Poetry is how I repent,
am the greatest sinner.
I’m aware of where inspiration comes from,
there is a price to pay for everything,
and I’m driven mad,
with accounting myself.
The greater the urge to rid myself of fodder,
the easier the pen flows.
The decision to be drowning in prose,
means you also exorcise your demons relentlessly.
Painting by Hossein Irandoust Moghadam
stiffen your sinews,
bones etched with hieroglyphics of hurt
your soul becomes supple.
I couldn’t show you how this happens,
when vigour clouds your judgement,
when youth gives you hope,
yet numbs you of tasting.
There’s an agreement with time,
relinquishing your affairs to their allotted appointments,
trusting beyond your comprehension,
faith if you will,
in being faithless insofar as holding God accountable,
rather, holding Him capable,
of anything, of anything.
Your soul aches for this flexibility,
your body waits for the battering.
-Wesam El dahabi
How do you weave the tapestry of gratitude into your heart so that your limbs lead the way?
I could answer, but answering would be worse!
Gratitude sitting in the mind,
is lesser than;
gratitude sitting in your heart;
is lesser than gratitude sitting in your limbs;
is lesser than gratitude acted out.
I adore your poise,
your pose, and your noise,
that is, your lack thereof.
How orchestral is your quiet,
majestic is your silence,
this deafening and drumming of nothing at once,
this wonderful humming of quiet and calm.
I’m mad I say, deeply mad,
obsessed with ears that listen,
and a mouth that’s mute.
The beautiful picture is by Hossein Irandoust
Perhaps once upon a time my soul met his in this abyss of pre-world obedience and silence.
I’m infatuated by his work to say the least.
All beautiful things are concealed well.
Pearls, diamonds, sages, gnostics and my favourite;
artists and writers who only become apparent when they pass.
If you think you’re going to arrive,
at beauty without a struggle,
wisdom and truth without suffering,
peace without a war inside of you,
if you think you’re entitled to it all by default,
just for existing,
then you’re deluded,
and deserve to be barred from it.
Do the work and be patient.
-Wesam El dahabi
Amazing pieces by Hossein Irandoust
I refused to lay in my pit of wallowing,
because of Your promise.
I’ve used brokenness and defeat,
to fuel everything beautiful I can learn,
and always relied on my hands,
to guide me to the truth.
The truth that all beauty,
is an indication of one’s inclinations,
and ability to recognise it,
and to remain downtrodden,
is a reflection of one’s low opinion,
of You and Your promise.
This is how I carry myself,
defeat after defeat,
sin after sin,
finding trinkets of beauty,
even in my most despicable state.
I’m never ashamed,
because I know,
there’s far more beauty yet.