July 15, 2016

Being human is very strange

we are ejected into this realm

some say -- with parents previously chosen

others say -- through random selection

Holy books state it is prewritten destination

Our being encapsulated into form

imprisoned within the fabrication of bounds and limitations

our atoms mostly empty space

but we embody race, DNA

some say -- we are made of clay

some say -- we are God made

others say -- we are evolutionary creatures with no purpose past this state of being

Certain masters claim that this experience is all illusion

like a nightmare or a dream

and we are not truly living

take a breath

it seems real to the senses

Born - live - die

some say -- only to live again

millions of years of reincarnation

not to mention the possibility

of other galaxies, universes parallel existences

Born into opportunity

some born as kings

others into abject poverty

to die straight away from malnutrition

Perhaps to go to heaven

or to be born again as a dolphin

or some other unknown entity

in some far off galaxy

We are brought...

July 8, 2016

We need leaders to lead


We need structure


organisation


We need to fit in


We need to be accepted in society


We need to be told, to be guided


We need to be devoted


and offer our support


come what may


We need an enemy


We need a competitor


We need something to strive for


We need purpose


We need money, fiat currency


even if it is unreal


We need to buy stuff


and make a living


and generate the economy


no matter the means


the ends are justified in each mind


We need illusion


We need to be lied to


We need to be instructed on reality


We need not see, hear or speak


We need each other


on either side of the coin


friend or foe


We need something to die for
 

February 15, 2016

February 15, 2016

My life is art:

 

It’s a drama

 

moving from stage to stage

 

I am a producer, a director, an actor

 

It’s a musical extravaganza

 

and I am the composer, the song writer, the singer

 

It’s a poem

 

and I am the poet

 

making lines that rhyme (because that’s more fun)

 

It’s a painting

 

and I am the canvas, the paints and brushes

 

the hand that applies the bright colours

 

to white spaces

 

It’s a photo

 

and I am the photographer

 

capturing the precious moments

 

before they pass

 

and melt into the vastness of time past

 

 

 

January 25, 2016

I have recently begun calling myself: a spiritual fanatic
because I love the paradox in the statement

 

I love religions
it’s one of my very favourite things!

 

But our world has become mixed up, confused
 

The spirit of religions
has been apprehended for political reasons

 

What we are witnessing
is not the essence of truth or teachings

 

it is usurp of religion
for bad intentions

 

There is a mask, a veil
before reality
making it - forest for the trees

 

Now
nothing is what it seems
and what it seems
is not the essence of the blessed teachings

January 17, 2016

 

When you come face to face

 

with the reflection

 

and you could choose to show your anger or wrath

 

in that moment

 

but instead - you hold back

 

Your rage is held under constraint

 

and your violence is kept under wraps

 

Patience covers

 

and your compassion arises

 

You see - in the other - yourself

 

the object of your love

 

and you recognize

 

your own wishes, your own hopes

 

in the reflection

 

through awareness

 

Grace overcomes

 

and Mercy is shown

 

as all other emotions to the contrary

 

are suppressed in your Loving action

January 3, 2016

 

Who owns Islam?

 

Who is going to tell me what to believe

or how to practice that belief

 

Am I going to bow down

out of fear

 

isn't it love and sincerity

a repentant heart

that bring me through the ultimate door

the one I long for

where the rivers flow

 

Who owns Islam

 

was it my ex-husband

who told me how to act, what to wear

and then cheated and lied and abused

is he the one who will open the door

 

Who owns Islam

 

is it those who sell oil - sell their souls

to the devil

who guard the Mecca

who call the birthplace of our Beloved, their own

and then oppress all those

within their bounds

 

Who owns Islam

 

is it this sect or that one

 

I used to be told

“Be a Sunni. That is the only version that will be accepted, allowed.”

By whom - by Allah?

Does someone have a number I can dial

because I’d really like to know:

 

Who owns Islam?

 

 

 

July 24, 2015

This life is a matter of perception

 

If you are a believer – and you are highly dedicated to a belief or faith or ideological system

If it is your perception that what you believe in is the ultimate truth and perfection

then it stands to reason

that you will be against anything that is an enemy – to that which denies the faith you believe in

 

If you cling to your belief system and its dictates

it is unlikely that you will question what it is asking

because faith itself demands a blind following

 

In fact, the act of questioning is the opposing action

to the action of faith itself

Faith, asks that you abandon your own mind  

to follow what you are asked

as a faithful person

 

If that faith, asks you to hate – or kill – or believe another person is an enemy

And you are a zealot to your own perception – you may do anything

believing that you are justified in your actions or

believing that the Almighty will uphold your actions

 

Turn that perception in 180 degrees to another human mind

and their faith or belie...

July 21, 2015

There are times when separation is torture

 

An average soul -

may look upon an outsider

from their own limited perception

 

and call it: depression

 

What else could you call 

the absolute hell of wanting to be One

and being forced into some bodily prison -

in a tortured separation

from your Beloved

 

There are nights spent in tears

wondering when the veil will be torn away

wondering when the removal from this temporal realm

will be done

 

this strangeness all around

 

To be called a stranger is only a gift

when it feels 

there is no sense of belonging

to this bizarre illusion

that other minds and bodies seem to cling to

 

Let it fall, let it end

 

this body, this dense matter is not needed

 

Here the thousandth call of this slave's wish to go home! 

 

Don't call it a wish for a premature ending

call it what it is -- a deep sense of absence and longing

July 20, 2015

What was once - a limit to my soul

is no more

 

The limit was passed

and a part of me - watched the other part of me

pass it

 

Nothing changed 

except that I had performed an action

that I would once have never allowed myself to act upon

 

I was no happier for it

as I was no happier for denying it

 

All pleasure - gleamed - was a vanishing moment of nothing

like grains of sand slipping through 

the spaces between my fingers

the only difference between the sand

and my actions -

the sand lands upon the ground and remains a grain

my actions vanish into the great unknown

 

Time passed - that cannot be grasped by any human sense

 

And on I went

wondering and acting

 

Did the limits mean anything

if the remorse or regret was not present 

if the faith was not strong enough to press its limitations

 

What am I - Who am I

with or without them

 

If all my moments are empty nothings

of movements towards a vanished state

 

of being

***

Can one both be and not be simultaneously?

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July 24, 2015

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July 15, 2016

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February 15, 2016

February 15, 2016

January 25, 2016

January 17, 2016

January 3, 2016

July 24, 2015

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© Tashi Farmilo-Marouf