Ghazals For The Friend
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Category Archives: my own poetry
in our lost land of fast food and bad breath,
In our lost land of fast food and bad breath, we pray for the rapture to bless our death! Our resurrection will achieve liftoff. we will look down on those below and scoff. A mass ascension for the lucky few: … Continue reading
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May the muddied waters clear to reveal your face;
May the muddied waters clear to reveal your face; May the mirror be polished to reflect your grace. The wretched mind always repeats the same mistake- of forsaking the real and embracing the fake. The desire of self-image is brick … Continue reading
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This land is sacred because of the Master’s and Mehera’s blood
This land is sacred because of the Master’s and Mehera’s blood anointing earth. Splatters of grace will release a healing flood. The violent promise of America blossomed as a bloodied rose, and was offered as a tribute to genocide and … Continue reading
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Your love is a sacred fire of eternal flame,
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We hunger for the shards of light flashing from your eye;
We hunger for the shards of light flashing from your eye; May they wound our dark mind with brilliance until we die! Who, if we cried, would hear us among the many gods? The busy deities are such dull and … Continue reading
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The dawn breeze brought news of the crying rend
The dawn breeze brought news of the crying rend: He was all the night searching for the friend. From bar to bar he stumbled with graphic speech; No fool for long was beyond his wit’s reach! The lover with long … Continue reading
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A thousand times we have inscribed paper with your glorious name,
A thousand times we have inscribed paper with your eternal name, only to have shredded our efforts to praise you in bitter shame. We long to sing glorious song that delights your grave expression, and we cry to find the … Continue reading
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This life of consumerism is a contract inspired by faust:
This life of consumerism is a contract inspired by Faust: we sold our soul for desire, but now the mind is accursed! With pleasure comes pain as surely as cats’ play with mice; our pursuit of desire has rebounded as … Continue reading
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I run from the rotting stench of my precious thought,
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 … Continue reading
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In the old city of Poona, Sheriar’s cafe served everyman;
In the old city of Poona, Sheriar’s cafe served everyman; The lips of the matchless dervish repeated “Yezdan, Yezdan”! The fakir whose poverty was pure gold, never had ambition except to see his son revealed as the Zoroaster of his … Continue reading
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