Best Masnavi Poems
The Voice…
On a dark night that was darker than my pain,
nothing was there for me except to complain.
I hid myself in the emptiness of bed.
Nothing was there except loneliness instead.
I heard a sound that was not like any sound.
Joyously called my name, sought me, and then found.
He told me to get up, wake up look at dawn.
The darkness of the night soon will be all gone.
The voice told me that morning dawn, full of light;
has the power to wash darkness from its night.
The voice asked me about the days of my youth.
That I am old and grey, with forgotten truth.
I asked him that who are you, and what are you?
I don't know you, didn’t see you passing through.
Who are you that suddenly came to my room?
Aren’t you God, and I am, meeting my doom?
I called your name many times when I was young.
I prayed your name day and night with broken tongue.
Now, you are calling my name in this day and age;
not worth talking to you; anger creates rage.
I am too old, and I had too many sins,
Living is the only game that nobody wins.
Go and bother another soul beside me,
I am tired of you; you shall never be.
The voice told me that I was out of my mind.
And I have been beguiled, as though I am blind.
He told me that he was with me the whole time.
He let me to fly in this paradigm.
He told me that he is the end of a start.
He is the love that cries from an aching heart.
He told me that he is water in the spring.
He is those nightingales who so blithely sing.
He told me that he is bottom, and he’s up.
He is grapes, and he is wine in the same cup.
He told me that he gave feathers for a flight.
He made it so the sun shall set within night.
I asked him if I could see him with my eyes,
I will be like the moon, lighting up the skies.
That I looked for any sign to believe him,
with just all promises, dreams maybe all grim.
He told me to wake up, open up my eyes,
and see what is to see, a blessing in disguise.
I did open my eyes saw a glowing bright,
like a drifting shadow, in an ocean of light.
I saw my son saying, "Wake up! Wake up! dad",
What’s the matter with you? Are you going mad?
5/14/16 Haloo
Playground…
Playground…
I am making decisions every morning,
None of them comes along with any warning.
To go right or to go left, which one is right?
Living in darkness or hoping to see light.
I made million decisions, most of them fine,
Few I made that I think it wasn’t mine.
Few that changed my life led me to despair,
I wish I had a chance go back and repair.
What if I had the power to do it right?
To go back and play all day and all night.
What if I can go back to play like a young?
To sing all of the songs that ought to be sung.
What if, instead of books, I learned to live life,
to learn dance, and learn to play with no more strife?
Alas, sun is setting, darkness coming soon.
My hope is to see it; that wandering moon.
I wish there was a game I could play now.
A childish game if you can show me it how.
The sinful mirror on my nearest wall,
Reminding my summer has gone; it is fall.
The autumn now, it is cold and full of pain.
The winter promises more days to complain.
I am thinking to go back and do it right.
As if mistakes never were an oversight.
I am thinking of a play in the playground.
To play as young again, hope youth to be found.
If I play hard again, I might become young,
I will dance like a fool, unknown and unsung.
I don’t know where to play or who I can trust.
In this strange game of life, aging is unjust.
Where is my playground, my supernal bliss?
Awake me once again; no life is like this.
7/28/18 Haloo
Note: This particular style of poetry is called "Masnavi"; it is a spiritual couplet usually with eleven syllables. Poetrysoup has a great explanation and example of this form of poetry.
Motherland…
I am a desert, barren and hot.
Hoping for the rain, which I forgot.
Once, I was green, golden, and bright.
Nightingales singing night after night.
My fresh breeze at dawn was ever nice,
Showered me blossoms like paradise.
Year after year, I dressed up in green.
Green and reddish with white in between.
Until I became older than old,
All I have now is darkness and cold.
I lost all of my glory and youth,
Hope death is not the end or the truth.
I had so many kings that were tall,
Now, I am filled with filth that they crawl.
Tired of being a desert that’s old,
Thousands and thousands of years to be told.
Cyrus and Darius lived within me.
Now I am barren; how could it be?
I am now desert far from the sea;
They burned my soul so no one can see.
Empty and lonely, thirsty and dry,
hope for the rain and generous sky.
Hope for someone to answer my cry,
Wash up my tears, and don’t let me die.
I need a hero like the old times,
Come and wash me from all the crimes.
Come to me, my love, my lovely rain,
shower me with love, get rid of pain.
If you come back and shower me, fine
promise I give you, I'll drink your wine.
For me, rain is love; love is my life.
To live without love is endless strife.
I want to become a jungle of love,
making love and being free as a dove.
I am now dying, dying of thirst,
Hope for a drizzle; first thing is first.
1/28/20 Haloo
Note: Motherland is Iran, the birthplace of civilizations, a country with thousands of years of history. In the past forty years, there is a great tension between the government of Iran and the United States. This tension has escalated recently to the point of an imminent war between the two countries. The people in Iran are suffering from an authoritarian government on one side and sanctions and pressure on the other. This humble piece is written to give you the understanding that under a millimeter of skin, we’re all the same, the same humans, and humanities are the same regardless of religion, culture, and geographical background.
The Life Is …
The Life Is …
When I was young, there was no pain,
The only pain was to complain.
When I was young, I did not care,
Just as long as my love was there.
When I was young, my life was great.
But I was there a bit too late.
A bit too late to know life was,
being young and having no flaws.
A bit too late to celebrate,
What I had then was called my fate.
Now it’s different, weather is cold,
I turned into a man that’s old.
The spring has passed, summer is gone,
Autumn at rest, winter is on.
I am too old and know it’s gone.
It is too dark to hope for dawn.
Now I know that a part of life,
It is old age and lives with strife.
Now I know that my life is not,
The perfect plan when I had thought.
The life is not the silken dress,
Unmarked from flaws, full of success.
My life is just a song I sing,
It is winter chasing the spring.
It is sorrow, it is laughter,
It is hope for morning after.
My life is just a long poem,
Had a young star; none would know him.
The life is just a shooting star,
It is so bright but can’t go far.
Blink your eyes; it’s all be gone,
I played this game like a faceless pawn.
I played so well; somehow, I lost.
You don’t want me to count my cost.
My life is like a field of dream,
Or maybe like a moonlit stream.
My life is like a drop of dew,
Waiting the Sun to say adieu.
My life is like the dew at dawn,
The sun will kiss; it will be gone.
My life is not to be just young,
It is okay to be unsung.
My life is like the morning breeze,
It can bring storms or bring you ease.
You are hoping for one more dream,
That wakes you up in golden gleam.
The life is like a candle’s flame,
It lights up love or burns to blame.
The games are on, and the moves are fast.
I do not know how long they last.
For some, it’s short; for some, it’s long.
Go have more fun; it is not wrong.
Remember now, it might get late,
Go play your move before checkmate.
10/2/2019
Haloo
Note: The painting is called “A reminder”; it’s acrylic on wood.
Note: This style of poetry is called "Masnavi"; it is the spiritual couplets. This particular masnavi consists of eight syllables in each line. Poetrysoup has a great explanation and example of this form of poetry.
How do I praise your influence, oh Rumi?
For you are the essence of my poetry.
Poet's quote.
I was lost in mournful melodies of birds,
until death brought me back to life through your words.
My sleeping spirit now roams in your garden's blooms,
spinning from nothingness against toxic fumes.
Polishing of my heart left me in a trance,
through cleansing of pain, I learned how to dance.
I had not drank wine, but walked like a drunkard,
dizziness helped to forget where I wandered.
You taught; how the beloved lives in my heart.
To let go of those who wanted to depart.
To stop chasing stories and myths from the past.
To break free from the prisons our minds can cast.
When you change with wisdom, your soul recovers,
ascends to the sky in a world of lovers.
Now I have wings and no longer crawl through life,
never raise my words to cause another strife.
Ignore those who remind of disease and death.
That love is the bridge between my sweetheart's breath.
I closed my eyes, fell in love and remain there.
Life is a guest house, so I dwell without care.
The poem is based on Rumi quotes and poems.
Mathnawi or Masnavi is a Persian a type of poetry, originating from the Arabic word Mathnawi, written in rhyming units and which follow a pattern of eleven or sporadically ten syllables without any length limits. This one is eleven syllables per line.
QUOTE ME RUMI
Plant me in the garden next door.
I want to be a man no more.
I don’t want to have pain in me.
I don’t want to be me with me.
I don’t want to see the world as such;
Sorrow, hunger, unjust too much.
I want to kiss the breeze at night.
Running away from the pain and plight.
I want to bloom colors and dyes.
Seeing the world with less despise.
I want to bathe in rain and dew.
Immerse myself in love, renew.
I want to feed the birds and bees.
Be the reason for lovers to please.
I want to be a man no more,
and do the things I‘ve done before.
11/28/15 Haloo
11/28/15 Haloo
“Yesterday, I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today, I am wise, so I am changing myself” Rumi.
Regret….
I flew once in a field full of flowers,
a field that was kissed by April showers.
I tasted all the jasmines, as they were new,
I did bathe on a leaf in a little dew.
I was always busy playing till midnight,
I woke up, and I was not sure of my sight.
I was a bird soaring as high as a hawk.
Flying like a wind, with the wind, had a talk.
I turned into the wind and then to a cloud,
A dark cloud with the sound of thundering loud.
I turned into the rain after being cloud,
quenching the deserts with silvery shroud.
I turned into river, and then to a sea,
even as water I was able to see.
I turned into a fish, perfectly aware,
knowing that my lover was surely out there.
Swimming like a fish, my world became cold,
I lost my will to live, and soon I got old.
I heard a nightingale calling me at night,
telling me that being a man would be alright.
I turned into a man in search of wisdom,
hoping that love and peace would rule the kingdom.
A lot of years have passed with my broken heart,
I could not find the peace; I needed a new start.
I will change back again to look for my love;
maybe a lamb or sheep, maybe a white dove.
I will look everywhere until it is found.
I know it’s there for me if I look around.
Until then, I’ll become laughter to a child,
or maybe dandelions that grow wild.
2/19/2016
Haloo
The Watch Maker…
Let me be, leave me alone, I'm Him, I'm alone.
I'm in pain; let me be, let me be, on my own.
All the time, every night, I see their vanished sights.
Let me be, being alone, tired of silent nights.
In this world of darkness, I feel pain and sadness.
Nothing there in my heart only beats emptiness.
In this sad cave of time, I suffered from my crime.
I suffered with this pain; pain is there all the time.
Time is pain; I feel trapped, I cannot face the fact.
Who am I? Watchmaker, I don't know how to act.
Fault me not if I did what I did on my own,
I am here, lonely nights, sleepless, all alone.
What I did in my mind I made it partly blind.
I made it for my sake, what I hoped yet to find.
I have dreamt of the sun; shining sun seemed like fun.
No more fear, no more fright, a good deed I have done.
With the light, I can see a luscious land full of trees,
shining jewels, red and green, dancing with morning breeze.
I made birds fly too high, no more pain, no more cry.
Rainbow near, out of clouds, oceans there in the sky.
I made grapes; I made wine; holy wine suits me fine.
I made drunks; I am drunk; drunks, to me, are divine.
I gave love; I gave truth to all men's sins of youth.
I gave life, I gave death, I gave all reckless truth.
I shall sleep all night long to have dreams of the light.
If I wake up tonight, all your days will be night.
I need you more than I; if you live, I don't die,
Who is it? You or I; if we're one, both can fly.
Am I drunk, maybe mad? Let me be, I'll be glad.
Don't wake me. I'll be mad, knowing that you feel bad.
12/7/17 Haloo
The painting is called The Watch Maker, it is acrylic on canvas...
Marred and minced remnants pile high in a storm’s swarm
Yesterdays, hardened-soft, surface where sea’s warm…
Flotsam found, lays tales around, in frayed traces
Another shattered shell whimpers of graces
vying with the sea-swept sands: gloss embossed fades…
Ocean’s dead! These are castaways of Hades,
rid of depth, stranded upon the dry shallow
Interred where the sun bleaches out the shadows
till whitened ivory fills cavern’s echo:
enmeshed lime, crunching upon errors callow
Jazz died - June’s sun sank into august abyss…
Undertow currents ceased their torments of bliss
Nipped life, silenced like frothing foam vacuum-sealed,
kept smothered in an opaque ocean congealed…
Yard junked, Neptune’s home’s now a derelict mess
and yet he clings to the crap amassed, crownless
Right always, up to the end --------- that no return.
Death will erase the un-sunk bones when they burn
(10/3/2019: '90 Sea Ray DA 350; Discovery Park; ‘my favorite junkyard’)
My muse keeps pestering like a cenobite,
chewing my brain like a hungry parasite.
Pressuring the ink to bleed like acid rain,
catharsis to release perpetual pain.
Hiding poems that live rent free like boarders,
I'm a shadow slave refusing it's orders.
This elusive euphoria sounds absurd,
because I'm silent in my clandestine world.
My pen has froze in this salacious summer,
ignoring mental murderous moon's mummer.
My faithful muse, why don't you abandon me,
can't you see I have no time for poetry.
I've fallen free without words, feeling too deep,
please do not disturb me, I just want to sleep.
Cat and mouse
Within a garden somewhere out there,
butterflies were dancing free from care.
Thousands of flowers loving the dance,
love the lovers and loving romance.
A lot of butterflies full of lust,
drinking and dancing in love they trust.
Daffodil pitchers filled with the wine,
drinking that wine was wholly, divine.
Roses and jasmines fully bloomed,
enchanted aromas sweetly perfumed.
From its hiding a devious mouse,
saw the butterflies right from his house.
He ran to the garden, chased the fly,
grabbed him tightly, bit him to die.
Ate him like candy tenderly sweet,
the smell of jasmines made it complete.
Loving his food and loving its taste,
the mouse was happy nothing got waste.
Until he saw a ghostly shape,
scary giant, he couldn’t escape.
There was a cat with a smiley face,
growled and meowed and started the chase.
Running like wind, he didn’t gave in,
hunting for food is never a sin.
He grabbed the mouse in a playful way,
ate him so fast then rested all day.
The mouse tasted like jasmine and rose,
the flavor of butterfly joined with those.
The cat was happy and licked his paws,
adored his power sharpened his claws.
Until the next day there was a dog,
with big shaggy tail, fat like a hog.
Ugly and old he ran after cat,
hunted the cat and ate him like rat.
The dog was old and his fate foretold,
he died in winter when air was cold.
He died and buried and turned to dust
nothing can escape from time and rust.
The months have passed and years gone by,
what else can we do except comply?
Living and dying is a part of life.
Life and death are in constant strife.
The flesh of the dog made the jasmines grew,
butterflies came with their lives renew.
Roses and lilies grew one more time,
butterflies dancing, dancing in rhyme.
Another mouse and another cat,
the playful cat, that ate up the rat.
Another dog and another feast,
after a while the death chose the beast.
Life is a circle, circle like a chain.
Everything goes and comes back again.
There will be death for me and you,
like roses and jasmines lives renew.
3/12/16 Haloo
The bubble
The bubble
I’m a bubble, a bubble of air;
Deep in the ocean, fully aware.
Darkness my cover, cold and sad;
Covering my soul, making me mad.
Who deserves this much loneliness?
Deep In the darkness of the emptiness.
Months have passed, and years have gone;
One day I woke up and saw the Sun!
Love, at first sight was indeed.
You plant your love; I grow the seed.
Darkness turned to beautiful light.
Colors of sunshine, golden and white.
How blind I was yesterday?
Not knowing the light of today.
Sweet like the honey breeze at dawn;
Taste of sunshine, glorious sun.
Love is a gift, a gift of sight;
It lets you see in the darkest night.
Light is love; love is warm;
If you have it, trust the storm!
It felt lighter with the warmness of love;
caused me to fly like a golden dove.
Higher and higher into the cloud,
Thousands of lovers form a crowd.
Love and sunshine are both complete;
The heart of this bubble started to beat.
Thousands of bubbles ready to burst;
Dying from waiting, dying of thirst.
Seeking the source of silver and gold;
The secret of Love will fully unfold.
If you are dark from the lack of light,
Remember me, I escaped the night.
Ask and listen to things that are true,
follow and trust and then pursue.
If I end up in the dark and deep,
I promise you I don’t think to weep.
Love is a gift, a gift of sight;
It lets you see in the darkest night.
Love is light, and light is warm.
If you got it, trust the storm.
Haloo 2/8/2011 revised on 9/24/23
Who am I?
Who am I?
I was a working man who worked day and night.
Living in darkness and hoping to see light.
I’ve lived with pain since my years are gone.
I know the darkest is right before dawn.
From my empty bed, I looked at the sky;
I changed to a bird and then dreamt of fly.
To live my life in extreme, I got lost in a dream.
I was searching for love until I found the scheme.
I stretched my wings and danced, hoping for the spring,
Flying in the rain, learning how to sing.
In my dream as a bird, morning changed into night.
To find my love again, I hoped to see light.
As a bird on a tree, I dreamt of a man.
Sleeping in his bed and dreaming all he can.
That man, in his dream, worked morning till dark;
Got tired of pain and asleep in the park.
He slept again so fast to escape from his past,
one more dream of joy, hoping to see at last.
He changed again in rage; to a bird flew from cage,
drunken from the dew, garden became his stage.
Until he fell asleep, once more as bird so deep,
He dreamt again as a man who cried himself to sleep.
I know you’re confused, maybe a bit amused,
Perhaps I am that bird or man that is confused.
12/2015 Haloo
My Shadow….
Lost in the path of this dreadful life,
thinking of years that I spent in strife;
walking and thinking, what is ahead?
Living with pain or dying instead.
Watching my shadow crawling below;
scared and dazed, with nothing to show.
My shadow was darkened by the gloomy night;
Walking behind me, frightened by light.
He didn't know his nature was light;
he taught that he was planted by night.
Awaiting until dawn with the breeze
to make the shadow taller than trees.
Little by little, the light of time
made it so shadow reaching his prime.
The shadow started to sing and dance
in the garden of the life romance.
He was the young one, handsome and bold.
Never thought there would be days of old.
Dancing with the drum of joy and youth,
only the time will teach us the truth.
The morning turned into the mid-day sun,
I was standing, but the shadow in run.
He was running, and I was the chase;
I couldn't keep up, and he lost the race.
He was blaming me, I got too old,
So much as my life, losing its gold.
The sun was setting; the shadow got dim.
Little by little got, pale and slim.
His height and his youth vanished so soon.
The sun left him and kept the moon.
What will happen if the shadow is gone?
Should I ever wish to see the dawn?
6/23/2016 Haloo
Perplexity …
To be or to become, death is the question.
Not knowing the end, show me the direction.
What is a chain if it is broken?
Today, my words are all unspoken.
What is my destiny? Living with pain!
Living in the desert, hoping for rain!
How do I wish for a gentle breeze?
Take me to a garden before I freeze.
What do they say, dying roses?
To love birds and I, when winter opposes.
Travel further, further than never,
live with the laughter pain hardly ever.
Descend to a land; I call it Demand;
hope for the secrets; we understand.
Surrender yourself in a bundle of Love,
What measures love come from above?
Having the Knowledge of knowing why;
There is no dying or saying goodbye.
Striving for Independence, worries will be gone;
The darkness will be changing when it is dawn.
Becoming the Oneness of all in one,
Do all the things that have never been done.
Wondering what if there is some more?
Maybe we are lost, now and before.
Maybe I am lost, lost in a sea;
Maybe there is Death, and then I’ll be free.
Haloo
June 2015