"sufi" poems
Dear me,
I hope this letter finds you kind, I hope it finds you at ease,
I hope it finds you as you were born.. a soft spring breeze.
I am writing this letter to inform you that you still have space to unfold, that you are a continuum that doesn’t have to settle for the broken uni-verse where you were unraveled.
You, love, are not limited to your synonyms.
You can develop into a sandstorm speaking the names of the Saharas to your left and to your right.
a sandstorm that does not blind the sufi midnight traveler.
a sandstorm that travels beyond the desert.
a sandstorm carrying a water-well for the thirsty.
You can develop into an ocean that doesn’t stand in arrogance where there is land.
an ocean that waxes and wanes to the rhythm of the moonlight caressing you.
an ocean that doesn’t erode the rocks standing on its shore.
You can develop into a soft spring breeze that makes a home of all the other seasons.
a soft spring breeze that gently ****** through a baobab tree trunk.
a soft spring breeze that playfully tickles the arms of a nesma on her university bus writing this.
Kindly find attached to this letter the love your father has tucked in bed a long time ago and never double checked on it.
Kindly find attached to this letter the understanding your mother stored in the kitchen cabinet she is too short to reach.
Kindly find attached to this letter the forgiveness you have tried to grow out of sunflowers seed every winter.
Always sincerely,
Forever yours.
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 3:48 PM UTC
Smoke tokes out of the monkey's head, embers embellish empathic light enlightening gypsy nymphs from miles around, a glowing lighthouse haven heaven in nirvana massages lavender bubbles upon pores restoring strength to warriors of the rainbow tribe."
Wind rustles with us...
Stay grounded, you're found before you're even lost. Some get tossed and turned by the sea, but a smooth one never created a skilled pirate with third-eye versatile switch-blade heartbeat ink scribed on blood-vessel maps, following the soul tattoos and taboo time scars along with the azurite lightning stars shooting in our brain.
Time stops sometimes...
*Seasons change DNA re-arranges as we grow goin' with our own flow down the subconscious ocean, sometimes watchin' sunsets into a haze of sweet *** sweat and green cigarette peacetime sufi twirling our conscious to the north star crown chakra.*
Love is. Always.
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 4:12 PM UTC
My hungry lips started to talk
To your lips in language hungry,
As my tongue began to unlock
The well of your language sundry,
Necking your North African mounds;
Halting at your salving shell pink,
To sip and sup your winy words
And faint and wake and rise and sink
In the waking sleep of the tongues
Of your fire
To pen my un–Sufi desire
And die in the dunes of your body.
© LazharBouazzi
Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 6:25 PM UTC
Alexander of Macedonia this time
won’t U-turn from the might Gangaridai.
At the bubbling edge in the Indian subcontinent,
one would dare, taking his last plunge,
believing it here the proverbial Well of Life!
Yet Al Khwarizmi will discover the algebra,
drawing from ‘nothing,’ purely untouchable:
The Zero from the Indian pole.
Not a digit, not a number on its own, yet it’s all.
Every number jumps up in the zero loophole!
Then the whole number bows down into decimals,
escalating the hunts of the 1.618 golden ratios.
Plough through at your own pace
for the uncharted water, for ab-e-hayath.
Sip in a drop of elixir in this secured zone.
Sylhet is in the core, is written in stone.
What do these mean? I too wonder
down the line, I was intrigued by the Arab
and Indian tectonic plates’ slow dance.
Both rolled out, hugging each other
Then the Makkan soil lying at the heart of earth
gets exposed, with Sylhet’s soil it pairs up!
360 Sufi dynamos, mathematically a perfect circle,
find the match giving a perfect heads up
laid on the nine yard show the whole box of wax,
simply inking the vivo jump on the storylines.
What’s under the tectonic-rug at the bottom of the earth?
Shush softly, whisper—the heavens might hear it out!
Hold on to the least bit, it could be all one wants.
The earth, the ocean, all started with a drop of water!
Let alone any well, which way did this original matter,
the first, primeval drop of water stream down
Has this alleyway been exposed here, or in Paradise?
Then how can we say we don't have a secret for Paradise?
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 11:26 AM UTC
*
I chant your name in frenzy
Like a SUFI twirling round and round
LOVE, LOVE, BELOVED, BELOVED
Your name is like GOD
Ram, Allah, Buddha, Jesus
If you want to join me
In the life of LOVE
Chant with me
LOVE, LOVE.
BELOVED, BELOVED...
I carry sweets for my BELOVED
Wearing a long "LOVE robe"
Sing your praise
Jumping, dancing on the streets
With zest I meet passerby
You - my BELOVED
You are my gardener
I am your seed
I am your bud
I am your flower
I am your tree
I am the forest you walk into
In your LOVE
I utter gibberish
But only you understand it
And clap at my words with smile
I know, you'll protect me
At every step of life
Why I should take stress
Why I should be tense
Why should I worry
what world will say about me
I'm in LOVE
I'm with YOU in my being
In my thoughts, my words, my actions
I surrender to you
And leave it to you to protect me
You created me
As a LOVER
You are my maker
You are my GOD
I chant your name
With every breathe
I chant your name in frenzy
Like a SUFI twirling round and round
LOVE, LOVE, BELOVED, BELOVED
Your name is like GOD
Ram, Allah, Buddha, Jesus
If you want to join me
In the life of LOVE
Chant with me
LOVE, LOVE.
BELOVED, BELOVED...
When I pass by streets
I utter YOUR praise
I sing songs for YOU
Seeing me, people say:
"**Look - here she comes
This mad woman...**"
But without care,
I sing your LOVE
Intoxicated in your LOVE
I roll in the mud & sand
And cover my body with your dirt
In your LOVE
I have lost my gender too
I know, I've become YOU
I chant your name in frenzy
A SUFI twirling round and round
LOVE, LOVE, BELOVED, BELOVED
Your name is like GOD
Ram, Allah, Buddha, Jesus
Now I have give you
The strings of my life
In your hand
You made me fearless kid in LOVE
I know you'll protect me
I'm your kid in your LOVE
The suffering and pain
That GOD has given
Only my BELOVED will end my pain
I chant your name in frenzy
Like a SUFI twirling round and round
LOVE, LOVE, BELOVED, BELOVED
Your name is like GOD
Ram, Allah, Buddha, Jesus
If you want to join me
In the life of LOVE
Chant with me
LOVE, LOVE.
BELOVED, BELOVED...
People, Seeing my LOVE
Some places
They threw stone at me
Some showered flowers at me
But no one is willing
To give place in their heart
They are just guiding me
To my BELOVED's abode
This girl - a SUFI
Is roaming, walking
A wanderlust
Like dust storm
Like blizzard rain
Chanting your name
LOVE, LOVE.
BELOVED, BELOVED...
If you want to join me
In the life of LOVE
Chant with me
LOVE, LOVE.
BELOVED, BELOVED...
*
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 2:37 AM UTC
*
You are the whole universe of mine
You are me, and
All my LOVE is only for YOU
'If & When' you are there,
There is color in this universe
I can only see rainbows
When YOU are there in my heart
The cosmos plays a dance and
Tunes of music for YOU
Know, YOU live there, in my soul
The energies of the world
Flow through the skies and waters
Every thing in this world
Is lighted up with your presence
You are so beautiful that
Every eye that sees you
Desires you
There is no one comparable
There is no one like YOU
In the journey of my LIFE
I never thought, I will meet you
But there was that moment
That was the turning point of my LIFE
We met, and within a second
The entire universe of mine
Became 'YOU'
The entire life-story of mine
Became 'YOURS'
I left everything I had
I left all my purposes
To be in your LOVE
I left every materialistic search
To be part of your LOVE-SOUL
I became a wandering saint
Like a night star floating all over
I turn, swing and dance like a Sufi
YOU are playing the tune of my LOVE
Now you listen to the song of my LOVE
Now when we've met,
Now when I'm in your LOVE
Now when you know
I LOVE you madly
Why are you so silent?
Just tell me once,
Who are you to me?
Who am I to you?
MY eyes, smiles, body, breathe
Everything is BEING devoted to YOU
You listen with your heart
And tell me
Who are you to me?
Who am I to you?
*
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 12:18 AM UTC
Nor thou, Habib, nor I are glad,
when rosy limbs and sweat entwine;
But rapture drowns the sense and self,
the wine the drawer of the wine,
And Him that planted first the grape-
o podex, in thy vault there dwells
A charm to make the member mad,
And shake the marrow of the spine.
O member, in thy stubborn strength
a power avails on podex-sense
To boil the blood in breast and brain;
shudder the nreves incarnadine!
From me thou drawest pearly drink -
and in its pourings both are drunk.
The Iman drives forth the drunken man
from out the marble prayer-shrine.
Blue Mushtari strove with red Mirrikh
which should be master of the night-
But where is Mushtari, where Mirrikh
when in the sky the sun doth shine?
Now El Qahar to Hazif gives
the worship unto poets due : -
But songs are nought and Music all;
what poet music may define?
Allah's the atheist! he owns
no Allah. Sneer, thou dullard churl!
The Sufi worships not, but drinks,
being himself the all-divine.
Come, my Habib, the roses blush,
the waters gleam, the bulbul sings -
To pierce thy podex El Quahar's
urgent and and imminent design!
5.2k
Eyes are at rest, the stars are setting.
Hushed are the stirrings of birds in their nests,
Of monsters in the ocean.
You are the Just who knows no change,
The Balance that can never swerve,
The Eternal which never passes away.
The doors of Kings are bolted now and guarded by soldiers.
Your Door is open to all who call upon You.
My Lord,
Each love is now alone with his beloved.
And I am alone with You.
________
- Rabia al Basri
From Perfume of the Desert – Inspirations from Sufi Wisdom
Edited: A. Harvey and E. Hanut
3.9k
My hungry lips commenced to talk
To your lips in language hungry,
As my tongue began to unlock
The well of your language sundry,
Necking your North African mounds,
Halting at your salving shell pink,
To sip and sup your winy words
And faint and wake and rise and sink
In the waking sleep of your fire
To pen my Sufi desire,
And die in the dunes of your body.
© LazharBouazzi
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 6:26 PM UTC
In the twilight zephyrs
under milky way skies
I stroll beside my peacock plumed God
Along the banks of the Yamuna river
with captivating charm
He teaches me
the Language of Love
Honeybees buzz around us
even though the coral pink
sun has melted into a
puddle of nectar at
His silken lotus Feet
and all the flowers have
folded their drowsy petals
raven heavens raise their
ebony veils and a
chorus of rhapsodic stars
chant Krishna's glorious name
I feel His raincloud blue face
close to mine
lightning from His eyes
strikes my Soul
...and We dance...
A trillion psychedelic umbrellas
whirling, dazzling Sufi circles
beneath the Golden parasol
of God's enormous
Love
Share/Save
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 9:25 PM UTC
She seals the bag
full of melancholic songs-
The precious weapon in my
poetic arsenal,
And revives in me the desire
To sing a love song;
Should I write it
on her beauty,
Or on the virtues
she doesn’t count,
That her soul is truth a pious seeks,
Or something she is unacquainted
in her till now,
Or on the blushing cheeks,
Or parting lips,
Mystic eyes, or Sufi voice,
Or the nose-pin shining ablaze,
Or simply arrange the words
to summarize her sleeping face,
Should I write—
Stars fall to make her wish complete,
That sunflowers follow the direction
she moves,
That leaves loose bough
to have a close look, of her.
What should I write?
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 2:39 PM UTC
You picked me up
You laid me down
You put the pieces back together
You made me whole
You gave me light when I had none
You've helped me through
You've been at my side when things went rough
You've been my friend even when I wasn't the best one back
Because of you,
I play basketball
I know how to say food
I've healed faster
I'm not scared anymore
You are my true guardian angel and I thank you a thousand times for it.
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 7:03 AM UTC
I was on the way to pick her up,
was just about to cross a slippery slope
on the front yard of my in-laws’ home.
Forget how long it took me to cross,
Huh, I had to solve a riddle.
A Moon pops up halfway through,
right in my way, it just won’t move.
I said I don’t need any horoscope,
already married, I am not a groom!
She goes, I too don’t fancy fussing about.
The riddle I got is only an easy-peasy one.
Just tell me your W duo—Where and When
did you take your first breath?
I laugh, isn't it the mum who can tell best,
who saw it first when I was born
but I can't go back and ask her,
she won’t show up
unless I return home, picking her up.
I said to the moon, o dear,
never did I say you got a scar,
that a spot on your face is cute, fair,
is only a cool shadow of one’s
deep-rooted fine lock of hair!
I then ran to the expert scientist.
He said it’s all vibrating but knows not
where the heck, if ever the spin might stop.
Again I ran to knock on the Sufi’s door.
He seemed to know why I went there,
And said in a deep voice, “as far as I know,
you don’t have a sister-in-law!”
Again the moon asks, in a heavy tone
“Tell me the truth,” before it's too long,
I said you’re in my way,
“I am not asking for an acre of moon.
Spare me a digit gap if you could.”
Unlike how the lands on earth, she tells,
keep changing the hands,
owning the ultimate plot is still one’s dream.
But no space is left unmeasured in space.
You miss by a hairbreadth, no matter how tiny,
and you might as well miss it by the eternity.
So zero space can I spare says the moon
This is it, the dead end, no more room to move.
Still, even a closed circle can’t be close,
the smallest atom is not the smallest to be closed.
The constant spin inside it constantly finds
ever more space to move on, because the root
pi is cracked open, spills out a new decimal,
though none can pinpoint, in this finest loophole
the sky can sway and earth finds a mouth to jingle!
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 11:33 AM UTC
''A few words of my soul to my heart''
O' Jamil what you seek is a sea of love and not tiny streams
Waves of which will carry you to mystic craved dreams
You will need the light of Shams⒈, a heart of Rumi⒉ the great
And eyes of Iqbal⒊ to explore the love of divine that await
O' Jamil be prepared to sink deep below in waters of love
There is no reverting back thereafter to the world above
You will fade away as small particles in this sacred sea
Only then you will be intoxicated with essence of thee
✑
Notes:-
⒈ Shams, Shams-e-Tabrizi or Shams Al-Din Mohammad was a Iranian Sufi, mystic born in the city of Tabriz in Iranian Azerbaijan.
⒉ Jalal Ad-Din Muḥammad Balkhi also known as Jalal Ad-Din Muḥammad Rumi and popularly known as Mowlana but known to the English-speaking world simply as Rumi, he was a 13th-century Persian poet, jurist, theologian, and Sufi mystic.
⒊ Sir Muhammad Iqbal was a Persian and Urdu poet of Pakistan, philosopher and a politician who had great visions for humanity.
✒ ℐamil Hussain
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 4:10 PM UTC
She once was a funky unicorn--
we both midnight animals,
occasionally I'm a sufi moon baboon!
We wear cloud wind trousers--
surfing dusk persimmon & rose air,
laughing ecstatic dances as we rest.
Nighttime tricksters we are,
southern denim night blue ***** she sings,
peppermint thieves shadow-monkey sways in breeze...
Our gracious words of thankful creativity
dance in the wind,
lollygagging off into the sunset....
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 12:13 AM UTC
When you touch me
my joy loses it's voice
but comes out in sighs and happy cries
the blood beneath my skin
stops to savour your touch
and dances like a whirling sufi
under your starry skies
when my eyes meet yours
our hearts beats in rhythmic waves
like a melody that i crave
each vein of mine vibrates
like a harp string
pumping blood music
which makes me sing.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 12:49 PM UTC
She knew
Swallows would come in spring time
She went to college
she studied and was taught
then she understood
swallows would come in spring time
she became a Sufi
and practiced mysticism
then she understood
swallows would come in spring time
she became a master
and finally God revealed to her
swallows would come in spring time
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 2:40 PM UTC
A Sufi Cowboy
rides an incandescent star
gliding to the ground
pouring light like a shiraz
into his heart, he drinks bliss.
A Heavy Metal
Buddhist slamdances beyond
the shadow tree glades
nourishing the grass with tears--
her crying mediation.
Their eyes connecting
to echoed crystal heartbeats
of their higher selves.
He strikes a match across air,
flame kisses the dangling zoot.
Their eyes hold the gaze.
A mellifluous voice glows
from her, singing odes
of buzzing deja vu jazz
and gamboling dragon flies.
Cowboy & Buddhist
decide to share a few drinks
in the Cosmic Bar.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 8:13 PM UTC
I write to remember myself
as the gray groggy foggy world hisses static noises
the loud clouds with jagged glass edges look to shred.
Sometimes I don't even feel pieces stuck in my bleeding spirit--
leaking ancient memories of magical imagination lands
where genies, centaurs and shadowy demons threw parties
with me as as the effigy on a pyre.
I write to remind myself
of my gypsy campfire spirit of honest expression--
each written word strips away another layer of clothing
dancing, a **** psychedelic sufi with Rorschach wings
watercolor tattoos of musical grooves pour out from my throat
as the roaring noises of cult-ure's hymns billow
around with clash jangling crankling sounds.
I write to remember
echoed words from eons past
beating and breathing through me,
an infinity of laughing gasps gassing anxious neurons
screaming from the shattered shards of surrounding glass clouds--
reminding myself I can choose the reality.
I write so I'm not in a fugue of confused pain.
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 7:43 PM UTC
Oh Lord, nourish me not with love but with the desire
for love. IBN ‘ARABÎ
Not only the thirsty seek the water,
the water as well seeks the thirsty. RÛMÎ
Ecstasy is a flame which springs up in the secret heart,
and appears out of longing. PAUL NWYIA
Open your hidden eyes and return to the root of the root
of your own self. RÛMÎ
The inner truth of desire is that it is a restive motion in
the heart in search of God. AL-QUSHAYRÎ
excerpts from "Travelling the Path Of Love Sayings of Sufi Masters"
Apr 5, 2023
Apr 5, 2023 at 9:47 AM UTC
*
My beloved
The only One I LOVE
My epitome of divine
My embodiment of heaven
For me: You are omnipresent
Truly Truly Truly
I LOVE YOU
"So be it"
My Beloved
At your altar
Humbly I surrender my LOVE
May I, may my LOVE
Forever remain in YOU
Your heart and soul
My Beloved
You are my archetype of
TRUE LOVE
You give me strength
To continue LOVING YOU
With the same zeal & passion
Give me Compassion
On my eternal LOVE for YOU
Truly Truly Truly
I LOVE YOU
"So be it"
Inspired by Sufi tradition of LOVE
*
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 12:45 AM UTC