Best Shams Poems
1. Shall I narrate you a tale or may be a thousand stories,
Of a lost love and fervent devotion?
Or chronicles of longing and separation?
Mayhap I, relate both as you wish, open your eyes and give me your ears.
2. For I hear no serenade and diversion no more,
I dwell in evanescence of poetry and free verses,
Yet I yearn for a rune of praise, jealousy or even scorn,
Scythe me not, in a circle I whirl and swirl, beloved.
3. This poor heart beckons the chants of your name,
It that be bounteous, splendid and dazzling,
My lungs hymned shall intone in flamboyance,
Beloved, look-see my essence, my being.
4. Be it, am a sycophant, for your favor,
Behave the heart of peccadilloes and lapses.
Reveal to me the cryptic and the arcane,
The venal lushness of your vision, beloved.
5. You are ubiquitous, beloved,
I attest the signs and the hallmarks scattered,
Yet my caravan never reaches the apogee,
Even in silence, in solitude and slumber I journey.
6. Like the moon, sun and star scads,
Darkness and light, in their sheer vanity,
You are the whole and abound in majesty,
Behold arrogance and vanity are veraciously only yours, beloved.
7. Like a spinning wheel always in motion,
Not a second escapes a nix from your vision,
Yet foundered in my bewilderment you notice me not,
Withal, I carry on until that day when you do, with devotion.
8. Betide a sudra untouchable, so be it my karma,
Yonder I move stubbornly towards my moksha,
Let fate excruciating me to annihilation and redemption,
To my nirvana, peace and nothingness in you, beloved.
9. Importuned, the day you alight by the door,
Ready will I be, no need to knock, alas just enter,
For all doors are yours, be sited beloved while I fetch my flute,
For the flute had been seeking its reed bed.
10. No doors, no restraint in my heart, there is only you,
Always plenteous and as wide as the ocean,
No walls, no locks and no curtains can resist,
For this heart is your dwelling place, for, you never left, beloved.
Shams was laughing when he composed
Mevlana was turning and dancing
one laughs external, one internal
All speaking the same language
passing out Pearl Knowledge to
the rest of the vast ocean
reminding us that we can only
bear a jug full, a small glass
so we shouldn't rush
don't bet on the horse-race
just take one day at a time
don't borrow from tomorrow
take in only what is in
our capacity to handle
please no overdosing
on drugs
on sugar
on caffeine
on life
enjoy the smorgasbord but
only fill your plate
There is no
race
there is peace
in time we see
harmony
the race that you
know
is a sham
breed
to lie
too invite
anger
to shed
blood
over colors
yet their are no
colors
and nature
intended
us all
as one
and two
be true to the truth
of life
though
your eyes
i gain
strength
and the forefather lies
LMG3
Agreements are Shams!
Agreements are shams that the wise call a shakedown,
the wisest trust conflict, will work what’s at hand.
Agreements exist when folks (forced to) are civil.
Identical twins have mutations, evolve!
What miracles might stop, experience kicks off -
inclines some to ‘free,’ doppelgängers to ‘rhyme’
whose hearts aren’t a prison sans shotgun engagement,
unfortunate wedlock (“Love’s loved!” all opine).
Conflict can prove glue for relational breakdown
and help, frictions eased, to build trust that’s not canned.
To seek pains avoidance is soul-sucking drivel
for friendships, untested, are sure to devolve.
How likely are friends with porks’ snouts in a feed trough
to think less of pleasures and more of new crimes?
For peace is an afternoon’s nap, an arrangement,
for sides to seek gain with opponents supine.
Please trust that I’ll trust you until I don’t trust you,
will love you as well, till I don’t anymore,
and look to be fair as I feel your affection!
The Golden Rule’s Chapter and Verse (proves my sin),
Is faith as I practice it, faith or convenience?
Without Grace, I’m toast, and in more ways than one.
Grace makes ALL one’s brother, your father (and mother),
all siblings, need Grace! Faith should grok that as well.
Humility seems to be ripe for a rescue!
If ‘Truth’ is you’re saved, how can ‘Grace’ be your door?
You ‘know’ you’re entitled, Christ’s Blood’s your protection,
it’s His Grace or yours? Faith (not acts) posts the win!
The acts God inspires (where we act) is man’s brilliance,
His Glory, our flame. Just a flash, and we’re done!
If faith, that God’s God (and I’m not) helps me smother
what’s vain, if that’s right, may trust surf ebb tide’s swell!
Brian Johnston
18th of March in 2021
A COFFER OR A COFFIN
“Rage on,” my friend said unto me
“Guard what’s yours with urgency
For walls can be scaled by scoundrels and enter your domain
So keep a steady eye on what treasures you were blessed to own
Small trinkets of gold or a large diamond ring
never allow a stranger to lodge with you or retract what he may bring
Lest your coffer be missing when sister sun shines in a criminal’s eyes
“Be wise and wizened by wisdom wrought of rightful indignation
And let no man diminish you nor cause ye somewhere to hide
Hide not the fact for every man to know where you can be found
with armaments for destruction, devastation whilst all out war be yours
Allow the will of your castle never to be denied
As you hide not the pride you feel inside
And grow greater from all the grief
Stand stagnant ready to be relegated to belief
The fact that no man is unable to protect himself
if be he armed with confidence
The necessary weapon that will bring his entire enemies down
And the conviction seen in his eyes
With a countenance of strength
For you were birthed, born, made, created, and molded by the steady overlord of our universe
So suffer no man’s ill will nor any fruitless curse
And as unfolds your destiny decided long ago
No matter what the masses may say
I say, Rage on my friend
Because to you I might seem very kind
But turn your back on even my shadow
and I’ll rob your f******g castle blind
(2011.….Poe free ~free cee!~
It came from a beloved book; the dream
Long lost, or so I thought,
which told: Go to your Turkey
and meet the Rumi in your dreams;
to complete his story; if I were the
story teller,destined,
for love comes from the strangest of places.
I hoped to make the dream come true.
'The Poet'* told me: Find the deserts
that hide within the city;
like the grief hidden beneath a happy face.
He wrote me a poem,with all blessings.
How I hold those poems dear!
But was it a feeling that came and left on its own?
For I no more find Turkey wherever I look.
And I am hopeless to go there;
and die before my Death.
May be Turkey is somewhere near
I just need time to find where.
"Even if I were the Shams,
where is the Rumi to see the beauty!"
Where the Boundaries disappear;
Timelessness creep in;
Names forgotten ;
and nothing but Love remains.
Upon there is my journey
and there lies my destination.
Please don't stop the beautiful dreams.
I am thirsty for more!
*
The poem was inspired from the reading of the book 'Forty Rules of Love' written
by Elif Shafak ,based on the beautiful story of the Sufi poet
Rumi and his beloved soulmate Shams of Thabriz. Suddenly I was too much into the words of Rumi,
to know him more and more. In a literary event, a poet wrote a short poem for me after we talked about dreams of visiting Turkey , Rumi and dervishes. The process was called busking.
Forever grateful for that poem 'Dreams of Desert'.