The Moon in My Cup

** With the moon in my cup.

I look up.

And all the hurt in my heart

Ripples out in the dark.

Pain doesn't travel that far. 

Or survive out of heart...

If the canopy spread wide above could catch my vibes,

Would it bend out of mercy?

Or repel all my cries?

I can't tell from my place, or the moon and its face,

I can't see a droplet out there,

Do they even care?

Each staring orb seems still as

My chest shakes

in its ache

for some sign to appear

But, oh, it's

A relief to know-

The Sustainer that placed the moon for reflection

And all the canopies layered high for protection

These creations feel nothing of my losses

Not one sigh will change their orbits and their courses

The One who Knows my pain,

Can Hold Up the galaxies,

me.

the tea.

My now

Overflowing cup.

There is Mercy

In these tears

So

Look up. Look up.

Chickn n' Biscuits (Your Stranger Friend 2)

Chickn ' biscuits

Because buffaloes can't fly.

Or maybe it's beefaloes, and they can....?

But you won't question why.

And a piccolo makes a trickling river go -
"Oh! That feels like a tickle on my neck!"

But you can't connect the two,
And so end up playing a pickled tune!

Leave the stink bugs in their places.

Send all book covers on vacation.

Read amongst the lily lies,
And flitter over alibis-

Wallabies meet their enemies - the bees,
And end up talking in the trees.

I'm glad they made their peace.
I was worried decades deep.

Bees always stung, but wallabies swung tails,
And both of them failed in their aggression-

Oh! Hey!
I have a suggestion.

Take all your hate and grate it on a leftover Mcsalad regurgitated by maggots,
Then bag it on a tractor and bury it in the entrails of a velociraptor where each molecule will burn from a sludgy gooey fuel...

Won't that be so cool?

Let's do this all together.

I think that might be better.

By barfing on each other's backs,
And messing up our tracks,
And disguising each other as clowns...
We prepared the other to drown
Into the lake
Of hate.

I don't choose that way.
Most of us don't.
Won't.
Shan't.
Shon't!!!

Swing your bat and bunt hate in our direction.
We'll scooper pooper it up!
We may call you out on your pitch,
But friend,
You can count
That we'll root-root-root!
Side by side - with you
in the dugout
Until that fiery sun goes down.




Speaking of fire. ..
Don't get me started on
Charred trash!
Dusted all our faces with their ridiculous ash,

We don't listen to jackals in boxes painted black,
Snapping heads off like Hungry Hippos on steroids
"Knock-knock"
No one can get through to them,
These guys are flying psycho-high on their sins!

No one righteous wants a cold ISIScle
Piercing their already burst lives,

Bullies - that will be the means
To their own demise.

"See you suckers!" We will say.
High fives go around.
Black, white, yellow, and brown,
We'll have a party
We'll have a festival of forgotten hate
And say
"Remember how we all once walked around this orb with just our tools and some furry drapes?"
Pictures passed down-
"Ha! Look how we loved to pick apart the bones on our neighbor's plate."
But we'll celebrate anyway-

The negative and positive
Neutrons and protons
Morons and Kahns, Rons, Haans, and Xians!


Oh, and we'll talk about our masks,
The ones we made for each other,
With plastered strips of fear smeared fingerpaints,
And exaggerated plumes of insane.

And we'll remove them and say
"Know what?
Your name's not that strange"
Your arms aren't branches to hang people by,
You hair - not leaves to smother - to torture or try
You don't have the sensitivity of a tree.
What in the fir cedar country?
You're just HUMAN - like me???


But you haven't heard - we're not so silent about this, you see.

When the wolves terrorize all,
Our leaves are usually the first ones to fall
From their terrible slashes!
Our words shred by their-
Hyena screened extractions
Ripped up stories-
Mostly not reported

When this happens
We go up to the mountains and double-dip a megaphone in a satellite dome
To say:

Hey world!!!
Our hearts aren't that cold!
Don't you know???
Our messages may sound old...but please don't confuse a simple shroom
For that despicable black mold!

Ohhh mannnn
Who needs chickn n' biscuits?
We need more like a feast to feed this peace!
Instead of our efforts being swallowed by the burping bloated beast.

So get your ham-eating woodchucks and Chihuahuas,
I'll get my buffaloes and my butterfly kicks,
Armed with pens-
We'll ride with our books into intellectual conversation
Where the general's orders surrender us with "patience!"
And the rules and regulations give us time for explanations

From weevils to buffalos-
We expose the evils and the swiss cheese holes,
Together,
Listen to the wind against the gaps in our souls.
We work
Together
To plug them up with the knowledge-
The gold.
Together.
We will
Salt no slugs!
Crush no bugs!
Promise to solely beat the existing dust out of our own raggedy rugs...
And walk the earth without a grudge!

And I hope we don't wake the sloths in us up!
I hope we don't digress when we tried our best and let's confess
That these recent depictions are preposterous!
Pretending most rhinoceros' are rhinoplastic surgeons who shoot up using urchins...???


Uhhh that doesn't even happen!

Yeah.
So.
I'm just rapping.
Keep your fingers snapping
In rhythm
To different beats of the heart

Keep it going!
Green boat rowing-
Cows not lowing,
Buffalos -  neither seen them, nor are they tiptoeing

And when you're finished.
Please - 
don't ignore the spinach!....

Because it's good for you!
(Yeah, I brought this back to food.)

Chickn n' biscuits!

Beefing ' Buffaloes!

And as
Your stranger friend,
God only knows,
I could be, too.

Your Stranger Friend

Forget everything you know about Muslims. Erase that word.
From your mind.
Erase images of folded creased materials wrapped in circular fashion on heads or scattered dark images of those with coffee colored skin in the desert. Angry faces you don't know. Angry faces you assume belong on all those who seem Arab or Muslim...or are they the same? Forget all of this. Forget what you were fed. Because it's only what you think you know.
There's a different story.
You're looking at an oyster...focusing only on its shell all rippled and seemingly unbalanced... Unbeknownst to you, within it glows something gorgeous and bright... A pearl - lonely and still.
 Before you back away... Because I dress that way. Or my husband's name sounds strange. Yes, we have friends named Muhammad, but we have friends named Luis, Sarah, and Noah, too. And they're Muslim... Muslim, I say.... But forget those names - connotations cast away.
So let me put it like this.

Picture this.

Instead.


You wake up from sleep. You are searching for togetherness. You are lonely in your heart. It is empty. Those around you worship money, cars, drugs, themselves, a band, or something tangible and replaceable and obsessions take the form of an imbalanced state. You feel sick... You want out of this space. You want truth. You know the earth is billions of years old. You love the science... But this time you want to feel it. Know the Milky Way and be excited like a child when you see a shooting star...dip your toes into the river and let your bones reap the relief felt in this  temporal life, But, little do you know, that your soul aches for home... You want to Love your neighbors...give your all..Bake a cake - get a rake -instead of a passing glint on your heart... Sometimes it's just too much of a bother to care. You're too lazy to care.. And you know that dinosaurs existed... Way before you. So there you have it. You are small already... And that should just be enough to put you in your not so egocentric place...but why do we all feel lost without somebody or something to love???
Even a cold hearted man might snap back "this ain't true"   Though, he sure loves his cigarettes and Jack.

Crap, I've been there before! And then you want to know why people believe... What's the point??!
But emptiness swallows you up and loneliness never felt lonelier. I wanted out of the superficial and fake. I wanted to see the tips of our human race... The roots in my face. The lists of the prophets -

Proof!!! I begged!

prove it to me!

 I'd say to the man with his heart in my hand, and mine in his and a - click click - all puzzle pieces in place. Adam and Eve story suddenly not so literal and laughable but rooted in science and seriousness -  a fable no more -  table turned up to wipe clean smears from these names and false claims from twists in the tongue ...now clearer and nearer to my heart.

Check.
Jesus the messiah? An actual human being?

Check.

 The fact that there were messengers sent to all communities of mankind? Check.

 Moses = a righteous prophet who with God's permission saved the Jews? Check!

 People practicing what they preach ... Flooring me with hospitality and respect from men I have never seen from any other tradition.
Check!.

 Respect for women. CHECK!!!

 Mary having her own chapter in the book I call not mine but ours because it's for you, too. She was tough - never weak... listen to her speak!.

 Check!

 And you don't have to run to the statues or cry at their feet. Any place...  anytime...Anywhere!

 God is closer to you than your life vein. But scary pictures place not in your brain. No depictions  of an old man and the sea. A humble fool God is not. I learned this all... I felt complete. Lined up in a row - all the truths.. Explanations abundant of the paranormal and events appearing abnormal, not  brushed off 'omg it's satan' or 'omg a 'ghost' .
We like to ask questions - we don't cover up what exists. We don't ignore what science shows or what history claims to know. Because this rhythm flows within whatever story you sow. This flows not just in sand,  maybe it eventually came to a final bloom in that land...did you know Ishmael's beautiful descendant lived there - and,  didn't you know some nation would come out of that fact? This story flows from there and across the world. This story was there all along. Some listened- some didn't. God is One. Those who didn't listen forgot... Those who listened went on. Knowledge never came from foolery and fools. Slaves built the pyramids - skilled in hand - oppressed in the land -  I'll call them our brothers and sisters because they refused to worship a foolish man. We pray for the oppressed and we always want what's best... For the other as well as ourselves. When something bad happens we don't cry 'the devil did it' and escape the realities of a balanced earth. Only God has control, yet we have free will. The angels are programmed to worship, but we have multiple chances to learn. Don't think of angels like your ornaments and treasures. Think phenomenon - not
 cherub!

Clear  your mind of past grime. String these pearls in a line...

We don't laugh for no reason, and we are sensitive to others. Look us in the eye and we'll look back. We don't talk smack and we'll say it how it is. Balancing mercy and justice. I hope you soften at the sight of our actions in direct or indirect light. Fully present and aware. The whole universe reflects the truth in this faith. Details lain down to the development of an embryo. Or  mysteries in
space. Not a mystery to me. And the answer isn't just 'God did it... So I give up.' Hurdeehurrr
 No.
Knowing the facts but energized by the divine and theories fly between my eyes as I gaze in wonder. It leaves a poetic print on my brain and heart, but sends the scientist in me out to see the stars.


 This  is not a time line package deal.
"So basically your belief started from this date to this date?" No. I'm saying this idea was always there.. People of the book  knew, and came in crowds to hear the news. Open hearted and open minded to the possibility of a guide. Not disillusioned,, as they always scraped at the past and the clues to the path. Didn't cover up the facts. And when each messenger came they understood why he claimed what he claimed without yearning for fame. The betterment of humanity. Sometimes Shuffled to the side.. Muddled and muffled, attempts were made... In and out of so many ears..

Hey- What will be - will be.
So it finally was completely revealed in this specific land in that year - there's a reason for everything... Even more so in this case. This is a universal puzzle that connects square one's couple among others with the final message place. Get what I'm saying?

We have a solid understanding of God . The names say it so clearly you cannot doubt. Think metaphysics and spiritual but without distractions of a chorus. The Ten Commandments and so much more without feeling like you got jipped...
like 'hey, where's the rest of our story?'

"Why do we need to know these people from thousands of years ago? Clumps of frumpy clothes in moldy time! How  does this relate to my modern life... Aren't you just a reenactment of a past lie?"


No. Last messenger means the last. But it doesn't mean forget. It means you take lessons from the
best teacher in the world ever - I mean, ever! with the best advice and guidelines made clear from the Sustainer...

You now make the colors reflecting off each dew drop glow with your meaningful steps as you move forward in time in technology, art, architecture, and every subject and genre.

 Who doesn't want to learn from the best? From the beginning of time til Ishmael's descendant was given a mission.. The Messiah  made this clear what was to come.  A complete book. A complete message. Knowledge for those who seek it...No missing letters words or accents. For all...in any state... No need to change your cultural face.. And don't we know...Things come slowly to humankind because it takes a while for us to admit our mistakes- to accept and embrace the idea to submit - when all our ego wants is  to walk and talk with arrogance, and not grace. Things came down slowly on purpose for the human race...



So did I mention any camels? Or Saudi Arabia or shariah law? (which btw came later and is a human invention...the human's way of trying to package this uncontainable 'way of life'  - its flexibility, a budding beauty, unraveling layers of meanings and interpretation....into a way of law... Not taking into account the specifications for individuals and situations, but who wants to have an educational discussion - let's not learn anything!!!! But that's besides the point)

These things are surface labels. You are looking through dark lenses, without sensing their pretenses.

Look deeper.
Look under rocks and see a wisdom in how ants march on.
Look under water at how sharks seem full of spite but are actually doing everything... Just right.
Look at how we can't place a platypus in its supposed category... Is it a joke? Are we the smartest? Or is there something else.
Look in your book and ask yourself: what do I believe? Did I read ALL of this? Do I believe every bit?

Because I do.


Then ask yourself... Do I really know this stranger?


If my heart - struck by their words of gold - ached for more...Would I seek the company of this stranger?

If a genuine hand reached out when all other grips failed, would I hold onto ... This kind stranger?

If my tears melted at the softness of its petals to realize there really are no thorns...
Would I fall in love with this stranger?

This stranger.
That's So "strange" to the world.
" The friend I'll possibly never know...."


Introducing. (in my erratically poetic way to say)

Your stranger friend.

Islam



The Messenger of God, peace and blessings be upon him, said, “Islam began as a something strange and it will return to being strange, so blessed are the strangers.”

The Olive Tree

Perception and reflection take me back to days when-

blood upon red and brown skin,
whip cracks on the ground,
earth colored with corpses,
screams only heard by the wind.

The forgotten ones - how we've chosen to send them away!

We exile them to our books, to once upon a time...
they live there now and so -

No regret beats down the pride hiding in the hard hearts of men -

When he turns a new page on a distant land -

Where brothers and neighbors let rage set fire to their stage -

Repeating a run of a show that's already been done -

Fight to the death - blame and shame -  who and how had it begun?

"turn thy head" and be gone, once a peaceful 'turn thy cheek'.

See how freedom takes sides as truth dares to speak?

Brothers and sisters...World!
Is this -

humanity?
Or insanity???



In the land of the Prophets.

where
Mercy weeps
and
Remembrance sleeps

in the branches of
the blessed olive tree...

Holding tongue

Oh God...

Make firm and steady my heart!

For these words I may send - flying to the skies!

So help me...capture them in the dark,

Let them not lift off this eager tongue!

They must stay - unsung.

To reflect on what happens to the bee - once it has stung.


So let the night go on.

And this lark.

Shall radiate.

With Silence.

Layers

 (Note: found an old poem I wrote in a book of mine - new poems will be up soon iA...enjoy)



It is said that a broken heart is the best vessel to welcome faith.

Caverns of cocooned space that await,

Where stones have bashed its face,

Silently...

solely waiting for faith to take its place.


I am a person.

I make mistakes.

I'm not unlike a simple caterpillar eating its way through life.

With an appointed time set.

Always under the impression that -
I'm not. there. yet.

Have I prepared for there?

Running away with my thoughts as the dish ran away with the spoon...

Forget about the muse...
Turn off that music...

Muffled my senses - had me crashing into fences...
What was behind each intention?

My mother in law says "dort dortlukken olmaz".

...Nothing is perfect.

Just then...!

a door slams in a face.

Repeatedly.



The old man. Strong iman.
With the bristle brush mustache,
He tells the strange story of his late brother in such a matter of fact tone...
You'd wonder if he ever shed tears - or how many walls he must have built up to cry behind after all of those years...


It's those closest to us that hurt us the most.
A word can be a dagger.
A phrase - a violent shake.
Accusations!
Shoot out into a slew of arrows.
But it's the Silence that sends us over as it just electrocutes the sorrows.


Pain is an unusual time traveler.
Sometimes it simmers to a stop! Or boils until HOT.


Drinking coffee too much? Check.
Dreaming too much? Check.

Instigating double-edged stings while meandering the meadows...
Yes.

And then.
There were.
The Bees.

I could stand in front of their glassed in hive for hours just looking for the queen.
Where was she???
 Deep in their trance. Eyes following their dance.
Noise.
Must be working overdrive.
Circling around.
Press against the capsule to hear a soft buzzing sound.
I'm there. In the crowd.
And so we come to the darkened layer under the hovering hum of anger.

Sadness.

Where to hide it?
Behind the glass wall?
Beyond the horizon?
Through the lock in the closed forevermore door?

And where's the door to reality?
The one I've been thirsting for?


If life has given me a blind eye to saturate its signs...
Would its opposite be obliged to teach me the divine?


The scholars say it's like walking arm and arm in the dark.
Marching forward.
Blindfolded.
Each person assigned to their own pit in which they'll fall to leave their mark.

Death,
the best reminder.

So while you have time... don't ask people why they never helped you.
Ask yourself why you never asked God for help in the first place.

Before reaching in to paint with your own heart's blood,
trust through and through - in what was written down for you...

So now
Deep in my garden
Eye to eye with a butterfly,
Dressed in all its shimmering glory,
Thin powdery wings proving the true strength and length of our story...
Feasting on its reward from the fragrant-filled flowers.
Oh...the parallel of a parable.
How I'm so relieved in what-
was promised is true.
There's no doubt in bloom.
World...you cannot save me...I'm wrapped up in your rooms.

I'm here...

for now....

Sabir...it's soon!


Then there's the flutter in my soul that hopes-
One day,
I, too
Shall fly...

A traveler

She's a sentimental one that looks

through microscopes, under stacks of books,
past plumes of dust, face pressed against floors....

Then DIVES!
Crash!
Against the parade of waves.
Hugs and tugs faraway rocks,
Peers into watered down wells - shouts those names - lungs overwhelmed
Trooper in stride, she hopes
......or maybe she just dwells...

Takes her traveled hands...

Blows a sweet breeze over boiling springs,

Rain ignores her - adores her, then strikes her with lightning,

Waves to fair-weather horizons - bone cold are the skies,

Shrugged off of mountains - left clinging to the sides,

Vertebrae up. Shaken to sighs,

"I must find the rest."

Stuck in this muck of a yesteryear test,

Fumbles through fog, unsure...undecided,

Grapples gazing green jungles - suffocates inside,

Under arm - carries
solid heart.
slips, falls -
fails to crush iced over walls

Searches the world for them all as if she needs to keep leading

Keeps coming near - keeps retracing her tracks - no chips on her shoulder - no weight on her back

Casts off old burdens too heavy for holding.
Throws them off cliffs! "Don't care how you know me!"

Left with the world to distract her.
A distractor. She the reactor.

Alone.

Sun stares right back at her.


She whispers...

"No one wants to ask why the world is balanced by storms.

They simply sit in beached boats buried into the shore...

And if they never want to know -

Then something must go..."


So she pushes past pasts - sprints off the sand
- plunges deep down away from those lost in the lands

Surfaces - A breath! A moment of peace.

Looks to the stars
to reflect on her scars
and what seeps through the skin of her thoughts comes






The Mercy of the worlds.

The one who let go...
Just...let it all go.
Treaded here as a traveler, but kept a sound soul.
As he trusted and knew this was not in his control.


And she feels her fingers loosen their tightly tangled grasp...

the twisted twine

the tangible trials

what turbulent tasks.



Heart echoes thunder -

splinters tear flesh -

slipping her grip -

life rough through the gaps


.


and then the world floats up and up...a marbled balloon once known
and soon it's just...
a speck.
swirls of colors aglow
in a drop...
in her palms that are cupped
now.
let. go.




“Be in this world as if you were a stranger or a traveler.” - Prophet Muhammad (pbuh)