Category Archives: Gazel (longer poem)

From the Coast of the Sea of Soul (12/24/17)

From the Coast of the Sea of Soul (12/24/17)

O lovers, may all your drinks do you good.

May this world become for you a sugar mine.

 

O lovers, the sounds of the best wishes have ascended to the Throne.

This caravan has gone beyond the Earth and heaven. Continue reading

The Difference Becomes Obvious (12/10/17)

The Difference Becomes Becomes Obvious (12/12/17)

The best journey for me is the journey from existence to Absence.

Existence is the curtain that hides the land of Absence.

 

Existence is like water. Absence is the sweet sea.

When clean, pure water stays in ponds,

it turns into a swamp, becomes turbid, fetid. Continue reading

There is … No Remedy…Except You (11/26/17)

There is… No Remedy … Except You (11/26/17)

O my Life who adds Soul to my soul, lift the curtain.

O One who takes care of my grief, who is willing to stay with me all night long!

 

O One who hears my cries, timely and untimely!

O One who puts fire into every atom of my being! Continue reading

Absence Is for Heroes (11/12/17)

Absence Is for Heroes (11/12/17)

Once more, we have given up our heart, mind and soul.

The Beloved has come. We will stay out of the way.

 

We have turned our back on existence.  Our direction is Absence.

We have found the One whose trace is unseen.

We have given up the trace. Continue reading

Once Love Comes to Talk (10/29/17)

Once Love Comes to Talk (10/29/17)

The mind is a bondage to lovers and the ones on the journey, O son.

The road is clear, obvious if you break your ties, O son.

 

The mind is an impediment. The heart is a deception.

The soul is a curtain. The body is coarse.

The road is hidden because of all this heaviness, O son. Continue reading

Bees Don’t Make His Honey (10/15/17)

Bees Don’t Make His Honey (10/15/17)

Before wine, the vineyard or the grape ever existed in this world,

our soul was drunk with everlasting wine, with God’s wine.

 

Before this hide and seek,

before Mansur* said that secret word, made that subtle point,

we kept saying, “I am God,” in the Baghdad of this world. Continue reading

There Are Rose Gardens for Lovers (9/3/17)

The Rose Garden Inside of You (9/3/17)

There are rose gardens for lovers inside of those bloody fences.

There are so many other businesses for lovers thanks to the absolute beauty of Love.

 

The mind says, “There are six dimensions to the world of existence.

There is no road beyond those boundaries.”

Yet Love says, “Yes, there is. I have been back and forth many times. Continue reading

The Situation Is Not Like That (8/20/17)

The Situation Is Not Like That (8/20/17)

Between the darkness of sleep and the light of awakening,

in the dark of evening, I saw such a person!

 

He was a traveler with such a beautiful face, on his journey to the Holy Temple.

He was pure wisdom, the light of awareness. Continue reading

“You Are Not Mud. You Are This Gold.”(7/23/17)

“You Are Not Mud. You Are This Gold.” (7/23/17)

Don’t you see?

Thirst is telling water to go away. Hunger is turning its nose up at bread.

The tunnel is angry at the sun because it doesn’t want its light.

What a crazy, stupid, unfortunate situation this is. Continue reading

The Light of the Soul’s Mirror (2/19/17)

The Light of Soul’s Mirror (2/18/17)

Look. Look at Me carefully.

Know that I am a friend to you in your grave.

When you are away from the house or store,

I am the one who hangs around with you.

 

 

You hear My greeting in the grave,

although you have never been away from My eyes.

 

All those times you are happy and cheerful,

the times you are sad and in trouble,

I am inside of you, just like your mind and soul.

 

When you hear a familiar sound at night in a strange land,

know that you are secure from snake bites and troubles from ants.

 

The drunkenness of Love offers you wine in your grave,

lights a candle, offers appetizers, and burns incense for you.

 

When you light the candle of the mind,

what yells and screams in the cemetery come from death!

 

The soil of the cemetery becomes confused from these noises, this humdrum,

the beat of the drums of resurrection.

 

You tear your coffin; you plug your ears with fear.

What’s the use of brains or ears when they face the trumpet of resurrection?

 

Wherever you look, you see Me.

Whether you look at yourself or the crowd,

all you see is Me. Me.

 

Don’t be cross-eyed. Open both your eyes.

Look at Me nicely, because on that day,

poor eyesight will make My bright beauty look like it’s far, far away.

 

I appear human, but don’t ever make that mistake,

because the soul is very light, and Love is very tough, very jealous.

 

Never mind shape or form.

Even if I dress in felt, the cloak is still the light of the soul’s mirror;

it shines, becomes a flag, becomes apparent.

 

Beat the drum. Go to the musicians of the town.

The day of manifestation is for the voyager who is maturing on the path of Love.

 

If you hadn’t been after money and goods, if you had kept searching for God,

you wouldn’t see yourself in the coffin sitting next to a ditch.

 

You’ve set up such a house of informers in our town

that you’d better close your mouth now and be a silent informer, just like light.

Divan-i Kebir, Meter 7a, Gazel 125, Verses 1490-1504, Pages 30-341

 

The Smoke and Saliva of Thought (1/22/17)

The Smoke and Saliva of Thought (1/22/17)

If Love has the desire to embrace and kiss someone,

who could resist, my friend, who could?

 

When the Sultan goes hunting, the place where He hunts smiles.

But, when the Sultan becomes the hunt, what can you say to that? Continue reading