Gnawa cymbals -Krakebs- shrilled
A hypnotic tone; A spiritual ritualistic music
Which with each rhythmical hit on the drum
Comes out a heartbeat of life.
M-E Jan 26
The wanderer's memoir 05: Reading The Madman

      You asked me on dreams:

      Wandering in the landscape of my sleep
Seeking for the meaning in oak trees
Leaves strummed a strangely soothing rustles
And twigs snapped at me, under my feet; My apologies
Too late. It fell in an irreversible, absolute silence.

      A pure, verboten green lands
Hovering in the everlasting stillness
A book in my hands, folding time in an oblivious state
Under the gentleness of a shadowing tree
Holding me under its arborescent wings
Nature sheltered me in it's nest as towhee's offsprings
And The rays-the fine golden strings-
Perched on my genuineness as a kiss on my maskless face
.

      I kneeled for the shining blanket in the obscure mattress
Before it went away with the grass
Flickering between autumns and springs.
Inspired by:

A beautiful scenery of pine trees forest that I replaced with oak trees.

Gibran Khalil Gibran - The Madman
M-E Jan 19
....I need to write this down
I need a pen, no, I need a book
I don't need anything at all
                               I need to think
   I made my life a poem, a novel
   Or nothing at all; Impossible

                               I need to write
How to enjoy my life
Standing on a sharp edge of the knife
So I wrote;
                I drew a straight chronoLINE
On its sides I drew buildings
A city in my psyche, prosper and grow

I wasn't much of a reader
So I read to write
So whenever I think, I think Gibran
On life, smiles and tears
Way over my league but I try

But, when I linger and cry
Poe's raven cawed 'Nevermore'
And when I am depressed
I feel..laying on Anne Sexton's grass of blades
But I..remember other's changing words like Daniel Moore's

Whenever I feel HAPPY
I become the king, the stone
Of R.L.Stevenson and Dickinson
So I read and write
        Sweep and rinse; making sense??

When I wander I wander with Whiteman to be inspired
And inspire others with my writings
As I am inspired

I need to write Yeats
So whenever I write, while I am sleepy
I write my tender dreams
M-E Jan 9
Just a wanderer in the streets
Days driving in slow motion
As public transportation
Buses or trains
In the roads I call my veins
Signs of temptation
On every grocery store
I opened the padlocks
On every bookstore
Opened the windows and the doors
Fighting the urge for more
I can't take it anymore
Cried as if traffic lights went green
Stop. I am not giving up.
I need to write it
down.
The wanderer is still struggling, fighting, wandering.
M-E Dec 2018
I wanted to live the american dream
But my dream is homesick
Years later and here I am
Just a wanderer
In the cemetry of dreams
M-E Dec 2018
When I was a child, so many wonders and questions rise up to my grip-sized head
"Mommy. Where I come from?"
"Daddy. Why the sun is yellow and the sky is blue?"
"Mommy. Will I die like Grandpa? When?"
"Daddy. Why you are my dad?"
"Daddy. Why this coin can buy everything I want from the grocery store?"
Now, I just keep reminding myself that I ve got a rent to pay and a mouth to feed.

-19/06/2018-
I started few months ago writing some thoughts while going to work or wandering in the streets and I thought to share it with you guys. :)
Danneli Jan 15
Words fail me in ways I never thought real
Each word is my downfall, a blow to ****
Another piece of my heart, or piece of theirs sealed
By each sentence I rhyme I further their will

My words were once rain, falling down from the sky
Forgotten and soulless, in the dark they were mine
Like star from the heavens that fell as it cried
We wish upon dead things and never ask why

When I die, give me life like the many before
Let me burn to the wind, while none others mourn
Let the words on my heart give heed to the storm
Let my blood draw the sunset and keep others warm

I live with these words splashed like paint on my heart
My screams etched through veins, my silence my art
My eyes overshadowed in memories marked
As a body which stood while its mind fell apart

There are fires in the sky that will end me soon
But I never wished they would **** you too
Thus, blow out your fire, let its smoke reach the moon
Follow only the clouds that part for you.
Ah, the humor. I wander a desert. I'll walk through it all, swim through oceans and climb over mountains. To what end will this take me?
Toni Jan 8
A sea of lush trees and mountains sprout out from her eyes and tickle the fringes of her lashes.

Each golden curl to every fiery, auburn swirl of hair snaps with electricity, like firecrackers bursting against a dawn smeared sky.

Long, aristocratic fingers with smooth palms that she weaves through the air, accentuating her every word.

She walks, breathes, and laughs Magick.

I’d follow her over every fallen log in our overgrown fantasies. I’d swing over every stream, swim up every waterfall, and dance on our bare feet until our toes were full of twigs and stones.

I’d skip with her through the cosmos, my shining ray of sunlight.
Honestly, she’s one of the most ambitious, honest, genuine people on this plane of existence. I’d stay up until the wee hours of the morning with her, giggling, reading, playing Animal Crossing. She’s been my best friend for nearly 16 years and I love her with all my being.
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