Sagacious words

Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary. ~ Khalil Gibran

Monday, 30 April 2012


I have come into this world to see this:
the sword drop from men's hands even at the height
of their arc of anger

because we have finally realized there is just one flesh to wound
and it is His - the Christ's, our

I have come into this world to see this: all creatures hold hands as
we pass through this miraculous existence we share on the way
to even a greater being of soul,

a being of just ecstatic light, forever entwined and at play
with Him.

I have come into this world to hear this:

every song the earth has sung since it was conceived in
 the Divine's womb and began spinning from
His wish,

every song by wing and fin and hoof,
every song by hill and field and tree and woman and child,
every song of stream and rock,

every song of tool and lyre and flute,
every song of gold and emerald
and fire,

every song the heart should cry with magnificent dignity
to know itself as

for all other knowledge will leave us again in want and aching -
only imbibing the glorious Sun
will complete us.

I have come into this world to experience this:

I have come into this world to see this:
the sword drop from men's hands
even at the height of
their arc of

because we have finally realized
there is just one flesh

we can wound.

 ~ Hafiz

Sunday, 29 April 2012

A Golden Compass

The eye sees the entire world
But it sees not its own life;
Therefore, keeping the two eyes cloOf the King's beggars -
Those gamblers, scoundrels and divine clowns
And those astonishing fair courtesans
Who need Divine Love every night.

Come, join the courageous
Who have no choice
But to bet their entire world
That indeed,
Indeed, God is Real.

I will lead you into the Circle
Of the Beloved's cunning thieves,
Those playful royal rogues -
The ones you can trust for true guidance -
Who can aid you
In this Blessed Calamity of life.

 Look at the Perfect One
At the Circle's Center:

He Spins and Whirls like a Golden Compass,
Beyond all that is Rational,

To show this dear world

That Everything,
Everything in Existence
Does point to God.

Saturday, 28 April 2012

“I” and “you” are but the lattices,
in the niches of a lamp,
through which the One Light shines.
“I” and “you” are the veil
between heaven and earth;
lift this veil and you will see
no longer the bonds of sects and creeds.
When “I” and “you” do not exist,
what is mosque, what is synagogue?
What is the Temple of Fire?  
- Shabistari

Thursday, 26 April 2012


A garden among the flames!
My heart can take on any form:
A meadow for gazelles,
A cloister for monks,
For the idols, sacred ground,
Ka'ba for the circling pilgrim,
The tables of the Torah,
The scrolls of the Quran.
My creed is Love;
Wherever its caravan turns along the way,
That is my belief,
My faith.
Ibn Arabi


Wisps of hair, performing ballet,

Framing the face turned upwards,

Lively air, alleviates the state of spirituality,

Under the giant tree, in regal segregation,

In the middle of the field, with it's majestic canopy,

The foliage dancing and singing noisily,

A stillness in time- for soothing contemplation,

A shelter of forgetfulness; from languor and acrimony.


Calm Ground

Soft snow carpeting
Pure; united
Landscapes, offer
Calm ground, upon
Which to find space;
Icy footsteps.

I have been thinking

I have been thinking ...
I have been thinking of the difference between water
and the waves on it. Rising,
water's still water, falling back,
it is water, will you give me a hint
how to tell them apart?
Because someone has made up the word
"wave," do I have to distinguish it
from water?
There is a Secret One inside us;
the planets in all the galaxies
pass through his hands like beads.
That is a string of beads one should look at with luminous eyes.


Wednesday, 25 April 2012


Like the dancing of a surrealist-
The highs and lows of laughter and fear-
Of joyous moods the passing phases-
To cruel and kind seasons, always alive-
A letting go of cynicism
Towards a nature of propagation-
Nothing, yet understanding everything.

Between Nothingness and Eternity

Barren of events,
Rich in pretensions
My earthly life.
My real name.
Wholly unto myself
I exist.
I wrap no soul
In my embrace.
No mentor worthy
Of my calibre
Have I.
I am all alone
Between failure
And frustration.
I am the red thread
And Eternity.

Sri Chinmoy

Tuesday, 24 April 2012

Distinguishing Ego from Self

All that is limited by form, semblance, sound, color is called object.
Among them all, man alone is more than an object.
Though, like objects, he has form and semblance,
He is not limited to form.
He is more.
He can attain to formlessness.
When he is beyond form and semblance, beyond "this" and "that,"
where is the comparison with another object?
Where is the conflict?
What can stand in his way?
He will rest in his eternal place which is no-place.
He will be hidden in his own unfathomable secret.
His nature sinks to its root in the One.
His vitality, his power hide in secret Tao. 

Chuang Tzu

Monday, 23 April 2012

Surviving Aura

Praying eyes catch the glinting sun under skies,
Angry and swollen with the promise of violent storms,

Leave alone old whispers and listen to defiant cries
That talk of surviving auras found in the remains of chaos,

As a chorus multiplies in sympathy with every aura that dies,
We roll with the rage and try to liberate the spirit with empathy,

The oneness of truth and of the being and knowing always lies 
In a decisive agreeing and an acceptance towards growing.


Of the worn down,
From the staunchest-
To the dumbed down-
For the hardest-
To the tenderest-
To the survivors;

From the lovers-
For the lost,
Who represent-
One half of the World,
With less than half of
The worldly power.


Psychotic Inclinations

These fickle idylls, shattered and battered,
By psychotic inclinations of self destruction-
Inglorious afflictions that leave tattered,
Tenderised cures of hard line interpretations.

A likeness to a whirlwind of fatal sadness-
Always born from the shadows of a happy past-
And tied to calm skies that betray a deep madness-
Are the Paradoxes that highlight what it's all about,

Suffocated conformists who learn how to rebel,
Against the universal assault of raw pains,
As hidden horrors are resisted enough, to enable,
Everyday games which allow small, snatched gains,

Mixed up signal storms which wreak mind games;
The armoured divisions of every crippled shame-
As out of oblivion and into a seething destruction,
Are words fired to disable any healing redemption,

This is the frenzy of all obfuscations that express-
The cyclical poisoned ilk of alien, killer others;
And the maiming and ignoring of souls in distress-
Is the raging torment in hearts disconnected to each other.


Dreams on Fire

The glowing rush of dreams on fire,
As the passionate reactions of the innocent
And incredulous the remnants of harmony-
Expelled as despair in situations of sickening distrust-
Make for mixed up emotions of distress and fearlessness.


Sunday, 22 April 2012

Dream Chasing

Hurting all along the way
But the heart is soft
And in odd places,
It is that faith is born,
Despite the rage of it all.

The lies and the hurt are betrayed,
In all the spirals of loss,
As the reality of dream chasing spaces,
Is within hopes born;
Despite the fright of the freefall.

Amongst a terrifying fray,
We implore to trust,
To ignore not the pained faces
And in the midst of a bloody storm,
Urge the heart-call to peaceful change.

- J.Bibi

Saturday, 21 April 2012

Circles of Destruction

The Spouting of much rotten words wholesale,
fail to comprehend,
the gathering storms of resistance everywhere-
From things rendered,
Invisible of reality, relevance and legitimacy-
To the enormity of,
The nothingness of drowned, pestiferous news.
When brave hopes,
In the face of non-compliance against abuses,
Are brushed away,
Conveniently put into irrelevant files of 'ignore.'
When the skies bleed,
A harsh light onto murdered and lifeless evidence,
And greedy men,
Are empowered by the powerful on a scale, wholesale,
The devastation-
Of incited conflict and the fire storms created en-mass,
Leave consequences,
Even in distant lands of peace and non-comprehension,
Exploitations for wealth,
Often leave smoke and flames, which cause blowback.

Soul song

This explosion-
This intensity,
The fireworks spiral out into the darkness.

In conclusion-
The audacity,
In the depths of golden promises, a sadness.
In opportune moments, that gather to cover-
As the notes of the soul-song,
Break and fly out, into the wild ways of madness.


Chasm of Eternity

To see the light
Through eyes of faith
In the darkest of nights
Is the work of the heart
For every soul,
A chasm of eternity
Within its depths does hold
Of fallen people and their tears
In their hopes and their fears
Is a limelight in the most
Squalid and unexposed
Theatres of change.
Where gossiping ways
Always mask and shield
Blisters of shame,
The skills of listening
And the gifts of understanding
Are the only things to destroy pain.
The walk of life's rope,
Rests on the balance between
Fickle exteriors and antidotes
And even more fragile inner worlds
Which are held together
By mere intentions and words.

- J.Bibi

Thursday, 19 April 2012


Blinding sunshine.

And psycho-structures of
Environments and scaffolding,

Which permit
A release of

Peaceful moods,
To enjoy a time
The happiness of living.


So Called Perfection

Crawling along broken paths,
The cripples and beggars-

No, not the challenged
Or impoverished people
But Different types of 
Humanity, to be found-
Everywhere in the world, 
Externally imposed traits
Of an inferiority accepted
And also self-segregated
Versions of superiority 
And civility; the results of 
Pursing so called perfection...

J. Bibi

Wednesday, 18 April 2012

Car Crash

Those and them in the pits and burning fields of how and when-

Far away islands surrounded by crystal blue oceans and skies,
Become developed and distinguished lands of accomplishments

At breakneck speed the car crash scenario continues so faithfully
On an option-less and unavoidable eternal road of necessity-

Not seeing, a means to enjoyment but a closer brush with reality

Sleep gently without the weight or harness of responsibilities

Fearful life oblivious to the loss of fearlessness in abundance-
In wonder and in awe, the light that blinds is the light that finds.

The those and them in pits and burning fields know well the price
As the lands of accomplishment grow reckless with affluent vice,

The darkness and the light of civilisations in growth and in decline.


Dreams in freefall-
Calm the nerves of doubt,
The realms of despair and hope-
Wipe each other out,
Hear furious pain;
The soul screams and shouts.


Tuesday, 17 April 2012

Metal Beaten

A full license to freedom comes from within strong dreams;
In an awe forever beginning and the magic of moonbeams-

The bright sun of defiance burns and melts into rivers ice cold
And so it is, that a soul is beaten to become a pure metal of olde.

Fears awakened into hopes, quench the shores of parched sands,
And relinquish the truths of despair and faith, to fill fate's hands.

A myriad of contests against that comprehensive kismet's glare,
Of injustice overcome through defiance and a resisting stare;

Begin to follow ever forward the imprints of a future to come-
Moving deliberately, ever onwards, as is the soul-song of some.

- J. Bibi 

In Defeat

The end of every game,
Signals the start of new play:

Once the parapets of the castle are breached-
Defeat is known to some in a strange land
And as the final call made at dawn reveals,

Every death leads to a new phase of life,
In memory or in pain, in defiance or in shame
Sombre in moods of realism and inspired at heart-

Grieving with madness through the art of hate,
Insidious energy seeping through to contaminate;
Learn to be well instead of a mighty foe or friend.

J. Bibi


Of tears flame-heated and prone to resistance,

May the well of weariness run dry-
And the disease of pain disappear-

Of chasing well-being and forlorn insistence-

May the kiss of kismet never give cause to cry-
And give sight of better days to appear.


Monday, 16 April 2012


Standing in line
To become valid subjects,
Under the breath
At the colours of change
Outrage and indignation
At differences;
A listening rebel
Breaks away incensed-
And causes an even greater outcry-
Frustration speaks in rebellion,
 I belong here!
Derision speaks in dismissal,
'Well then get into line-
Don't you know civilised people queue?!'

- J.Bibi

Flickers of Wisdom

The lights go out in the darkest hours, 
Just at the greatest point of real need,
Sometimes the wants obscure the power
Of what is good and what not to heed,

The darkness is destroyed by the glow from within- 
Which shines when the inner suffocation begins-
Belittled and diminished self recognition causes-
Self disappearance in the chaos of violent forces,

Warm fires provide sustenance in landscapes of bitterness-
Frozen paths are only made passable by what you know,
Weak flickers of wisdom are obscured in the wilderness-
By shadows of size which need shades of ignorance to grow.

J. Bibi

Ingrained Blockades

Grieve and celebrate,
In defiance,
As lightening
On darkened nights,

Over the walls
Of separated realities,
And lying fears,

Overcome the
Ingrained blockades-
To the notions,
Of a shared humanity.

~ J.Bibi

Saturday, 14 April 2012

Can I help it?  That I look, see and think, the way that I do?
No, long and hard have I pondered and the conclusive conclusion, is that I cannot.

People see, exactly what they want to see.  Exactly what ever, keeps life 'just so'.  The systems and structures, that enable and secure, what ever is comfortable.  Comfortable, is a value-laden word.  It means, many things, to many people.  What makes me comfortable?  D'you know, I'm not sure.  I know a lot, that much I do confess but whether that is worth anything, is highly debatable.

I knew people, who always seemed to be, on fire.  Seems as if it was contagious. 'To be, is to do', so many people live by that.  'To do, is to be' and so many others by that.  I wonder, have often wondered, what about me.  Can't say either is true for me.  Can say, at some time, one or the other is. I do wonder also, about these philosophical confrontations, that I seem to encounter, every single day.  It's quite disheartening actually.  It seems that there are, as ever predominantly, two types of people- the conformists and the rebels.  How I hate those labels.  I am both and I am neither.  I hate that when people fight, or when they befriend- more often than not, the 'matrix' that enables them, is so clearly visible.  It beggars belief.  And they pull, it would be so funny if it wasn't so tragic.  It seems, might is right.  The mightier the pull, the more righteous the philosophy.  Except that's not 'correct', is it?  It might be, temporarily, to give security and hold on to sanity but no- it's not actually.  How complex we humans are.  By that virtue, how magnificent.  By that vice, how very pathetic.

I wonder about the stars at night that cover the cesspits of human existence.  I wonder about the superficial stars of the artificial day in our modern world.  I'm so on the wrong path; thinking in such a simple way, will get you killed in today's sophisticated world.  The lights that shine, do so because to be, is to do.  The shining of the lights- because to do is to be.  What you see is what you get and what you get is what see and suffer the fools who disagree.  Life shouldn't be strictly about absolutes.  Strict absolutes, go against intrinsic human nature, well that's my assertion.  Not that the 'movers and shakers' would ever concede to such a thing.  That is dis-empowering.  Liars.


Shared humanity,
Is cared for humanity;
Work towards 
The goals of others-

Ignore the plight 
Of brothers and sisters;
Systems of civility, which
Promote lethal apathy.


Sometimes in life, 
Even as the tears flow freely;
The heart smiles warmly, 
With the force of the sun-
And with a happy face,
Beneath which the heart breaks;
A complex mountain of emotions- 
Covered in simplistic norms-
Is that eternal light that shines-
To let the world become alive.

The smiles, laughter and even tears of pain;
Are the moments that renew life once again;

The determination to excel in every state of failure-
As offered by fate, as the motions of effect in wonder,

Anguish and noble retribution-in which lies all of validation-
In reality and juxtapositions, so necessarily from imagination.


Friday, 13 April 2012

Raw Compulsion

Savage, are the vacuous shouts of merit-less and blind actions,
Competitiveness from factions,which sometimes bring about,

All out death and destruction; hardened nerves of combustion-
Belie shy hopes and hidden fears, expressed in frustrated tears,

From propped national saviours and duped peasant behaviours;
The indomitable spirits often of revolutionaries must become,

The noted mutineers against grief and against rigid authoritarian beliefs,
As well as the tired mechanical thoughts which are set free by nature,

Teaching through affliction and confinement, about infinite laws of resistance;
From it all is born a stubborn insistence, which is focused on a horizon afar,

The explosions of raw compulsion and the wasted and wanton striving
Of human conditions, create the driving forces of dynamic changes.

J. Bibi


Light the way and cry for the madness;
The guile of deceivers and the freshness of honesty-
Alternating realities that define sanity;
Finding a space to stand in and speak from-
Realisations of inner sanctuaries, in times of confusion.



Within carved weaponry revealed in abandonment,

The hearsay of eyes wide open in blindness,

Amongst rigorous and mild notions of enactment,

A cruise through concealed, livid lines of suppression,

In sensory minds, of encompassed rebellion:

Is the creation and implementation of lives of fullness.

- J.Bibi

Resistance Burns

As noble words so fine,
Create moments that shine,
And kindness from strangers,
Brings hope and an atonement-
As light becomes stronger,
And memories of torment,
Are left in the old distance
Let it burn, the resistance.
In the hearts of the seeing,
Let wondrous times survive-
As if and when, knowing is believing,
To move forwards and thrive,
Is to grow despite all the deceiving.

- J. Bibi

The Hanging Garden of Babylon

In Babil province, Iraq
And for the neighbours
Of an oil-rich terrain
The child is tortured-
A human body is skinned
And yet there is,
The rapture in death
Of glory in conquering
And misery in conquest-
Relief at the end of suffering
And real life enlightenment;
From voices of learning
Are heard the lessons
Inside the echoing laments
Of our invisible ancestors.

- J.Bibi (2012)

Thursday, 12 April 2012

Dreams and Screams

Amidst the making of the chaos,
Filmed to distract, deceive and conquer, 
The gullible, lost in the darkness, 
Enable ghosts to move-
Enable dreams and screams, 
To fly and quietly die- 
Where the golden sun, 
Shines in fields of unseen nightmares
Exiled and interwoven into eternity,
By the racket of war;
Barking dogs and shrieking hawks,
All circle their prey under blue skies.


Tuesday, 10 April 2012

Brought to Life

Where arid mountains grow into lush landscapes-
When the horizon comes closer than ever-
Without burning and blinding,

Where reaching so far but getting just close,
Is enough of an achievement,
Where birdsong can be heard by the deaf 
And the frost of a cold day is thawed into a safe embrace, 
Where the broken heart heals into a shiny dream 
And the last to stagger home are welcomed as the first; 
This is the place, where the dreams of the dead are brought to life.


Sunday, 8 April 2012

War Garden

The sleeping buds lie still, for stillness is peace-
The furore in gardens where flowers lay shredded-
Typhoons of rage, created through gusting ignorance;
On the trail of a scent, misconstrued as the gift of blooms-
Are petals fallen; from the breeze of discontent and injustice.



What are the chances
Of an Islamic
Take-over of 
The world?
A hell of a lot, 
If you listen to the
Rantings of the
what's the reality though?

People are crying, 
Dying for 
that basic of
All amenities,
And yet there
Are people
Regularly hold
'food fights',
Stand, as accusers and
Rebellion and uprising....

And there are
The people then,
Who have been
Led to insanity
By the hypocrisies 
And then they too, 
Turn to murder 
And extreme control....

What about-
All the innocents,
The ones stuck
In between?
We're doomed...
We stand up and
At least...
To speak out.


Saturday, 7 April 2012

Killers and Thieves

In these intricate webs,
The lies that control
Shape everything
That is whole-
In the terrifying
Roads that lead
To redemption, 
The choices made
Reflect, spiritual 

And thus the killers 
Of joy and the
Thieves of faith,
Promote the insanity
Of blind religion,
Alongside the
Loss of innocence;
The wary walk
Cautiously with
Humble introspection.


Friday, 6 April 2012

A Road And A Bridge

There is a a road and a bridge 
Which need to be travelled upon,
For on every other side of,
Complacency and frustration,
Is peace and contemplation.
Battle wounds give constant struggle;
To submit and commit to the giving in-
To the external forces of the world,
Or to seek and discover the calm-
Of the internal forces of the soul?


'What needs to be said' by Günter Grass

Why I am silent, silent for too much time,
how much is clear and we made it
in war games, where, as survivors,
we are just the footnotes.

That is the claimed right to the formal preventive aggression
which could erase the Iranian people
dominated by a bouncer and moved to an organized jubilation,
because in the area of his competence there is
the construction of the atomic bomb.

And then why do I avoid myself
to call the other country with its name,
where since years – even if secretly covered -
there is an increasing nuclear power,
without control, because unreachable
by every inspection?

I feel the everybody silence on this state of affairs,
which my silence is slave to,
as an oppressive lie and an inhibition that presents punishment
we don’t pay attention to;
the verdict “anti-Semitism” is common.

Now, since my country,
from time to time touched by unique and exclusive crimes,
obliged to justify itself,
again for pure business aims - even if
with fast tongue we call it “reparation” -
should deliver another submarine to Israel,
with the specialty of addressing
annihilating warheads where the

existence of one atomic bomb is not proved
but it wants evidence as a scarecrow,
I say what must be said.

Why did I stay silent until now?
Because the thought about my origin,
burdened by an unclearing stain,
had avoiding to wait this fact
like a truth declared by the State of Israel
that I want to be connected to.

Why did I say it only now,
old and with the last ink:
the nuclear power of Israel
threat the world peace?
Because it must be said
what tomorrow will be too late;
Because - as Germans and with
enough faults on the back -
we might also become deliverers of a predictable
crime, and no excuse would erase our complicity.

And I admit: I won’t be silent
because I had enough of the Western hypocrisy;
Because I wish that many will want
to get rid of the silence,
exhorting the cause of a recognizable

risk to the abdication, asking that a free and permanent control
of the Israel atomic power
and the Iran nuclear bases
will be made by both the governments
with an international supervision.

Only in this way, Israelis, Palestinians, and everybody,
all people living hostile face to face in that
country occupied by the craziness,
will have a way out,
so us too.

Wednesday, 4 April 2012

'Allah divided mercy in to to 100 parts and he kept 99 parts with himself,and sent down one part on the earth,and because of that one single part,his creation are merciful to each other,so that even the mare lifts up its hoof away from its calf, lest it should trample on it.'(Bukhari)

Just imagine the mercy one mother has for her child- and then multiply it by all the mercy of mothers that have ever lived: We humans can do that, even when we are as far away from it as we could be.