-in the name of Allah-

It has been said that the best writing, the best inspiration, comes as the fruit of the most intense pain. If this is true, then I can claim, perhaps, to passed through such a medium of forced self-clarification. My latest poetic:



In Light of Recent Catharsis
8.20.05


In this land of worker bees, where do I remain?
Stuck in shallow ponds of vanity?
Robotically perpetual? Or inherited humanity?
Or caught within ideal, an overtly shapeless strain?

Though they have what they in all of this desire
So have I, without so much a moment in regret
Though wondered have I, what does them inspire
For lacked I’ve all along of need, blessed by providence

Their aims do their needs and wants sustain
Likewise, mine reach for goals of more personal refrain
Though they claim existence in a world of ‘apparently’
I maintain my belief, in one of hidden invisibility

Surely, a path to sustenance I will require
Through straits and valleys, both trivial and dire
While the noon sun to sunset onward blazes
Past the productivities, beyond time’s boundless gazes
My goal, like once it began, still remains ever steady
To be secure in One, and with another share life’s melody