Weekly Poems

Turn (5/14/17) I really keep turning around bad luck, keep borrowing trouble when I turn around myself, my illusions instead of You.   When I wake up in the morning half drunk, I go straight to my Cupbearer. I turn around Him. I ask for His help, His favor.   People More...

Union and Separation (9/11/16) There is nothing remaining in my ears except Love’s murmur. There is nothing remaining in my soul–no reason, no thought– only the sweetness of Eternity. The colorless brush of Love has mixed all colors. Now, it can’t remember its past. Rubailer, Page 164, Rubai #2 More...

Who Knows God? (4/30/17) In His eyes, both worlds resemble a piece of grain in front of a rooster. The eye that has seen Greatness is like that.   In the world of Union, the one who sees the attributes of the One who wants as being the same as those More...

Gamble with Your Life (4/23/17) Gamble with your life. Take every chance you can. You can’t reach His union by talking. They don’t serve milk to drunks by the glass of Sharia.* In the place where wine is served, they pour it only to those who have undressed from the “self.” More...

Grief Is Dead (4/16/17) Watch death. How does it come back to life? Look at how the free cypress has become a slave, a servant.   Watch and see how these loose, decayed boxes and coffins are filled with soul, with Love and knowledge.   That throat and mouth which More...

My Real Being (4/9/17) First, I learned about myself by imitating others. Although I was aware of my existence, I didn’t comprehend my being. Because I didn’t see, because I didn’t recognize myself, I was only hearing my name. When I went out of myself, I saw my real being.   More...

The Majesty, Power and Honor of Fasting (4/2/17) Close your mouth to bread. The sugar of fasting has come. You have seen the results of eating and drinking. Now let’s see the results of fasting.   That Sultan of a hundred countries has put a crown on your head. Quick, squeeze More...

A Slave (3/26/17) Do you think that I am my own master? That I control myself for even one moment? Like a pen, I depend on the One who writes with me. Like a ball, I am a slave of the Master who hits me with His club. Rubailer, Page More...

A Bridge (3/19/17) You are the nightingale of the garden meadows. But, with the grace of God, you can become the garden, the meadow and wind, even hundreds of nightingales.   Look at all these events, fights, retaliations in the world and see God. Look at the work of art More...

The Price (3/12/17) There is a place beyond faith and heresy that is not for all the young and pretty ones who want to get there. As the price, one has to give up their life and sacrifice their heart. Rubailer, Page 65, Rubai #3 More...