I like to think that you were there
when muezzin trills called to prayer.
Calm stillness drifted in au clair,
my thoughts were pining on the air.
I like to think that you were there
as pastel-colored skies so rare
unfolded day's soft morning glare.
A comfort holding no compare.
I like to think that you were there
in uniform, so debonaire!
A dream of mine and yours to share.
We two were one, a single pair.
Desert winds shifted sandbars bare
with hateful, boastful, intense flare.
As I stand in hypnotic stare,
I like to think that you were there.
Categories:
muezzin, death, dream, longing, loss,
Form: Monorhyme
The wind is blowing,
Blowing strong and boisterous
It's the wind of change
Tiffany truffles truncation.
Gale winds bowing to the
Prayer called by the Muezzin
The wind gauge is fixated
To the North's polarity.
Algorithms has altered its course.
All runing away from the curse
Of the dying whale marooned
In the shallow waters of the lagoon
Sneaky slithering snakes
In the hub of damnation.
Dooms days gong sounding.
Gloomy reverberations all over,
Cheering jeers from the crowd.
Breeches from the leeches of Gbongbon.
Having been ditched by the es of Ab...
Orphaned by their loss
Enters the blame game
Characterised by sore losers
Winner's have many friends
But woe to you if you are a loser
That is the nature of the game.
(Written on the 10th April, 2015)
Categories:
muezzin, education, fate, leadership, visionary,
Form: Free verse
When the wars of all nations fall quiet upon shells and shallow graves
A mockingbird rises from ashes and spreads its wings into nuclear skies
No muezzin left to spread angelic messages but a nest in calm turrets
06th January 2020
Categories:
muezzin, dark, war,
Form: Free verse
One thousand and one fluttering butterflies in one centre all
flap their wings sharing ambrosia for my soul mate and I
Mysterious nights in soft embrace tending sensuous flight
dance to tunes of the muezzin praying for love’s melody
Turkish delight on the shores of Baklava sweat meats taste
under a veil of exposure in nubility’s promises reconfirmed
Silk’s fragrance on a magic carpet in full flight shelters them
as their passion was made for more than the dusk of the dawn
Mosque and musk mingle when fast is broken and garments unfastened in
the East when sun rises bids farewell to the moon and their vows bow to
Tantra cosmos and mantra and
give thanks to the orbit they do not have to travel alone
12th February 2018
Categories:
muezzin, love,
Form: Free verse
The call of the muezzin, drifting over the wall,
mixes with the odors
of diesel, cooking oil, and humanity,
as I watch a lone kite flying above low houses,
a smear of red across dun colored hovels,
crouched against barren mountains,
jagged like broken molars,
and imagined it to be a sun spotted apparition,
the mazy soul of the city,
tethered, wind whipped, straining,
and I long to sever the string,
turn it aloft to jetstreamed freedom,
high cried,
tear dried,
childhood...
denied,
and only barely notice,
the kite,
torn, landfallen,
twisted on a high wire like a kestrel pinioned,
and the sun sets.
Categories:
muezzin, memory, war,
Form: Prose Poetry
The glowing sun is just about set
And I have a glass of wine in my hand
A candle burns in a robust flame
My beloved snuggles in my embrace,
There’s a prospect of romance in the air--
And Muezzin* calls the faithful to prayer…
O God
Pardon me my evening prayer!
My evening has blossomed
into a promising night
Her long and lustrous hair swaying
like flower-laden boughs in the wind
Let me drink and imbibe my love deeply,
I know a new day is not going to now dawn…
O God
Pardon me my morning prayer!
*Muezzin: One who summons Muslims
to prayer from the minaret of a mosque.
(An overriding theme of Sufi poets is the expression of the relationship between lover and Beloved, soul and Absolute, using worldly imagery to describe their mystical experiences. Wine refers to the nectar of divine ecstasy.)
~08/21/15
"Only for those NA contest by Edward Ebbs
Categories:
muezzin, wine,
Form: Free verse
Heat waves cavort around your face
transforming it before my eyes
watching in fertile silence...
... through faceless days of scorching torture reeling
into darkness, ballet of countless veils - subtle need, vibrant with passion of
the soil,
and not waiting for dawn
a rooster is a muezzin crowing wordless prayer,
With their humming, plainsong tires, taxis thread the night
and leaves are strumming, plucking off-pitch wails
from air-guitars of searing depths unknown
while you are transformed - within me - though I know not
how,
nor do you, nor do the taxis, leaves, the rooster, the guitars...
... the musky breath of living pirouettes darkly through your hair...
Categories:
muezzin, love,
Form: Haiku