battle poetry of life


The outcome is irrelevant
Your battle, is poetic enough
-Wesam El dahabi


Put on your warrior outfit and live.

Why are you waiting for a settling of your affairs?

Why have you forgotten the taste of indifference?

Suddenly, you have become so sensitive to pain,

When you were so impervious.

Have you forgotten the way?

Have you lost your ambition?

The hope to meet in divine embrace cannot come by hiding in your cave.

Go then, be poetry manifest,

And wait not for the result,

Nor the applause.

-Wesam El dahabi

Thank you for the inspiration

You know who you are.

You know nothing of love

true lover

Just when you think you’ve read works of masters.
Fiction, non-fiction, tales, fables, romance novels, poetry, prose, all of it amounts to nothing when you hear a single word and understand it’s meaning; Ishq.

Think of everything you have ever thought, felt, expressed, read, spoken, sung, danced and acted about love and throw it away.

This word, is the epitome of what it means to love.

The word was dear to the most potent poet that ever lived, the most widely read, the most popular world wide, despite his background, transcending cultures, religion, nationalities, politics and more. Alone, he has the ability to transform the most wretched of hearts with a simple line of his poetry and anecdotes.

Rumi, was no drunk lover, he was a consciously drunk one. Aware  and purposeful in his devotion, a former celebrated theologian and scholar of the highest calibre, he devoted himself to the ultimate art. The art of love, of annihilation.

A devotion so sincere he no longer existed in this world, other worldly, his longing for the divine was sacrificial. His prestige, power, honour, fame, community standing discarded like it was a pungent robe and the ragged woollen drapes of discomfort he adorned until he vanished between them.

A hollow of a cloak, framed in the shape of a man, he disappeared in love. His longing answered, his sincerity heard, his nearness to his beloved granted.

To comprehend the meaning of the word above ‘Ishq is to forget all notions of love you have ever imagined and be atomised into dust…..It is a pang and longing unbearable of which it’s inheritors never so much as take a backward glance at the world any more.

The mundane translation of it meaning love, is unbearably nauseating. It is so much more than that, hence why a thorough story like context must be given to begin to comprehend it, and this is just the introduction to it.


Until death do us united


Rumi Said:
“Our death is our wedding with eternity.”

If that is the case
Life must be the engagement


For those who know where they are going, perhaps death is the wedding, the night of elation, finally, it is here, you sigh, you exhale a years, two or eighty of planning. The longest wedding plan in history with the goal in mind to meet their maker.

What is the honeymoon then? Is it being able to finally face Him and the mere presence of Him alone, irrespective of your destination, the final effacement of self? Just to be there in His presence? What is it going to take? Embarrassment on the day, regret, biting of ones fingers off wishing one could return? To make that engagement all the more beautiful and orientated towards Him?

Here is the whole poem, you make up your mind about this profound wisdom.

Our death is our wedding with eternity.
What is the secret? “God is One.”
The sunlight splits when entering the windows of the house.
This multiplicity exists in the cluster of grapes;
It is not in the juice made from the grapes.
For he who is living in the Light of God,
The death of the carnal soul is a blessing.
Regarding him, say neither bad nor good,
For he is gone beyond the good and the bad.
Fix your eyes on God and do not talk about what is invisible,
So that he may place another look in your eyes.
It is in the vision of the physical eyes
That no invisible or secret thing exists.
But when the eye is turned toward the Light of God
What thing could remain hidden under such a Light?
Although all lights emanate from the Divine Light
Don’t call all these lights “the Light of God”;
It is the eternal light which is the Light of God,
The ephemeral light is an attribute of the body and the flesh.
…Oh God who gives the grace of vision!
The bird of vision is flying towards You with the wings of desire.

Liar Liar Soul on fire.

soul for sale


I won’t lie

I’m like everyone else

My soul is for sale

The highest bidder hasn’t even reached half the reserve


Who are we kidding? The right person with the right words, with the right mind, with the right touch for all the wrong reasons and you could be sold for a few pennies.

Let’s be brutally honest and stop regurgitating this cliché. We all have that spot, somewhere or something inside of us that if it is found puts down all our defences.

I have experienced it with the most hostile of souls and the most gentle. Everyone has something about them.

The problem is, the navigators of the human soul have become few and far between.

I’m a rebel without a cause in most of my pursuits.

Authority? I stick a big proverbial in their face.
Law? What law?
Sensitivities of humans? Push me and I’ll tear you down in a heartbeat.
You want to get physical? I’ll hit you seven ways before your anger has fettered to your fists as I’m on my toes all the time.

It’s hard to tell my stubborn ego what to do.
But one look from my teachers and I melt.
They bought me and have me shackled, key thrown away rusted chains to my ankles, anchor me to humility in their presence.

They know how to spear my heart from all vain desires with a line of prose or an anecdote of a master sage.

What did they pay for my capture?

A smile.

I love you teachers.

May God sanctify your secrets.

In loving memory of her, who gave me the lantern niche illumed with oils and lit the flame for me to see the way to him.

Him, who carries the torch with love and forbearance, with patience to my folly until the day where my ego can finally be slain a mighty death on the alter of the masters before me.

Egoïste – 22

burn for him

How far are you willing to go?

The devotion of a moth has challenged lovers for an eternity
The mad amongst us rise to the occasion.
They burn for Him.

For centuries, the lovers have jumped into the flame only to find it cool and tranquil like our forefather Abraham peace be upon him. They were not about to be outdone by a moth.

Egoïste – 9

egoiste 9-2

Are you prepared for Him?

I have incense burning,

My soul is yearning,

It’s just You and I




What is that?
That rumble that I hear inside is not hunger for food.
Fear fighting courage, courage fighting fear and being nothing more than a powerless spectator.
The unfamiliar feeling of being out of control.
God letting me know who’s boss.
Forgive me for my ego.
I’m just getting older,
I’m just growing up.
That rumble is hunger for You.