Allah Spiritual Poems

Satan is sailing the Seas
God is absolutely Great
Satan is selling red shoes
The Lord is divinely Good
Satan is selling sneakers
God is Pure
Satan is selling incense
Gentle God,...

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Bilocation is a term that pecks at my mind's tree
Seeking to make a hole and create a nest of fables
Laying eggs of verity and hatching...

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Is not God a concept, till we see Him?
How will memorising scriptures assist?
Conditioned beliefs make our soul’s light dim.
Love alone is real and that’s life’s...

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Although this miserable place had once seen happier days,
Truly their prayers shall be answered in mysterious ways.
The Lord of the Universe is whom deserves all of...

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How long will I elude
you, who resides in me
Lo! You molded me
like clay,
from a dirty drop
the singular whispered voice
that spoke with the
ferocity of a
booming baritone...

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These weathered hands -
rusted relics
embellished in the
patina of time’s
restless passage

These sinister
metallic arms march
forward, akin to
Third Reich battalions
stomping on
Parisian fabric
with leather boots
hand stitched
in the name of
totalitarian...

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I was a moth,
a drifter,
seeking refuge
in the scorching blaze.

Destiny's jaws dug
deep into my hands
each canine like a nail
hammered into my palms
clasping onto my flesh
before tugging...

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We are dots
unyoked in the astral pencil sketch
disjointed blots
swinging on the vines
pouncing around for residues
epiphanic morsels sprinkled
like salt on gaping wounds

Lo! Look at how we...

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My Stockholm syndrome
crosshatch strokes across my rickety easel
lavish lavender blends of oil and spice
dye this powerless infant
catapulted into a cradle –
the dead center
of a clandestine...

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Plucking my oud's sacral strings
her felt fingers glide across my neck
the goblet drums' frisky clicks
like an oasis nestled in the desert
Persia's striking sonority slices me...

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Tinctures of Tuscan red temptation
trickle through all
of the tempestuous rivulets
in Damascus

The scent of
the nonpareil nectar
torments both the
nearby boors and patricians

They quaff the wine and
leave the...

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POEM: 
My yoke shall remain light
like wings of a falcon in flight
but if you remain anchored,
do not sound the dread alarm when
my burden's fangs sink...

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POEM: 
Cast upon me piercing pricks
of thorny apostasy, then douse me in
an inundation of roseate deluge
grayed watery specks flicker like charcoal embers
but I imbibe every...

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POEM: 
Corking my only apertures shut
I peer through this concave eyelet within
gorging on the salt breeze
the aroma of cabernet grape skins resuscitate
my airways, as I...

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Tirelessly tapping the ecliptic elixir of modernity
the marionette hurls pebbles at minarets

The rot of this wretched wine vivified his rapturous pith
platting the tombs of his...

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