The Eternal Marifah

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Hayy! Hayy! The Marifah!

When the lights they reveal what you really are

Hayy! Hayy! The Marifah!

When the secrets are near but you’re searching far

Hayy! Hayy! The Marifah!

His Eternal Marifah!

.

Jon was a don and a superstar

Who was rich and revered and so popular,

But the worldly success it had left the scars

From the chars of the Mardi gras

.

So, he sought for a cure in the lands afar

For the emptiness from the caviar

But he ended up in a boulevard

On the coasts of Zanzibar

.

Serving on a stall, in the street bazaar

Stood a dervish youth from the isle Pemba

Jon was drawn to him with his heart’s radar

And he told him of his scars:

.

“I need some reprieve for my ailing heart

It is subsiding like a collapsar

All my luxuries they are avatars

Save me from my deep gula!”

.

The dervish arose like a rising shah

With a gleam in his mien like a shining star

And he spoke with a voice like a rare nectar

With his eyes, piercing pulsars:  

.              

“The cravings of life are an abattoir

Which slaughter the souls in a pink boudoir!

Only One can repair, with His Marifah!

Closer than your jugular!

.

“Hayy! Hayy! The Marifah!

When you bow to the One, it will soothe your scars

Hayy! Hayy! The Marifah!

When you’re close to the One who knows who you are

Hayy! Hayy! The Marifah!

His Eternal Marifah!”

.

“Hayy! Hayy! The Marifah!

When the lights they reveal what you really are

Hayy! Hayy! The Marifah!

When the secrets are near but you’re searching far

Hayy! Hayy! The Marifah!

His Eternal Marifah!”

Notes:

Hayy! Hayy!- Arabic- alive- a reference to the divine name: Al Hayy- The Living One- some recite the name to draw closer to Allah Most High

Marifah- Arabic- knowledge (of God- mystical closeness to the Divine Reality)

Gula- Latin- gluttony, greed- one of the seven deadly sins

The Mirror and the Dust

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A wayward speck of dust settled on my mirror

A trifle, so it seemed, I left it untouched

Then some flecks piled on this particle

Engrossed in otherness, I left them to reside

But when I next regarded the reflection

I found it laden, littered, sullied and soiled

And whilst I strained to scrub it all aside

A glut of sludge plastered my looking glass

My mirror now became a breeding ground

For parasites casting a turbid mound

Then I wept a deluge of regret

It washed away the grunge and stinking mess

And light shone through the glass, which made me smile

But then a speck settled, after a while…

MACBETH ZUBAYR

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Cash is king.

Witches artwork copyright of SChalabi

This short story is loosely based on the plot and characters of William Shakespeare’s, Macbeth.

Parental advisory- this story explores adult themes and contains horror.

    “Masha Allah Bro!”

    After bursting into Sarfraz’s room, Zubayr and Abbas marvelled at the sight before them. Sarfraz sat piously, white skullcap wrapped around his head, a guidebook to Muslim prayers in his hand.

    “I guess you won’t be coming out…” Zubayr began.

    Sarfraz looked up from his book. He was reading prayers the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, said to ward off evil spirits and Satan himself. He now glanced at his friends’ immaculately presented, tight, designer jeans, polo tops and gelled hair: “Depends what you mean by out.”

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The Sun Rises

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‘The night comes in / Like some cool river’ Richard Thompson

The Sun rises

In my grieving heart

And now the Light

Soothes all the pain

Feel the daylight

Embracing the grief

Of the world, which turn us insane

The Sun rises

And now my heart breathes

And the Love

Is all that I see

Deeper than blood

Which runs through the veins

And the fears fade into the Light

The Sun rises

Sheening all my dreams

With a gold

That glows eternally

Even if foes

From hidden angles

Besiege my heart

The Light shelters me

Peace eternal

And flowing blessings

On the one

The Sun of the hearts

And upon his

Blessed companions

And his kin

The bearers of the Light

    Natural Mystic

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    There’s a natural mystic blowing through the air. Bob Marley

    There’s a natural mystic glow in the unseen

    And to feel it quaff the goblet of tawheed

    You can feel it in Malcolm

    In his mesmerising smile

    In the trials that he suffered

    In his righteousness and style

    I don’t tell no lie

    There’s a natural mystic deep reality

    And to taste it, love the Only Deity

    Feel the warmth of Ali’s fire

    Grasp the rain of his words

    In the ring, the unsurpassable

    In the hearts, he turns alive

    I don’t tell no lie

    There’s a natural mystic shimmering finesse

    If you purge the self, you’ll feel its dear caress

    Like the gracious Mother Khadijah

    The pearl of New York

    In the beauty of her service

    In the deepness of her eyes

    Can’t keep them down

    There’s natural mystic, blowing through the air

    Notes:

    Personalities referred to in the poem:

    Malcolm X

    Muhammad Ali

    Mother Khadijah

    Bob Marley

    May Allah illuminate their secrets and teach us beneficial lessons through their lives, ameen

    I found out about Mother Khadijah from the link below:https://sapelosquare.com/…/profile-mother-khadijah-faisal/

    A Tribute To Rabi Al Awwal: The Story of the Trench

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    With a strike on the rock!

    And the lights appeared!

    And a smite on the block!

    There’s no grief or fear!

    In the fifth of the year

    Deep in the Shawwal

    Stirring hearts dug a trench

    By the great Dhubab

    Enemies far and near

    Were conspiring high

    To destroy the new faith

    To observe it die

    Outnumbered, facing death

    Odds did not look good

    But the hope did not die

    And the Prophet stood

    With a strike on the rock!

    And the lights appeared!

    And a smite on the block!

    There’s no grief or fear!

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