The Brilliance of the Moon

It's the fifteenth of a lunar month tonight
So the moon will be a bright disk of light
But tonight is no simple, ordinary night
And the moon will be more than just bright

Those will see, who are blessed with sight
That it's intensity seems to have doubled in might
And it shows by shining twice as bright
The sacred importance of this holy night

A years livelihood is determined in these hours
As the faithful come together and supplicate
Having total faith in the Almighty's powers
Only he has the submissive heart's confidence

But even more than that this night is special
As the eve of the birth of the twelfth prince
And amidst sending congratulations to one and all
We determine to become better servants hence

So if tonight you see the brilliance if the moon
Know that his face shines more brighter still
And in his reappearance, which we hope soon
We renew our allegiance, and reshape our will

A Few Gems

Thoreau's Walden is my favouritest book ever (yes, I know it should be "most favourite", but meh). Recently I downloaded and read another book by him, called Walking, which is just brilliant. Its like a long essay - there is only one chapter, but its long enough to be worthy of publication as a book in its own regard, as has happened already, and cheap copies abound on amazon. In a nutshell, it is an ode to wildness in nature, as well as in gentle (or not) opposition to civilisation and culture.

The following are just a few quotes from the book itself. All of them, it seemed to me, had some profound wisdom that merited re-reading and reflecting upon. Enjoy.

*****

If you are ready to leave father and mother, and brother and sister, and wife and child and friends, and never see them again—if you have paid your debts, and made your will, and settled all your affairs, and are a free man—then you are ready for a walk.

*****

My spirits infallibly rise in proportion to the outward dreariness. Give me the ocean, the desert, or the wilderness!

*****

A truly good book is something as natural, and as unexpectedly and unaccountably fair and perfect, as a wild-flower discovered on the prairies of the West or in the jungles of the East. Genius is a light which makes the darkness visible, like the lightning's flash, which perchance shatters the temple of knowledge itself—and not a taper lighted at the hearthstone of the race, which pales before the light of common day.

*****

Indeed, the life of cattle, like that of many men, is but a sort of locomotiveness; they move a side at a time, and man, by his machinery, is meeting the horse and the ox halfway.

*****

I rejoice that horses and steers have to be broken before they can be made the slaves of men, and that men themselves have some wild oats still left to sow before they become submissive members of society. Undoubtedly, all men are not equally fit subjects for civilization; and because the majority, like dogs and sheep, are tame by inherited disposition, this is no reason why the others should have their natures broken that they may be reduced to the same level.

*****

Some travelers tell us that an Indian had no name given him at first, but earned it, and his name was his fame; and among some tribes he acquired a new name with every new exploit. It is pitiful when a man bears a name for convenience merely, who has earned neither name nor fame.

*****

...for what is most of our boasted so-called knowledge but a conceit that we know something, which robs us of the advantage of our actual ignorance? What we call knowledge is often our positive ignorance; ignorance our negative knowledge.

*****

We see only the flowers that are under our feet in the meadows.

*****

So we saunter toward the Holy Land, till one day the sun shall shine more brightly than ever he has done, shall perchance shine into our minds and hearts, and light up our whole lives with a great awakening light, as warm and serene and golden as on a bankside in autumn.

[END]
EDIT: Upon reflection, I don't know if I could do the same for Walden, or for Emerson's Essays. I'd probably end up posting the whole lot verbatim, for it seems to me that every other line in those two have some profound insight worth reflecting on. I can only but recommend each wholeheartedly.

[Fiction] He & She

Where is she?
The only one, able to complete me?

I'm here!

Hmm - I thought I heard something there.
Nevermind. Where was I? Oh, yes -
Where is she?
Who will make me whole?
And with whom I will build
A house of complete harmony?

Hello? I'm right here!!!!

There it goes again.
A sort of high pitched squeal
I wonder what that could be?

UGH!!! HERE!!!

Oh, my apologies.
Who are you?

I am the answer to all those questions!

No you're not.
Move along now, shoo!
I am!
Are not!

Disprove me!

Interesting choice of words…
"Disprove me" instead of "prove it"
OK. I'm intrigued. Let's try this.
Ready?
Yes

You read The Book?
I do
And fast and pray?
I do
And other assorted Good Deeds?
Not as much as I want, but I do my best.
And of music?
I don't
You like to read?
I do
And your fave book?
Walden
Seriously!?!?!
Yes
That's awesome.

Uhmmm...
[…]
You like kids?
I LOVE kids
Simple or huge wedding?
Simple
And lifestyle?
Simple, minimalist.
Fave type of humour?
Sarcasm which gently teases

[Pause]

hmm….
Running out of questions, eh?
No I'm not!!!
Then?
Give me a few seconds!!!!

OK, got a few.

Marvel or DC?
You're seriously going to ask me that?
Yes I am. It's crucially important.
Fine. Marvel.
Really? Hmm…
Surprised?
Yes I am. Full marks.
Yay!
OK…Fave coulour?
Again…seriously?
Yup
OK. Black, dark green, dark cyan.
OK…this is too freaky.
Do you like logic puzzles?
Well, now that you mention it
I have a miniaturised Rubik's cube
hanging on my keychain
Woah. Wow.

But...
I'm flawed
Who isn't?
And I have debts
Irrelevant
Big, bad, scary, debts?
I'm not afraid
And I don't know….
don't know…
how to love
I'll teach you.
And I suffer from
bouts of self-hate
I'll heal you.
And self doubt?
I'll support you.

I have to ask
what do you see in me?
What I see is enough for me
And if you had faith in yourself
you'd see it too

I don't believe it
You've answered every question right.
Whohoo!!
Even those which I was sure
had no possible right answer
and have scared others away.
Which means....

Which means?

Which means you are too good to be true.
Either I've imagined you, in which case, begone
Or you're real, in which case you're too good for me
And deserve your own equal...so twice begone.

*Shrugs* Your loss

I guess it is.
Now, where was I?
Ahh yes.

Where is she?

The Adornment of the Worshippers

Who can pray like you, O Sajjad? (as)
Who was found in prostration so much
that your forehead and palms had wounds
and the act and your name are now linked?
Who else genuflected a thousand times a day
yet so absorbed that the wind could him sway?
I ask again - who can pray like you?
Who had supplication after supplication
brilliant gems in praise of the Almighty
unmatchable in style and content
Spring forth from your blessed lips?
The Pslams of Islam, sister to the Quran
Blessed are we to have these pearls collected
and lucky is he who reads these prayers perfected
Whose supplications melt the hardest heart
Showing your adoration for your true Beloved
No doubt was prayer your sweetest pleasure
now thanks to you we have keys to that treasure
But let it not be said that you neglected duty to pray
You were the secret helper of the poor and needy
and fulfilled completely the rights of one and all
By example you led, and countless tears you shed
Perfect in every way is this divinely appointed title
of the Adornment of the Worshippers

The Perfect House

I made it beautiful over time
From the shell it had been before
Making it the envy of one and all
Ensuring every aspect reflected me
Antique furniture, Persian rugs
Rooms painted in that unique blue
Aluminium and glass wherever I could
Tasteful prints and arty posters
A library of the greatest books
And all the gadgets and mod cons
More than I ever actually needed
And when this project was over
And there was nothing left to do
And I was still empty inside, then
I wept. In my perfect house
Because that was all it was
A house, but not a home
And an empty one at that
For I used the excuse of the project
To neglect everything else
Only to then find in the end
It was all beyond worthless
For there is no salvaging of time
Would that my house were empty
And as simple as a mud hut
But filled with love and joy
And that my rooms were bare
But I could pray contentedly
And give thanks to the Almighty
And of the emptiness once felt inside
That distorted this gift of life
For that, give twice thanks
that it no longer within resides

A new style of poetry writing...

Exhibit A:


Exhibit B:


It's like I can truly capture ideas as and when they come to me. Most of them end up being in free verse, without any rhyme structure, but they seem to flow nicely in any case. I tend to try keeping within the confines of the narrow window for every line, so end up with a large bunch of relatively short lines in these poems. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing...

Darts

what can we say about words
intended to harm rather than heal
Of which form it matters not
Big and crude, or small yet sharp
like loading poison into tiny darts
and aiming it all for another's heart
only needing one to hit it's mark
And then two types of damage are done
Then s/he who was not is now hurt
Even if the words said ring true
"Two-faced liar, hypocrite, coward"
Though this be only minor compared
To the deeper effects of repeated such
The erection of protective shields
As the hurt one grows a thicker skin
And laces it with cynic spikes
Now even good words and kind acts
Fail to pierce the protective shell
As all that really matters now
Is to never be so hurt again
Don't mention sticks and stones -
Words are the real thing

Hypocrisy III

************
Hypocrisy
Hypocrisy II

************
Who can see behind every noble act
And discern the intention within?
And then be able to tell whether
Acclaim is merited or not?
For even with these here verses
These very lines, words and phrases,
One can never be too sure
That he who writes does so for good...
Or merely to win a girl's heart, or two.
Using some small skill with words
To bend hearts for gain instead of truth
But even if there were no spectators
And this corner was invisible to all
One may just merely have swapped idols
Changing the altar of public opinion
And it's cousin, private approval
And gone on to worship the biggest idol
That of his own egotistical self
Satisfied that whatever it deigned to do
Is, was, will be, enough in itself
To please and take care of the Almighty
Living under the most costly illusion
And never worrying as to intention

And the solution?

Only one, the simplest possible:
To start with Him, and end with Him,
Make sure all in between is for Him
And then true works of art shall flow
On paper, in speech, in life itself.
For only by putting His pleasure first
Can we be happy with our results 

...

I held an idea in my hand
In the shape of silken string
And it shone so as to reflect
Silvertongued words put to it
Upon it I built some other ideas
Like weaving together strands
Of different silken threads
As they tied into each other
"This links with this, and this
But not with that, or that
And as for this, who knows?
But can I link these two
That none have linked before?"
And so they support each other
And then made a whole tapestry
Of silken thread and silver words
Which in parts contrasts vividly
And in others complements gently
And shines in day or night
Which I then hung upon my wall
And invited others to admire
And all did, save for one smart one
Who gazed deep to see one strand loose
And pulled out the wayward thread
Not knowing it's important state
For as we build idea upon idea
A strong foundation is needed first
But my towering edifice had no such
As I built ideas just on themselves
And as for the one she pulled out
It was the initial and primal one
Without which all just collapses
So where tapestry hung is now a pile,
A beautiful and brightly coloured mess
Of silken thread and silver words...

...

Iron is as Iron does, and worthy of the name
is he who in his conduct puts us all to shame
Attributes that reflect perfectly the chosen metal
tough, strong, rugged, protective of rose's petal
though above all else, what I really admire
is your conduct in denial of your heart's desire.
A willingness to leave all, in faith of greater good
and belief in Him, who plans better than we could.

one road closes, and another opens
and maybe new, better pathways beckon,
and relentlessly refusing to remain still,
seemingly bending reality to your will,
soon making real what was just a dream
she'll wear black as you wear white,
as both of you move towards the light

And as for talk about reality bending...
Maybe this tale has a happy ending?