Ghazals For The Friend
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- Avatar Meher Baba On War
- Big Fist will appoint a new hatchet for carnage
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- Modi’s government’s attack on Meherabad
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- Karma Vs. Dharma
- Making sense of politics…
- Yet more thoughts on AI, the Machine Age, aka the Kali Yuga
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Category Archives: my own poetry
All my love all my hate
All my love all my hate cries out to expiate for my indifference: the Master is my fate. Print Friendly
Posted in quatrains
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The well of remembrance draws not from memory
The well of remembrance draws not from memory, but from the fount of Silence that is creativity. Do you remember, do you forget, the stillness of rose unfolding? Such is how the longing spirit boldly grows. Bolbol, singing from the … Continue reading
Posted in english language ghazals
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Ghazal #96 from Ghazals For The Friend
I run from the rotting stench of my precious thought, But cannot find the pure, sweet breeze of I am not! The sweet grace of Lord and Master will set me free, When I submit myself to grace and cease to … Continue reading
Posted in english language ghazals
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Ayatollah Queen
God help us, God save us, from the Ayatollah Queen: may we never parade before the mirror and preen. May we never pump our spirit with precious fatwa, and pass our droll days preaching on the latrine. Print Friendly
Posted in quatrains
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Big Fist and the gods of doublethink command our praise
Big Fist and the gods of doublethink command our praise; we have become devoted to flag waving all our days. The corporation now wears a crown as a religious right, with the grasping public gasping with spiritual malaise. How did … Continue reading
Posted in english language ghazals
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Rose twines the derelict
Rose twines the derelict, graces old and cracked brick: love adorns the broken, but sighs for the perfect. Print Friendly
Posted in my own poetry, quatrains
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Ghazal #42 from Ghazals For The Friend
Step after step we track you searching for some sign; The salt of our tears burns our throat as your sweet wine. We bear your living presence in our longing heart- But your curls and dancing eyes, we can’t live … Continue reading
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Die, my love, to the dawn’s light
Die, my love, to the dawn’s light; Die, my friend, to all my strength. Die, pretender, to the bright Mercy of your longed for death! Print Friendly
Posted in quatrains
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The Machine Age grinds and lurches to its beautiful end
The Machine Age grinds and lurches to its beautiful end, As the ugly spirit of Iron breaks and rusts into oblivion. Zarathustra was the first Prophet of this Kali Yug; He brought Fire to forge Spirit, not smelt ore into … Continue reading
Posted in english language ghazals
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I drink and drink and lift my ruby glass
I drink and drink, and lift my ruby glass; How, O how can I forget her- promise? Smash the mirror, O smash the mirror, now; What else to do when she finds me- remiss? And what to say, yes, what … Continue reading
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