My teacher

gods wine

She drank from love’s wine
so that God was on her breath.

In turn, men became intoxicated from her words.
All they had to do was sit in her gathering
And they would stumble home like drunkards
Dizzy with what they had just experienced.

She had a knack for pulling in the wildest of men,
The strongest of them,
The gentlest of them,
The sincerest of them,
The most loving,
And making them love her.
They loved her as a spiritual mother,
Because she showed them love of Him.
She was braver than a thousand men,
And that is why men didn’t fear her,
But admired her, awestruck and rubbled in front of her.
Small in stature, but a Lioness,
Amongst the jungle of impostors.
I was never one for lies,
So I took to her like a moth to a flame.
There she consumed me,
And I was never to return to humanity the same.

May God sanctify your secret and raise your rank in paradise,
Were it not for you, I would have been hunted down by hyenas.


Learning, Knowledge, Wisdom



Throwing your ego into the sea and watching it drown in the vastness of what
you don’t know.


Admitting you have the ego to drown and that the sea of vastness is there


Showing someone else how to do it.


Humility is what will commence the journey.
It will set you on fire in your love of learning, knowledge and wisdom.
A great scholar said, ‘The more I learned, the more ignorant I became’. Think about the context of this magnificent quote. Think about who said it and it’s weight.
He wasn’t ignorant by any means but this is an expression of humility and defeat. Admittance he’s a speck of nothing despite of who the public thought he was, in the vast ocean of knowledge that existed and opened up to him the more he learned.

Nightwriter – 10

nightwriter series 10


My wife found out about her

So she tied me to a stake

Out in the desert sun

Burn my addiction wide awake

She didn’t know she had a companion

Turned blue to black skies

Darkness was her accomplice

As easy as closing my eyes




Nightwriter – 9

nightwriter series 9


Yesterday evening, we had a fight

I kept calling her Layla

She insisted her name was Night



In Arabic, the word for night is Layl. This is where the name Layla comes from. Layla is the choice for Qays in the famous love story of Qays and Layla or Layla and Majnun.

Majnun literally means madman. I.e. someone afflicted so much that they have lost their senses, in Majnun’s case he lost his mind over Layla when  they were denied their love. Layla married off to someone of higher status eventually committing suicide and Majnun wandering streets smelling walls, caressing objects, talking to animals all because Layla was part of those things.

Therefore, the reference in many odes, poems and anecdotes of Arab and Persian writing referring to Layla is referring to a divine presence. The night is given this same reference as it is understood to be the gateway to the divine where lovers meet in secret pursuit of His pleasure.

My references to the night and it’s addiction bares the weight of these greats before me.

If you haven’t read the story and are a sucker for classic love odes, grab it and sink into some Arab classics.

Nightwriter – 5

nightwriter series 5


In the midst of her




She knows



If you listen close enough, you’ll hear the long drawn our echoes of the silence during the night.

Like a metronome wound down, it drags its wail from crevice to crevice in its allowed slot

It is kind enough to allow me dispersed coughs of prose.

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.

A Kingly Find

The King ran out of the cave in ecstasy, screaming with hands in the air. The people thought he had lost his mind. It had been forty days since he entered the cave as a last resort, burdened with the guilt of not being able to use his riches to save his ailing wife.

“What is it King? What did you find?” the people asked as they had been standing anxiously for forty days.
Panting and still elated he blurted out, “I found it!”
“Found what,” the people asked again.
“Teach us, King”.
With a sigh of relief the king said,

“All you have to do is ask.”


Egoïste – 28


He wants us to come to Him whole, but the only way to come whole is to strip away layers of our being until naked.

Naked souls with no garments of vices.

The ability to recognise your garments will determine how easily you can remove them.

That is the Egoïste’s aim, they want Him all to themselves.