Splitting the Moon
Quraysh greybeards greysouls
Heartspots black enlarging
Ears not hearing sired confessions
Jealous eyes clouding the moonsplit,
Here there in the early dark low
Trickery – bitter thoughts reason – jealous
As the mummy-king was at Musa’s snakestick
“Behold” said the one knowing
That the open-handed offering –
Glad tidings, warnings, al-Furqan –
Would split the worlds of which One ruled
Like Isa’s sword of mysterious portent
While the greybeards’ necks craned
Disbelief reined, Greatsoul’s heart pained
Shamed later seeing and knowing
Greysouls scorched yet forgiven
Remembered the whitelight as two
Their mocking over but trickling regret
Their unseen great son whispering
Grace undeserved, the smile unreserved
All knees agreed beneath radiance untorn
The Knees of the Revert
Nose, eyebrows, breath on woven warmth
Weight on wrists and not in heart
Eyes sensing lids black with glowing focus
Thoughts emptying, spilling purer and
Matching wet arms, ankles, washed
With mumbled clarity in rhymes
Pushed from lips that love and want
Closer closeness than the vein of thoughts
The Creator seeing spine, shoulders, soul
Then palms on knees, chin on chest
The Creation feeling aching inexperience
Not sat thus since the days of chalk
When the Lover of Innocence touched
The imagination greenwood growing with
Castles, cowboys, kings and then whispered
Don’t stop hearing as years grab tight
With words forgotten age brings pain
Feet tucked and knees stretched
The ache of joints and remembered sins
Allahu Akbar freedom gained from
Pressed low face and plaintive heart
Repentant prayer and Great Lord here
Lord of the Worlds
I swallow time
in swigs
and think of You
I blink blue, sore
and see forever
but in shards
as thick-skinned coffee
and oft-thumbed diary
pages within this mind
slide, thrice
over palms and feet
I feel time touch
yet suffer sneers
and claws that etch my face
as a postman's
while You tumble through
and share
apple-breath breezes
with children old and new
You kept my trophy
safe and somewhere
aglow with lustre
while I walked on water
and sank
within friends' laughter
as You kept a garden
and plucked hope and purpose
to sate our weak
Voices in the hallway
murmur He is One
through a door of lacy
black widows' spinning
and this heart races
to drum a cadence
in concrete as a dance
Tip a cathedral downside up
and watch priests' gowns
fall over surprise
as an owl flies in day's gold
and stares into waters
rippling with an unseen splash
spreading from Your hand extended
The Prophets
You could
I would
You, common good
Me, Robin Hood
You love
I shove
You, heart of gold
Me, can't be told
You share
I scare
You, candle light
Me, don't invite
You rest
I quest
You, wisdom earned
Me, fingers burned
You trust
I must
Iman
I filled my heart to overflowing
It spilled and pooled without me knowing
Regret upon awareness grew
With hope that rug can stay as new
This mad recluse's clumsy hands
Delight at prayer mat’s soothing strands
This
What is true?
What the eyes can see,
the heart can feel or the mind imagine?
With photo old I stretch this heart
a thousand leagues to haul faith here with
stalwart sinews of recognition fascination
transcending mislaid decades
I've tidied your room in castle ruins
and placed flora astounding
in papier-mâché urns of grinning fragrance
near an umbrella waiting for porcelain touch
and taped 99 Names on a door closed gently
to a crack from which famished light cascades
and all years wither yet holler happy
What You Do
I flew a kite with a key
so You could light the sky
and flick a bounding bolt
towards my darkened home
You drew a storm from the sea
and rattled window panes
with gusts of supremacy that flung
my back door from its jam
Spiralling allure stings these eyes
which watch through squints while
tempests tear comfort from my chair
and split my mirror into slivers
Master and Servant
He smiled and he burned
and died and lived
immediately
and gasped and grasped
and loved
impassionedly
He laughed and he knew
and spoke and choked
impulsively
and rejoiced with no voice
and loved
compulsively
He touched and he soared
and grew and flew
exultantly
and raced to embrace
and loved emphatically
Faizan-e-Madina Mosque
Italian boots point among trainers sandals scattered
Socks cat-pawing sponge carpets peaceful
Brown, black, blue soul-windows open
Casting light white from other to each
Curiosity satisfaction no suspicion
Shoulders together not soldiers ever
Wars unwanted save self, sin, him
White amidst not, colourless, covered and copying
Noses foreheads submission breathing pressing
Cube black facing consciences confessing
Oneness greatness Allah
The Certainty of Not Knowing
I die more each day and no-one notices but You
And those who find me in print from time to time
Those close see the same except for hair length
Or a pound or two or tiredness and shadows
Yet its truth sighs in the mirror though it has no feel
As it comes at night when I cannot care
I die more each day and no-one causes it but You
Though You let me quicken or slow it with choices
That You know I'll make and which I call freedom
Or foolishness or wisdom or experience
And I don't know which pulls the end nearer
Or keeps it unknown as a distant dark gulp
I live more each day as you prepare me for You
And flick away specks and teach me to sweep
With a broom made from pain, Astagfirullah
And I don't want those I love to hear words
That will forever sound louder as a legacy
Than the soft and wise when I leave for home
I live more each day as I gather truths from You
Walking the path You waited for me to reach
After so long in shoes too big yet so tight
With my eyes down in books without pages
While You held out one with orchestral words
That now play warmly as I hope for sunrise
The Office
My car windscreen grill too full of nature
Collects blossoms pink from a shadowless tree
The shortest of brothers shoulder to shoulder
Where I park in the mornings and prepare
For my day with unspoken prayer and a glance
In the mirror from which deep blue and gold
Hangs a pendant with two names in glass
Yours and his and a blizzard-blue tassel
Almighty and Prophet etched in elegance
Meaning known to me and no other parkers
My symbol of belonging, for me not for them
My thoughts walk from my car to my office
With the day and the names two steps ahead
And I sit at my desk and gaze at the book
Words climb from two flower-framed pages
Politely letting a black ribbon rest for the day
While they nudge each other from right to left
And I lift my eyes from Your gift to us all
Through glass still wearing winter’s stains
To where pink popcorn droops above the car
A sweet taste of the creation made in six days
Planned wisdom fills my mind in the morning
Yet drips wasted from my mouth as a leak
I sigh prayers to replace it whenever I notice
My humanity and the whisperer darkening
Dreams of Jannah in all-year blossom
And I walk at the end with smaller thoughts
To the car bursting with names (and a tassel)
And drive to where they ask what I did
The reply, oh you know, same as always,
Is truer than they could possibly know
Empty One
Whisperer oh whisperer
You have power in another world
That of crosses and doors into souls you can enter
Whisperer oh whisperer
You frighten them or take the blame
For what their own lust entices them to do
Flame without smoke
You cannot burn me for a second
Or brand my skin with a hiss to pretend I belong
Flame without smoke
You murmur and gossip too much
But I know your silent voice speaks like mine
Clay-hating shadow
I hear you as me almost all day
Yet I don’t bother listening as often as I did
Clay-hating shadow
You choose your words carefully
Whispering sweet things you hope will work
Jinn named as shame
You have succeeded only rarely
When I let judgement slip as sand through fingers
Jinn named as shame
You hold no sway and cannot smile here
On this path your words stick as dust in your throat
Enticer going
Cringing as the day approaches
When the One will beckon while you wither and fade
Enticer gone
Heat extinguished by under-flowing waters
Thrown worthless into an undying death that chars
All in Their Eyes
You lower your eyes
Lashes shading secrets
Your hair unseen
And lips ― are they smiling
Or pursed in sadness
Beneath a veil wrapped tight?
Your eyes open upwards
Darkened mines
Leading to a sacred place
For those needing peace
Where you sing to
Ease aches in old men
Your tears of blood
Don’t fall when you blink
Or close tight for darkness
And strangers pass
Without stopping
To ask if you are lost
Black tears then flow
And you groan
As they form trails
On pale cheeks
Untouched
By the sun for years
Now they come to woo
Having seen you cry
And want to take you
As a lover although
You have covered and
Never shown your arms
I kiss my fingertips
Without sound
And yearn
To dab your face
Which I’ve known
As a guess in my mind
Oh Ummah my lady
They will bruise you
And lay you bare
While an unkind sun stings
Your beauty and steals
Such rare purity
Lower your gaze
Be true and hold fast
To your brothers and sons
As a cold wind calls them
To leave your home
And live among others
Oh Ummah beloved
Smile at your strength
Modesty shrouded
And don’t let them know
The mysteries buried
In a heart cherished by God
Can’t Quite Close the Door
I do not notice you
I’m busy
Chanting
Eyes shut gently
Reciting faster
Keeps you out
But empties
And I want it full
Slow is deep
I know you like it here
But I don’t like you
You shouldn’t come
Drifter
Homeless sneak
Lifting my prayer
I know your favourite time
When my knees hurt
Assalamu alaina …
You nudge in
Wa ala ibadil … ohhhh
You appear
Lahis saliheen
You drift with me
A short voyage
On my knees
Index finger poised
Ready to flick you
And it does
I reclaim words
And return
Ashhadu alla ilaha
Focus tight
Musicality back
Illallahu … Victory!
I vanquish you
And finish
Shahadah sweet
As I arise
My triumph wilts
You are back
You sneak in
And we drift
Again
Too human
Oh Allah
This weak mind
Can’t manage
To keep out
Distractions
From a Hadith
Two sat
Beneath the sun
In shade running off
An ageless wall
While all else
Vanished
He searched
The face of history
Saw worlds and between
In eyes that blinked
Occasionally
He saw himself
Mirrored alone
His cheeks burned
He shrank and looked
Away
The other
Raised an eyebrow
As a question
An invitation
Warm
He stuttered
Overwhelmed
Asking for meaning
For the way to be
Wise
His life appeared
And galloped, flawed
Failing and struggling
Swallowing he looked
Down
Words came
From the other
Above a whisper
But not much and
Answered
Do not,
Said the wise,
Become angry
The path to wisdom
Lies in peace
He asked again
His meaning lost?
The four words repeated
Were not to him
Enough
Do not,
Said the serene,
Become angry
The straight path
Is paved in patience
The first asked
With different words
The same a third time
Confused mind and ears
Unable
Do not,
Said the unwearied,
Become angry
The way to Jannah
Is for the gentle
Let it be for you
Ahl al-Kitāb
Living waters sprang in widening rings
From Allah’s word “Be!” and flowed
Through the words of a wanderer
Who broke idols which refused to speak
Nile-wide and diamond pure it flowed
Allah smiled and named the son Father
And friend – Khalil-Ullah ― the source
Of a swirling breathing river of blood
That carved canyons in time before
It forked
Down rapids one parted river ran
Carrying nations and prophets
Drowning rogues and doubters
Holding afloat a bobbing truth
Shema Yisrael God our Lord is One
Which reached and wet the ankles of
The anointed who agreed with thanks
And for three years past thirty proclaimed
After cupping his hands and drinking
Shema Yisrael God our Lord is One
Peace-sleeping stopped him seeing
The dirtying of that flow of silver life
As a brook from another source
touched and joined and weakened
The truth which survived but struggled
Slipping under and seldom rising
As time pulled colour from the final word
And left the meaning faint and faded
Seen only by those who truly searched
From the fork the other branch flowed
Unnoticed by a world no longer caring
Until it reached the city of the blind
And lapped around that black cube
With a sound heard by one praying
Alone in a cave who descended
Drank and scooped to safety
The fragile truth which loving lips
Recited on command as a pleasure
The two are running closely apart to
The Day when they will slip beneath
Jannah’s jade carpet and cool shade
And one will arise as bubbling springs
Where the final word Ehad, One, Ahad
Lights the sky as seven swollen suns
He smiles at those who stayed clean
With hands and hearts washed daily
By purity flowing around bent knees