Last night, with the waning moon, some time I spent,
And even conversed with some beings of the firmament,
"Conform your will to the Almighty's will,
And you will have no fear or grief, no cause to repent."

And as I was pondering on all that i had faced,
A silent voice within me shook me and said:
"Wisdom is in realising the secret of your peace,
And it lies in making your lone droplet rejoin the seas."

"See, how many a great soul's mortal remains lie covered,
By tons of dust, clay, shrubs and visited by a Bird,
Which knows more about the one lying down beneath,
So take heed! Shun the vain and the absurd."

"And also keep in mind that the age in which you are,
Is hastening fast to doom which isn't very far,
Think good, do good and revel in His thoughts,
Care not about the heedless and a mirage-like star."

"The secret of true happiness is hidden within you,
O Emmenay! Think of all the good you can do,
Meditation and contemplation in the company of God,
Are the keys to your solace, yes, they hold the clue."
(Written by Muhammad Naveed Ahmed/Emmenay. Posted on June 27, 2011).

Author's Notes/Comments: 


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Between the folds of what's seen as time
and the passing climb of souls divine,
there dwells a form with newborn's eye
that bends the space it occupies.

He comes upon a shell he likens
that's made of flesh and nerves to tend,
and as his body sprouts a thousand arms,
his nascent mind grows fond of them.

But stubborn as he came to be,
his reach was short and blatantly
useless for a thing as he,
that shapes the sky so easily.

Locus was his name to we,
who heard a sound that rang above
as Locus rubbed his palms along
the rim of our perception's gates.

The sound we heard so insectile;
filled our heads with blots of green,
and left us feeling cold and shaken
by the state of mind Locus had taken.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I can't think of anywhere to take this.

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Skinny kids seek shelter
from the blazing summer heat
Mothers suckle more infants
Hidden between heather.
I see and nod my head sadly
As procreation is now a hobby
With a planet bent by burden
No one cares, no one, really!
Most of us are lust-oozing bodies,
Craving for sex like crazy
Teenaged boys, teenaged girls,
Be they in cities or the country.
Not far away from all this,
I see the tomb of a Sufi*
People throng him praying daily,
For more and more of things worldly.
As the noon hours lengthen shadows
I go to where this mortal rests
After a prayer I look up and see,
The truth hidden under 'his' tree.
(Written and posted by Muhammad Naveed Ahmed/Emmenay on May 12, 2011. Copyrights of all poems owned by the author.

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Even in spring and summer
some trees remain as they were
in autumn and winter
shouldn't this make us quietly ponder?
Some prodigies leave us lamenting
with their art-works and singing
some worn-out souls keep toiling
and nothing mixes with nothing!
At the graveyard I sit and see
the shadows darkening with glee
as night sets in and everyone goes
Leaving their "loved ones" lonely!
Ha! This is all that this world is
a bar of false joys' fantasy!
Well, I have found my path, it's good:
I must rush to my Beloved Almighty.
(Written and posted by Muhammad Naveed Ahmed/Emmenay on May 12, 2011. All copyrights of poems posted on this website owned by the author.

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Lusty summer noons simmer,
covered in heat and sweat, sizzle,
Men, women and girls giggle,
As perspiration makes all so visible.
In my own and lost in Him,
Sometimes I glance at this din,
"Get up and move, O pilgrim..."
Comes the call from divine Him.
"What matters is the journey
"From here to His great dimension
"So let the worldly ones sweat it out
"And seek your paradise with Him".*
(Written and posted by Muhammad Naveed Ahmed/Emmenay on May 12, 2011. All copyrights owned by the author.

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Darkness gives way to light
Like every morning
Black surrenders to blue
And then slowly emerging white
People are returning from mosques
Faithful ones walking back to home
While the mystic remembers
And thanks, His Lord God, secretly
And alone.
(Written and posted by Muhammad Naveed Ahmed/Emmenay).

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Drooling sun,
hazy afternoon,
desert stretches on for me.
Bronte and John Keats,
Along with Omar Khayyam
Under a tree:
Is it a mirage,
Or parched man's hallucination?
Worldly love,
with its promises,
still waits for me in modernity.
this craving soul wants
surety of a lasting bond.
I am me,
And the fate-writers,
of God could not fathom this.
O my heart!
do not look back now,
I want to keep moving on...
Dry sandstorms,
cannot frighten me,
I must meet Keats and Emily.
Who knows what
waits for poor me there,
Free poetic souls' company?
O you sun,
your blazing heat can't
Stop me in my onward journey.
(Written and posted by Muhammad Naveed Ahmed/Emmenay on May 3, 2011).

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Chaos from harmony,
From harmony to chaos;
entropy is a well-tutored student,
of everything defined as wrong
and put in a darker perspective
it is described as evil.
All the angels bowed before
my first ancestral father,
all, except one,
and he got a licence,
to trap, entice and destroy,
the best of creations!
Mother Eve and her mate,
Lose their purity,
And are disqualified from Eden.
Sent down to earth,
along with the foe in constant pursuit,
to do more and more mayhem,
along with his progeny and supporters.
O God, Lucifer keeps winning,
and all the guidance of your prophets,
saints, priests, sadhoos* and martyrs,
along with the scriptures
and numerous testaments,
are unable to save the children of him,
whom You 'created' with 'Your hands'!
Sin is glamourously scornful,
of all the goodness preached by prophets,
and even their life-examples
have becom subjects of ridicule and fun!
The unending canopy of Your kingdom,
Appears to be moving in accordance,
With Your finely calculated, minute precision.
Why then, O my Master Creator,
Must we be allowed to grow weaker and weaker,
chaotic ruin mongers,
and willful destroyers of the spirit,
Which You say, You "breathed" into Adam,
And through him and Eve, into us?
I and those like me are negligible in numbers,
and scattered here and there like fumblers,
who just cannot stop the fuss...
And one of the hells I see in Orion,
Seems like many -- our doomed perdition?
You, O most merciful and compassionate God,
I am consciously sure deep inside,
that You won't just stand beside,
And let the disobedient distracter,
Lead many, unaware and careless humans,
to the point of ruin and damnation.
Yet, I am baffled and wonder,
when will You make us the conquerors,
And strengthen us against the demons,
Lurking at every nook and corner,
And the dead ends of annihilation?
I long to see the misguiding tempters,
along with their seducing temptresses,
The incubuses and succubuses,
Fall and perish into disaster.
Equip me O my most loving Lord God,
You are the One who is the ruler,
And protector, guardian and saviour,
So did You promise to Noah,
Abraham, Moses, Jacob and Joseph,
Mary the Virgin and her son, the Christ,
And then Your final Messenger,
The "Mercy to all worlds" called Muhammad:
Your peace is upon all these "chosen"
The prophets, saints and their pious women.
What causes my heart to feel sadder
and sadder?
And what is the cause which makes me feel,
For my fellow men and women?
Pray I to You in utmost humility,
Why this burden? Why this burden!
Of bearing all that I happen to see and hear,
of evil getting hideously mightier,
With each passing moment of clockwise clatter?
Pray tell me why O my Lord God,
Your silence is, for me, a nerve wrencher!
I seek clues from the sky and the seas,
To find out a sign of hope,
The sign hinting about Your promise,
Of making my kind grow and increase,
And pave the path of return to the place,
Where You made the angels bow,
And acknowledge that we are superior.
I am still seeking and searching,
In the stillness of wakeful morning,
and waiting...very keenly waiting,
For Your response O You True King:
Please O my Allah, please, do answer....
(Written by Muhammad Naveed Ahmed/Emmenay. Posted on April 30, 2011).

Author's Notes/Comments: 

*SADHOOS:Men and women who have given up the world in their quest for truth and real destiny. It is a Hindi-Urdu word which is also used to describe pious men and women.

The English I have used -- like I have in all my poems here-- is UK English. The spellings are different from US English.

Inspired after a contemplative portion of my after midnight hours under an open sky. I have been always seeking to solve the riddle of what is defined as right and wrong, good and evil, heaven and hell, man and satan and...God Almighty's own will and decision. This is one those poems which "came" to me after pondering and reflecting on how everything except us and our earth is moving in accordance with divine wisdom. I am still awaiting an answer...and these lines may be considered a soliloquy and a passionately humble prayer.

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The journey
from the abode of deception
to the abode of peace
is not easy at all.
But then,
every journey begins with the first step:
So now that I have started,
I cannot stop
or falter, or fall.
The path is straight
and the light shines brighter:
The devils do not frighten me now,
so, with the goal in sight,
I must keep moving ahead,
without being clouded by doubts,
or lured by temptations,
or waylaid by seductions..
Yes, I must keep marching onward,
and onward, till I succeed...
Divine guidance and help,
strengthen my being,
within and without,
as illusions and delusions,
Have no sway or power,
over me anymore...
Thus, I must not give up now,
or allow myself to be entrapped
by falsehood and guile,
or become charmed by sweet songs,
Full of empty promises and lies.
I have to be firm,
and stronger than ever,
and, with my Lord God's help,
I must make sure that
I reach my destination:
The abode of true peace,
and the sublime elevation,
which awaits me there...
Everything leading there,
shines clearer,
as I cross the hurdles,
and the obstacles posed,
By those abiding, in the abode of deception:
Yes, I find myself, finally drawing nearer,
To the abode of peace, in a higher dimension.
(Written by Muhammad Naveed Ahmed/Emmenay. Posted on April 29, 2011).

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This poem can be understood more clearly if the reader refers to the first three I have written in the series of poems titled "The Unbound". The first one was written more than two decades ago. This is the fourth one in which I have explained my present state in my usual, mystical style. This poem is an inspiration. I am not boasting of anything but only stating what I am experiencing these days.

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