Best Islamic Poems | Poetry

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The Best Islamic Poems

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SMILE AT A MUSLIM

These are just a few words about reality,
as Muslims struggle each day with individuality.

What is a Muslim and from whence does he come?
Like you and me, he is born into the world. because of two someone's.

Many of us grew up knowing prejudice in life,
I was gangly, naive, ever given to strife.

Raised as a Christian I never knew what it meant,
As my Muslim friend, how people could vent. 

My younger years were spent playing baseball you see,
They were a team of Puerto Ricans, not one Muslim to be.

My Polish heritage was always the butt of a joke,
It was infinitely small, compared to a Muslim's yoke.

My parent's generation was prejudiced in mind,
To Blacks, and Jews, Hindus, Muslims, Hispanics and people of all kind.
 
I, being naive, never even recognized the strife,
to which these peoples had been subjected to in life.

From experience I learned to treat each person individually,
slowly finding out that that was how they treated me.

Oh, I can say I've met both good and bad,
and the underlying theme is all so sad.

For it seems that we put labels to people like cans of beans,
stick them on a shelf, never tasting their means.

But once you open that can and taste the fare,
you may very well find yourself going back there.

We have our share of detractors in this world of our choice,
but Muslims are not the ones against whom we should give voice.

They are as decent, hard working, and loving as you or me.
They only want what is best for their family.

I pray to my Christian God for Muslims though they know it not,
because they are people that He has not forgot.

Words between man and God are private you see,
that is what connects man to his Deity.

But in every society there is always some remark made aloud,
about how this group or that group has no right to be allowed.

What, I wonder, gives them the right to speak that thought?
Unless it was the freedoms for which this country fought.

And I am sure that the Muslims fought with us too,
so they could have an American dream or two.

So, I think I'll stay in my own naive little way,
and keep those prejudices well at bay.

I won't care whether the next person is Red or Yellow, Black or White,
I won't care if he's Hindu or Christian, Jewish or Zen on sight.

Yes, I'll like the next Muslim I see,
I'm going to smile at them, and I bet they smile back at me!



















Copyright © Dan Cwiak | Year Posted 2017


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Islam is Peace

I'm a Muslim whose voice remains unheard.
Peace was the first thing I eagerly learned.
Peace, the world's main hope and ambition,
 Is the ultimate goal and name of my religion. 
"Peace be upon you" is my all-time greeting
To everyone I run into or see at a meeting.
Love, the world's greatest aim and ambition,
Is the be-all and end-all of my religion.
Our Prophet once said, "Shall I tell you what to do
to find love, let there be peace among you?"
Let there be peace and love will grow.
Faster and stronger than all we know.
Islam is peace that leads to love
If peace is there, so will be love. 

15/12/2015


Copyright © OMAR JABAK | Year Posted 2015


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ONE THOUSAND AND ONE BOMBS ON BAGHDAD

We were accustomed to read one thousand 
And one night in Baghdad...
Tonight the glorious city-sky is sad,
It sounded bang! Bang 
Where is my mummy? Where is my dad?
Are they all alive under the cruise wreckage;
Or are they all dead?
The a ‘Rashid city was weeping,
It rained hatred,
It rained prejudiced,
It rained cactus of different shapes,
They're all aliens, 
Some were homemade,
They're all colourful,
In blue, in yellow and in red.
Do you still remember brother?
Because if you don't I still do
What the big Satan, Lucifer what he said!
The cross versus the crescent, take it or leave it,
An entire racism by the media was also fed.
Some hidden in a banker,
Others crawling of hunger,
Others demonstrating with anger,
Pale, yellowish faces they all looked bad.
Where is my nation..My Arabity..My Islam ?
Oh...Mutasamahh! Where are my brothers?
Are they all dead???
They called it precise bombing and it was right indeed,
In the heart of the baby-heart 
Like the British game of dart,
The arrow hit its target,
It hit it like mad.
Nobody moves a finger,
In the age of Patriot and Stinger,
They all believe in star-wars, economic prosperity, 
They all believe in the Pope, pop-star singer,
They all believe that one-day Allah would side with them to defeat, 
The neo-Thamud and Aad,
They're all waiting for the coming future Mahdi,
And for the Armageddon battle to be led.  


Copyright © Abder Derradji | Year Posted 2015


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THE KORAN

THE KORAN


The Koran we see is
a holy book,
You can read it 
indoors, when you 
start to cook.
The holy Islam it
shares with you - 
The Koran we hear - 
is so very true.

Praise the Koran
as life goes on,
And Islam shall
pray and smile
to the sun.
The holy earth
is praising the
Sudan,
As some of us
read the holy
Koran.

Bless the Islam
as our son of
peace,
As the sea of
life fills the world
with ease.
Islam and the 
Koran - are as one,
no need to run.
Just praise the Koran
under the sun.

Islam is a prayer,
to all true believers,
In our lives we
lead - including
the sinners.
Blessed are the
salvation - who
always will span;
'We all welcome
peace - as written
in the Koran.'

BY
DARRYL ASHTON


Copyright © Darryl Ashton | Year Posted 2015


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Religion, The Elite, One Percent, The Psychology, How It Began

They say God is the saviour, they mean God is the creator.
The creator of Satan, guaranteeing us no safe haven.

God lives in heaven. Heaven is  nice and pleasant.
Satan lives in hell, Gods creation for the evil punishment.

Both are a place that are eternal.
So if you live for 60 years and are horrible, then billions of years is the sentence.

This holy book may make Heaven become possible.

There is no leaving Hell you suffer forever.
Heaven is sublime, a place for all time.
All you have to do is please God and be good,
what God wants is in this Holy book.

If you can't read fear not, this house of worship will tell you what God demands, and what you are to do.
We can save you from Hell if you do what we tell!

Now, if you had no education,
and before the last 200 years you would not have had an education, you would have no knowledge except experience.

All your knowledge about life would be.
1. God made us and this place
2. You will leave this place and
2a. Forever be happy
2b. Forever be tortured
3. These people have a book from God and can help you get to Heaven, 
4. You will go to Hell if you don't please God.

Within this knowledge we have a built in fear.
The origin of emotional blackmail.
Uneducated and not developed intellectually you don't think this is a plan, a plan is too complicated.
The human brain was, and to an extent still is very limited.
You are only able to workout your own desired outcome, Heaven.

So in fear you commit, and do anything that House of Worship with Gods book wants.
If they want something you get it.
If they say do something you do it.
The fear within you causes you to offer yourself as a slave.

Religion is a result of this psychology, taking advantage of those without the foresight. 

Scare them, offer to save them, OWN them.

ALL religion is man made. No religion has been guided by God or been given a Holy book.
If you're able to have a hold on people, you have servants, slaves and status.
Nobody will challenge you, you can directly control people for your own benefit.
Luxury is what you get.

Religion is fraud and emotional blackmail. It's the perfect lie with mind control and it makes slaves.
At the other end, an Elite have direct control over human behaviour, thoughts, set a price to be paid, control the community.

This system is the human blueprint for control. 
Religion, Politics, Business work like this.
Democracy and Communism come from it.

Religion is evil disguised as Holy.
This is what it set out to do.


Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2018


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RELIGIOUS TRAIN TO PEACE

There's a Train
Going to Peace Station.
Christians, Buddhists,
Hindus, Atheists,
Each occupied a Compartment,
But never Bothered one another,
Just like the Two Rails of the Track
That Travel Together but Never Meet.
Everyone's Ticket is to Peace,
They traveled in Communities and
Their Compartment Number
Never really mattered.

Then came budding Islam,
Who wanted their own Engine, Though
They are Destined to the Same Station.
They made an Exact Replica of the Train,
Their 'Fight' for Peace overshadowed
Their Destination and they Launched
Their Train on the Same Tracks,
But in the Opposite Direction.
Compartments filled with Innocent Followers,
but Engines Piloted by Terrorists
And Religious Leaders.
They only Focused on Increasing
The Number of Compartments
To gain Strength and Accelerated
As Fast as they Can.

But One Thing They Failed to Realize is,
No matter how Long the Train is,
On Collision, Whole Train Derails,
Killing Innocent Passengers, on Both Trains.


Copyright © Harshath Vidheya | Year Posted 2017


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My Father Your Father Our Father


My Father  Your Father Our Father

My guardian and protector from the evils of deception
I thrive in your presence by learning from your correction
The past present and future, you are the connection
My life has purpose, when others see your reflection

I lift my hands to the “Ancient of days.”
Allow me to walk in the counsel of your ways.
Accept my offering as I give you praise.
Let my tongue be honourable in every phrase.

I have strayed from the path, that you gave
Without you I’m destined for the grave
To my desires I’ve been a slave
Transform my weakness, please make me brave.

I am unworthy, I know it is true
Nothing in this world compares to you
Seeing through your eyes the world in new
You are perfection in all that you do.


Some seek to find you, through the words of the Koran
Others choose the Bible  to learn of your plan
My understanding is finite for I am just a man
Help me to be humble, please reveal all you can

Fulfill my desire exchange bitter for sweet
At the waters of baptism we shall meet
My direction each step please guide my feet
You give me breath you make my heart beat.


  
This piece was created with my friend and Poet Mohammad Imtiaz. A praise poem from a Muslim and Christian Perspective.








Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2018


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The Jerusalem War Between Boys

The soldiers said
That the boy threw a grenade.
The parents of the boy said
That the soldiers planned to kill him.
This is what happens

When one person
Believes that another person
Is but an animal,
And not human.
People will self-fulfill as animal

And it’s much easier to kill
An animal,
Especially when you are an animal.
So, this is what really happened that day-
Both sides were right.

The boy walked down the street,
Before dawn, and saw the soldiers,
Who were walking on egg shells
With fear and expectation,
(Of course, they were mere boys themselves).

When the boy saw them look his way,
He reached into his basket
And threw a fresh egg
In their direction.
The boy’s face had just a split second

To crack a small smile
Before the bullet
Shattered his face
And skull
And the soldier

Was left with egg on his face
As well, but unfortunately,
Just a split second after he fired the shot.
So, eggs are grenades.
Boys are killers.

And that is when the cock crows
Between boys
In a Jerusalem morning.


Copyright © Robert Trezise Jr. | Year Posted 2018


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The Greatest One

Oh! the greatest one,
The only I believe in,
Than friends I meet everyday

Your existence in silence, 
In the deepest hearts

Earth, galaxies and great creations
Leading scientist to compete
Interpret yours into queuing puzzles 
In voyage of million light years

I only see and read your signs
Through your trusted people and holy books
Never be in competition
But I believe in supreme you
Than logic and them
Oh! the greatest one


Copyright © nur holis | Year Posted 2015


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The Land Of Promise

Often called the land of promise,
Mindanao my native land,
Her soil wet  with innocent blood, 
The promises many but few are done, 
     
Here stealth cunning warriors,
Are professed men of God,
Their decency turns refute,
For shedding innocent blood,
      
Anxiety pierced deep in our hearts,
Even at calm starry nights, 
Anytime in the city or the woods,
Barking guns shimmering lights,

Is there hope for tomorrow?
Will our wailing cease?
Will our children and their offsprings,
Have the chance to live in peace?


Copyright © joselito asperin | Year Posted 2006


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To Be Muslim

I cover myself.
They ask, "Why, are you ashamed?"
I say, "No. I'm proud."


Copyright © Cameron Hartley | Year Posted 2014


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The Wandering Yogi

??? ???? ?????? ??????

The Wandering Yogi 

From city to city, from every  town to town
Catching every smile to smile, every frown to frown.
His allegiance goes to the exalted one, not any nobility nor the crown.
The mysterious venture itself is a compass – forever trailing up and down. 

He vision’s more to the sandstorm than just the sands might. 
What he really seeks is the commandeering winds, hidden from man’s sight. 
For he is like a moth, forever trying to follow the mystical light. 
A servant of humanity, here to douse out ones fiery plight. 

The mystical light to him, is like the sweet essence of nectar to a bee
His journey has no fragrant flower to guide the way, only his heart must see.
The burden of Caste, Creed and Colour cannot weigh him down – forever he is free.
These bitter ingredients are for his pestle and mortar, mixed together to serve he. 

Always alert, always ominous. Wary of the treacherous thorns. 
Even the smallest prickle can poisonously permeate – towards the path of the one with horns. 
Decorating his path to God for others to follow – moving on as he adorns. 
And for those who have permanently set their ship astray – he shall set up half mast, for he mourns. 

From sunrise to sunset. From a healthy youth to a venerable age.
Adhering to his spiritual principals. A beacon of knowledge – a mystical sage. 
Until he reaches his beloved, his only shelter against this life is faith and a hermitage. 
Walking steadfast on an arduous journey of pain and languish – travelling away from life’s cage.  The Wandering Yogi.


Feedback would be great!


Copyright © Naushahi Naushahi | Year Posted 2014


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Pretty

I am pretty. 
I know, because everyone says so.

I am so pretty that
Hoodies and lack of makeup
Translate as showing off
Natural beauty- as confidence
In the fact that everyone
Will love me,
Instead of disinterest...

I am so pretty that
Boys ask how old I am,
And say, "Too bad..."
Because I'm under 18.

I am so pretty that
My boyfriend doesn't like
To kiss me in public
Because everyone stares
At the Hispanic boy
With- The nerve!-
To touch a white girl-
And a pretty white girl,
No less!

I am so pretty that
Any boy will flirt with me 
And when I remind them
That I have a boyfriend,
They protest,
"But you're so pretty!"

I am so pretty that
When my best friend,
A Muslim girl,
Taught me how to wear
A hijab, 
People asked why
Would I ever cover up;
They would say,
"But you're so pretty!"

I am so pretty
That I know I could never
Say that I feel lonely-
People would just say,
"But you're so pretty!"

I am so pretty that
When I'm upset,
People will tell me,
"But you're so pretty...
You, know that, right?"

Yeah. I know.


Copyright © Cameron Hartley | Year Posted 2014


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Chamirynn

Kamirynn is pretty
And Chance is very awesome
Chance loves Kamirynn


Copyright © KamirynnAnd Chance | Year Posted 2015


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Dozakh aur Sharab



  Dozakh aur Sharab.........


Tere laboan ka rang mile ga gulaab mein
Teri nigah e naaz ka  nasha sharaab mein  

Mil jaye gar woh aik baar mujh ko khwaab mein
Rakh doon ga dil ko cheer ke unki janaab mein 

Dozakh mein mil rahi he mujhe peene ki saza
aatish bharak rahi he suboo-e-sharaab mein

Behre tashaffi aaen ge Muhammad e Mustafa
Bakshe gunah jayen ge roz e hisaab mein

Dil ki kitaab band na krna kabhi ay dost,
parhna likha hua he jo  roshan kitab mein

Moosa ko gadriye ki samajh aaee na jo dua,,.
makhmoor tha woh nikhwat e baar e  sawab mein

Du pal ka he suroor jo  rakhe Khuda se dooor
shaitan ka he shor o shar  sharb o sharab  mein

Peeri mein sab ko aati he yaad e khuda hee kion?
he lutf jab ho yaad e khuda bhi shabab mein

by mazHur


Copyright © mazhar butt | Year Posted 2014


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Limerick crochetes: Our great uhr-Father from Africa

Limerick cochetés: Our great uhr-Father from Africa

Our great uhr-Father from Africa
Hallowed be Thy fame in high Valhalla
	The Asian walk-about
	Down backbone coccyx snout
Who didst Thou mate in Peninsula Malaya

To produce orangutan Malaysia
Did our great uhr-cousin Gorilla
	Chimpanzee when in doubt
	Precede Thy walk-about
Swinging from tree to tree to Australia

To judge by great life in Southeast Asia
Smoke-filled lungs from HAZE in Sumatra
	Death penalty for tout
	With drugs- Hell for khalwat*
Is there doubt who preceded whom from Africa

•	khalwat:  (a Muslim – all Malays - religious law) 
According to which, no Malay may marry a non-Muslim nor be found in close proximity giving rise to suspicion of promiscuousness, law enforceable by religious courts whose officials are empowered to spy on offenders and report their activities to the relevant authorities


© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2015


Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2015


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Paradox of Civilization

In Jordan’s desert, a building façade 
has been carved into the face of a vertical cliff.
Stairs leading to the structure are lined with lanterns.
Looking up, a view standing right of center, 
stone appears orange near the base fading to black at its top.
Where cliff’s edge meets the night sky, 
darkness brightens into starlight.

While appearing more ancient, 
this façade has features of Roman architecture: 
columns, shallow gables atop flat roofs, carved figures decorating idle spaces.
It has two stories.
It’s first has six columns.
Two are set back from the entrance that is supported by four beneath a gable.
Two horses are carved on wall between first and second column, 
two more are carved between fourth and sixth column.
Inside a portico behind the center four columns, 
steps lead up to a tall entrance, black, 
an opening to a large chamber inside the rock.

The second story, as wide as first, has a block cut from its center. 
At each side are half gables, supported by two columns.
Statues are carved beneath each gable.
Between these gables is a turret supported with columns.
A statue of a human figure stands within the turret.

The grand scale of the western façade should be alien in the Jordanian desert.
It should be, but is not.
If taken from the rock and perfectly constructed in Washington D.C., 
with a coat of white paint, it would not look out of place.
A fusion of West and East, this place begs questions about the people who carved it,
political and religious beliefs of their civilization, 
its purpose in a desert, 
and how it could be ahead of its time.


Copyright © Graphite Drug | Year Posted 2015


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Children of the Golan

CHILDREN OF THE GOLAN
Beyond the fence we shouldn't go,
not even look, if we're alone,
nor see some things we should't know.

Our innocence has died, although,
we are the children never known,
and hide the we not meant to show.

Out of this wasteland, what can grow,
where only dust has ever blown,
too where, we never even know.

The Golan seems an empty show
the yellows, browns of rock and stone,
where we must make some flowers grow?
© Ron Arbuthnot


Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2015


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FROM FORM TO FORMLESS

Each form is a form of His form
Both form and formless are His norm
He chooses form as well formless, to get you to reform
He yields to a form even when a form gets deform

With such creation of forms, He does perform
With such ease, one may design Him in free-form
With various forms, He upholds a message to inform
With all such forms, His form is uniform

He is the only One to have the omniform
Though He is also of multiform
To realize Him, all religions are platform
Fact can be realized with a brainstorm

He cares for each being, even smaller than a tiny worm
To drive you towards formless, He takes form like cruciform
He is the form of formless, ultimately one may conform
From form to formless is the ultimate, one may transform!


NOTES: the state or quality of having every form. — omniform, adj.
Characterized by an unconventional or variable form: their own freeform teaching methods.

Cruciform = Shaped like a cross; cruciate.



Above poem is adapted from the eBook “ENOUGH TO FLY AND PLAY AND A COLLECTION OF POEMS” by Mr.V.MUTHU MANICKAM. Copyrights reserved. 


Copyright © V.MUTHU MANICKAM | Year Posted 2017


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Time

I wake up and shower,
look at myself in the mirror,
And say "What the? Where did the time go?"


Copyright © Jack Elly | Year Posted 2016


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The merits of fasting: Merry Ramazaan

Fasting cleanses both body and soul
It breaks you only to make you whole
Its spiritual connection plays a vital role.

Now not only the wearer knows the shoe pinches
for you get the chance to be in the needy's shoes
A whole month to forget those addictive binges
A chance to comprehend the poor man's cues.

Donot complain if your tummy's rumbling grumbling
for the poor man has always been thus starving
Feel his hunger, feel for him
and side by side give your weight a trim
Everybody wants to be so slim.

Many religions do prescribe it
The fasting one will describe it
If you have never done it
you might want to try it.

A month of fortitude, forbearance is a month of fasting
intended to impart a self-control and patience that's everlasting.

We all need ketosis to get rid of the lipids, fat stores
And researcher Google just told me that's what fasting ensures!

Craving for eatables the belly though may be raging
yet scientists have proved that produces a substance for anti-aging!

So if you are interested in a healthier, longer life span
come join me and fast away this month of Ramazaan.
It's time you understood God's health plan.

Researchers say the fasting person diverts energy
from the digestive system to the immune system!
Every wajibat has been proven good for both soul and body
Scroll even Google for yourself to thank the fasting dictum.

Fasting's a perfect way of bodily detoxification
Researchers say it's notable how fasting detoxifies each organ!

So come one come all, fasting can be for any creed
It lowers the BP and lowers the greed
as attention is diverted from the self to those in need.

I hope a month of NO food yet gives some food for thought
For a fasting from pondering should never be sought!


Copyright © S.zaynab Kamoonpuri | Year Posted 2015


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Arabian Days and Nights

I guess the candidates and polity saying "no"
to Earth's human refugees
during this their Thanksgiving time,
did not finish their Darwin biographies.

While endosymbiotic evolution,
indigenous to any one species,
can devolve to survival of the fittest,
this is most likely in these times
of ecosystemic crisis,
especially problems of monocultural over-population,
resulting in PreTraumaticStress Disorder,
an emotional response to cognitively dissonant
chronic cultural stimuli,
high anxiety plus high dissonance populations
suboptimize their regenerative health
through Win-Lose assumptions
and strategies of more competitive logistics
than co-operative logic.

But,
ectosymbiotic evolution,
exogenous to any one species or tribe
or nation
or religion
or culture
or ecosystem
or biosystem,
supports thrival of the most interdependently balanced,
harmonious relationships,
between organically individuated systems.

Ectosymbiotic and endosymbiotic evolution
are both symbiotic,
but ecto tends to have more revolutionary
and transcendently polycultural regenesis trends.

Symbiosis is synergetics,
default-evolutionary
Positive Systemic Development,
co-operative and co-arising,
negatively correlated (dipolar) with,
dissonance and stress,
eco-centric unbalance,
too Yang-dominant,
competing health-wealth issues,
rather than default co-operative 
integral synergetic symbiosis.

This is Darwin's 
Cooperative Beloved Community understory,
a plant,
a biosystem
an ecosystem's
a nation's or religion's
or any enculturing system's 
exquisite design of co-arising relationship,
proportional balance co-communication
within and between RNA/DNA-syntax,
speaking in voices of time's seasonal-reasonal
folding and unfolding;
an understory somehow omitted
by Business As Usual cultural narratives,
scientific academia,
rather than story-tellers
of Darwin's deep ecology.

Yet, what we too often miss in Darwin's notes
and drawings,
and life,
are also logical assumptions common to two mathematicians,
Buckminster Fuller and Charles Eisenstein,
prime dissonant double-binding temporal-boundary
between competing dominant cultural economies (proton v negelectron)
is where we choose to draw our line
of neutronic co-gravitational thermodynamic balance,
around us-inside v. "them"outside.

If "us" is only
non-marginalized human success stories
within our nation's
or religion's
geometric spacetime boundaries,
then Business As Usual Universalists
intend to defend
this relativistic,
yet overly commodified, 
monolithic and monochromatic monoculture,
until this ecosystem wilts and fades
dissonates and decomposes
for lack of fuel,
to become fuel,
nutrients, health
clean air and water 
into confluent absence
(yet still bilaterally timelessly relational)
of 4-dimensional primal-neural spacetime.

However,
when "refugees"
are also "us,"
if "us" includes all mutually-parasitic subsidiary forms
of RNA/DNA regenerative health intelligence,
then we choose to co-mentor refuge,
already a Polycultural Party
seeking a more inclusive
diverse
cooperative self-governance economy
together.

Together,
refugees and refuge-providing interdependent parasites
call ourselves "Beloved Community"
both hunter and haunted together,
predator and prey,
stimulator and responder,
Polyculturally Climax Optimizating dreams of paradise grandeur
Health-Sustenance Symbiotic Guilds,
communities in global networks,
gardens,
bio-eco-systems
nondual co-arising spirited nature
co-gravitational bicameral landscape design
and metaphysics of health development,
and,
oh yes,
EarthTribal beautiful relationships,
proportional barter transactionalists
and cooperative network developers,
synergists,
lovers,
co-mentoring regenerators.

Extract from
"Incubating Permaculturing Seeds and Embryos, as Political Economies:
Lectures,
Debates,
Recipes,
Poetry,
Essays,
Sit-Up Comedy."

Gerald Oliver Dillenbeck
giving thanks for refuge from overly-competitive,
and egocentric,
and anthrocentric,
storm.
Longing for an Arabian
full-moon night of mystical enlightenment
in the District of Columbia,
following the best practices and intent
of all 50 polycultural partying co-operative states.


Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015


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Guns and God

A Christian soldier with a gun and a crucifix is a man of God
A hoodlum with a gun and a crucifix is only a hoodlum
A Muslim with a flag and a gun is an Islamist terrorist
A Muslim with a flag and no gun won't make the news


Copyright © Cameron Hartley | Year Posted 2014


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The Bulldozer in my Dream

They have been wandering for decades
Journeying to the land that was promised by their forefathers
A land that would seal the faith of future generations.

They rove night and day guided by a single pillar of light
Looking for the land that was just minutes within sight
But faith had them wondering and pondering 
Meandering up steep hills and giant rocks
Roaming around mountain and caves
Looking for that sacred spot.

But they could not find their way home 
The road that leads home was covered with tall thick giant grass 
Blade as wide as the palm of my hands overshadowed the path
And the visible eyes could not perceive it
Only the spirit of God could reveal it.

Suddenly a bulldozer appears,
And a little man holding the levers  
Reversed it back and forth and leveled the dense path 
That leads to a dead end spot in the middle of the town.
The bulldozer could not handled the thick mass of grass
That forms little mountains on that anguished path.

Determination kept the bulldozer rolling along.
It pushed and scraped until it leveled the towering grass 
That connects the main road to an asphalted road. 
Without warning the bulldozer blade broke off in a circular hole
And the little man came from behind the levers and peeped into
the hole and grumbled that he has strained his back.

All of a sudden two men with machetes appeared 
And start copping around several mounds
Close to that very spot potato vine sprouted 
With blossom forming an archive in the air
potatoes ready for reaping hangs from 
vines  that juxtapose with blossoms.

Be quiet! 
The machete man exclaimed 
Stop chopping!
He peered at vines and leaves above
And discovered that the abandoned path is guarded 
By a gigantic wasp nest with thousands of wasps standing guards.

They hang from branches and form clusters 
that appear as brown potatato blossom
Laying wait in silence to attack their preys 
in the patch of bush that surround the mounds.
But they were exposed and dismantled
just before the break of dawn.

                                                                 ©2014 Christine Phillips


Copyright © Christine Phillips | Year Posted 2014


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Caseinlan V

Creed
Draws out
Asks ceasefire
Implants oneness
Faith


Copyright © Abdulhafeez Oyewole | Year Posted 2014