Want to be Wise?
Want to be wise and respected too?
I will tell you exactly what to do,
First, find a fool, and study him well,
Any nearby mirror will be just swell.
You can criticise him in any way you will,
Till your critical faculty’s an empty shell,
But please make sure that he doesn’t depart
Till he has taken every single word to heart.
You will know for sure that this is the case,
When he says he’s not fit for the human race.
Then finally kill him, with kindness of heart,
Let him know that of living he’s just made a start.
Words in a Foreign Tongue
The culture embedded in writing, and poetry,
Cannot be translated really comprehensively,
Though the meaning can be explained effectively,
And the sense of the words conveyed, sensitively.
Their implication however is universal, you see,
And translated it really does not need to be
Words with The Beloved
I thought I had better write these lines to remind me that:
Wherever I go,
Whoever I meet,
Whatever I do,
or see,
or know,
or imagine,
or hear,
or feel,
or think,
or touch,
or dream
or plan,
or whwerever I turn,
Whatever I have been, or am now, or will become
It was, is now, and will always be - Only You
I thought it was this or that, true,
But it was always and only You.
I thought it was him or her too,
But it was always and only You.
I thought it was something new,
But it was always and only You.
I thought it was something rare and true,
It was - it was always and only You.
It was this or that, its true
But it was always really You.
It was him or her, too,
But it was always really You.
And in so many places
and in so many faces
I found so many traces
Of only You
I went to school, now I know - it was all really You
I went to college but I really learned about only You
I did so many different jobs - but always really for You
I fell in love so many times, but always really with You
I have been sad but that sadness was You
I have been happy but that happiness was You
I have had my heart-broken - but always by You
I thought I learnt many things but they were all You
So many words of mine about You
Or are they, also, only Your words too?
Am I hiding behind them or are You?
Is there is only one, and there never was two?
The Beloved's Reply
The beginning of loving is becoming 'Me' in 'You'
To bring love into existence I became 'Me' and 'You'
Love separates and unites both 'You' and 'Me'
And between brings into being what needs be.
The Lover's Reply
You have broken my heart
And it really, really did hurt
Beloved
What an excellent start!
Remember Jacob and Joseph's Shirt!
Mevlana and Shems (I can't tell apart)?
Nizamuddin and Amir Khusro too?
And Majnun and Laila - Oh so true!
Lover
And what purpose can there be
In this game of You and me?
Beloved
The purpose is to bring into being
The actual fact, yes the material thing.
That is the evidence of the true love
In man and woman and heaven above.
Lover
And this talk now of you and me?
Beloved
Print out the poem - you will see.
JMZ Jan 25 2012
With Thy Love
By Thy signs inform me,
With Thy arms enfold me,
To Thy breast hold me,
With Thy love destroy me.
By Thy hand take me,
With Thy fragrance drown me,
By Thy look absorb me,
With Thy love destroy me.
By Thy Grace enchant me,
With Thy thought control me,
By Thy lip imbibe me,
With Thy love destroy me.
By Thy beauty excite me,
With Thy presence pervade me,
By Thy union calm me,
With Thy love destroy me.
Want to be wise and respected too?
I will tell you exactly what to do,
First, find a fool, and study him well,
Any nearby mirror will be just swell.
You can criticise him in any way you will,
Till your critical faculty’s an empty shell,
But please make sure that he doesn’t depart
Till he has taken every single word to heart.
You will know for sure that this is the case,
When he says he’s not fit for the human race.
Then finally kill him, with kindness of heart,
Let him know that of living he’s just made a start.
Words in a Foreign Tongue
The culture embedded in writing, and poetry,
Cannot be translated really comprehensively,
Though the meaning can be explained effectively,
And the sense of the words conveyed, sensitively.
Their implication however is universal, you see,
And translated it really does not need to be
Words with The Beloved
I thought I had better write these lines to remind me that:
Wherever I go,
Whoever I meet,
Whatever I do,
or see,
or know,
or imagine,
or hear,
or feel,
or think,
or touch,
or dream
or plan,
or whwerever I turn,
Whatever I have been, or am now, or will become
It was, is now, and will always be - Only You
I thought it was this or that, true,
But it was always and only You.
I thought it was him or her too,
But it was always and only You.
I thought it was something new,
But it was always and only You.
I thought it was something rare and true,
It was - it was always and only You.
It was this or that, its true
But it was always really You.
It was him or her, too,
But it was always really You.
And in so many places
and in so many faces
I found so many traces
Of only You
I went to school, now I know - it was all really You
I went to college but I really learned about only You
I did so many different jobs - but always really for You
I fell in love so many times, but always really with You
I have been sad but that sadness was You
I have been happy but that happiness was You
I have had my heart-broken - but always by You
I thought I learnt many things but they were all You
So many words of mine about You
Or are they, also, only Your words too?
Am I hiding behind them or are You?
Is there is only one, and there never was two?
The Beloved's Reply
The beginning of loving is becoming 'Me' in 'You'
To bring love into existence I became 'Me' and 'You'
Love separates and unites both 'You' and 'Me'
And between brings into being what needs be.
The Lover's Reply
You have broken my heart
And it really, really did hurt
Beloved
What an excellent start!
Remember Jacob and Joseph's Shirt!
Mevlana and Shems (I can't tell apart)?
Nizamuddin and Amir Khusro too?
And Majnun and Laila - Oh so true!
Lover
And what purpose can there be
In this game of You and me?
Beloved
The purpose is to bring into being
The actual fact, yes the material thing.
That is the evidence of the true love
In man and woman and heaven above.
Lover
And this talk now of you and me?
Beloved
Print out the poem - you will see.
JMZ Jan 25 2012
With Thy Love
By Thy signs inform me,
With Thy arms enfold me,
To Thy breast hold me,
With Thy love destroy me.
By Thy hand take me,
With Thy fragrance drown me,
By Thy look absorb me,
With Thy love destroy me.
By Thy Grace enchant me,
With Thy thought control me,
By Thy lip imbibe me,
With Thy love destroy me.
By Thy beauty excite me,
With Thy presence pervade me,
By Thy union calm me,
With Thy love destroy me.
What ‘Every Wise Man’s Son Doth Know*’
The beginning of a journey; preparing,
The start of a journey; departing,
The journey; striving,
Journey’s end; arriving.
And meeting,
And greeting,
And unpacking.
Of the journey, telling,
And then, looking,
And seeing,
Realising
Finally,
You are
Here!
(‘Journey’s end in lover’s meeting, every wise man’s son doth
know.’ *Twelfth Night –Shakespeare)
Who is He
It is not me making poetry,
Poems just come out of me.
The secret is surely only His,
As to whom the poet really is.
Wise Words
A paper boat stays afloat – for a while,
Absorbs the water, then sinks in style.
Words of wisdom stay not long in the mind,
But in the heart, lingering, them you’ll find.
What, How, and Why?
As to the What,
Many are the ways of Incomparable You!
Encompassing every kind of uniqueness,
Within Singularity which is what - You do
- somehow.
As to the How,
When I gave up the madness
Of wondering how You do it,
It started to make a different kind of sense
- somehow!
And as to the 'Why'.
Well Love, the self-evident,
Requires to make itself evident
So why would I ask 'why'
anyhow?
When I stopped asking questions of You
I found I knew the answers too,
- somehow!
The Wedding Night
Entering the bridal chamber, the groom, trying to cover with
gentle words,
Insinuating looks and quiet compliments, the hearts pounding
pace,
Gently approached her.
Covering his lips with her finger the bride threw aside the veil -
without words,
And guided a trembling hand to her breast, pulled him to her
tight embrace,
And ravished him all.
Through the window the moon's unblinking gaze cast
shadows on the wall,
Whilst below the balcony, musicians played and sang many a
ribald song.
The dancers danced, and to the bride and groom the people
drank their fill
Deep and long.
Deep and long.
In the morning, was it the warmth of the sun, they had to
wonder,
That melted the icicles, whose steady drip woke them from
their short slumber?
Was it the warm breeze from the west with its promise of
spring,
That to the faces a smile, and to the lips of the people good
words did bring?
Or was it some good news of the state, some epistle of
freedom,
That put a song in their hearts as they went to the tasks of the
kingdom?
Or was it love?
It was Love - and it never dies.
The beginning of a journey; preparing,
The start of a journey; departing,
The journey; striving,
Journey’s end; arriving.
And meeting,
And greeting,
And unpacking.
Of the journey, telling,
And then, looking,
And seeing,
Realising
Finally,
You are
Here!
(‘Journey’s end in lover’s meeting, every wise man’s son doth
know.’ *Twelfth Night –Shakespeare)
Who is He
It is not me making poetry,
Poems just come out of me.
The secret is surely only His,
As to whom the poet really is.
Wise Words
A paper boat stays afloat – for a while,
Absorbs the water, then sinks in style.
Words of wisdom stay not long in the mind,
But in the heart, lingering, them you’ll find.
What, How, and Why?
As to the What,
Many are the ways of Incomparable You!
Encompassing every kind of uniqueness,
Within Singularity which is what - You do
- somehow.
As to the How,
When I gave up the madness
Of wondering how You do it,
It started to make a different kind of sense
- somehow!
And as to the 'Why'.
Well Love, the self-evident,
Requires to make itself evident
So why would I ask 'why'
anyhow?
When I stopped asking questions of You
I found I knew the answers too,
- somehow!
The Wedding Night
Entering the bridal chamber, the groom, trying to cover with
gentle words,
Insinuating looks and quiet compliments, the hearts pounding
pace,
Gently approached her.
Covering his lips with her finger the bride threw aside the veil -
without words,
And guided a trembling hand to her breast, pulled him to her
tight embrace,
And ravished him all.
Through the window the moon's unblinking gaze cast
shadows on the wall,
Whilst below the balcony, musicians played and sang many a
ribald song.
The dancers danced, and to the bride and groom the people
drank their fill
Deep and long.
Deep and long.
In the morning, was it the warmth of the sun, they had to
wonder,
That melted the icicles, whose steady drip woke them from
their short slumber?
Was it the warm breeze from the west with its promise of
spring,
That to the faces a smile, and to the lips of the people good
words did bring?
Or was it some good news of the state, some epistle of
freedom,
That put a song in their hearts as they went to the tasks of the
kingdom?
Or was it love?
It was Love - and it never dies.
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