A Bottle of Whine Served at the Table of God, The Friend of Friends

The Best Whine

The best whine

Comes not from the

Cellars of the Wise

But from the dungeons

Of the brokenhearted.

God listens all the time

To the troubled and sorrowful,

Taking in that particular whine

Seeded in our expectations,

Harvested in our disappointments

And matured in casks of regret

That all mankind nurture

In the valley of

The human heart.

In the earlier posting entitled Cure for a Broken Heart and the Whining Sinner (Click Here), I ended it thus, "You must not be like me, sunshine. Don't be a whiner. Nobody likes a whiner."

After publishing the post, I felt that perhaps I was a little harsh. After all, at some point in our lives, we ALL whine. The topic of the complaint may be as trivial as the neighbour's dog barking at night (Woof! Woof! Woof!), someone leaving some dirty dishes in the sink (Arghhh!), or it could be as devastating as a divorce or the passing of a loved one. Who knows what sort of calamity that would trigger our despondency and gloom?

Nobody likes a whiner, but everyone needs a shoulder to cry on sometimes. And when you find that someone who is willing to offer his/her shoulder for you to unburden your regrets and disappointments... well, they are really gems of humanity. As Denise commented in the earlier posting, "...But those who allow us to whine a bit are such precious friends."

And I also believe that even when there is no one around, there is still God, our One Creator. He made us, and thus He very well knows, even better than our closest soul-mate, our strengths and weaknesses. Even if your partner-in-crime will not or is not around to listen to your troubles, God can and He does. For God is not deaf, especially to those who needs Him the most. People like us, you know... sinners with holes like Swiss cheese. 

Assuming that you do not want to unburden yourself to the Invisible God... you can still ask Him to send you a friend. I have no doubt that God will respond and despatch you a compadre, a comrade and hombre to commiserate and perhaps even help you. For don't you know?... God is not just God, He is also the Friend of Friends.

Have a friendly day, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Driving under the Influence on the Cosmic Road to Enlightenment - Just how many bottles of the Divine Stuff did you consume, Ma'am?

10. Not That Drunk

You say you are drunk in His Ocean

Besotted in His Love,

But yea, still sober enough to request for intermissions,

While treading the Path.

I DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE. I am not very good with drink. And not very good at getting drunk. While I can write a whole forest of timber about Divine Love, getting intoxicated in the Divine Wine or such other exaggerated analogies and parables about God, Love and Mankind, truth be told, I am seldom drunk. And I rarely drink and drive on that cosmic road to enlightenment that I pretentiously like to call 'the Path'.

SPIRITUAL INTOXICATION. I guess you can call me a private drinker. I am not a social drinker because I prefer a bit of solitude. Indeed without solitude I cannot drink myself under the table. I need a quiet moment of reflection, a second of contemplation and if it happens, a wave of pleasure would course through the river of the soul, sparking a buzz like no other buzz promised at the bottom of the bottle. There is nothing like a little trip of spiritual intoxication. It is the joy without the hangover!

Yet drunkenness is nothing but a milestone, just another pit stop on the cosmic road. There are other stages further in the journey. More important 'stuff'... Much harder too.

88. Passion 2

Sobriety and Patience

Is better than Passion,

They become wine to those

Who have passed the state of intoxication.

May we all be good travelers along the cosmic road to enlightenment. Safe driving, sunshine!

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

Mocktail and Mock Knowledge - The Path to Divine Cocktail and Divine Knowledge

These guys have been having one 'Rumi Special' too many.

The Divine Mocktail

Sometimes life tastes so good

That it tastes unreal,

That is the next stage

Of distillation of wonders

When the Divine Cocktail

Becomes the Divine Mocktail...

Golden Punch, Shirley Temple,

Baby Bellini and Holiday Wassail!

This is the continuation from the earlier posting entitled The Divine Cocktail of Saints, Sinners & the Saintly - The Triumph of Love over Experience.

Lovers of the Divine Nectar! Thirsty Travelers! Seekers of the Golden Mead! Customers of the Divine Intoxication! There is indeed the divine cocktail the poet speaks of. But this world may appear to be a divine cocktail, a wonderful and fulfilling beverage that will reach spiritual parts of you you where no other drink can. But the truth is that this world is a mocktail. So are you sure you are getting the right beverage?

FOOLED. Alas, I have been fooled by the devilish bartender, conned many times over by my own egoist barrista - Not knowing that I have have been served some watered down fairy version of the divine wine. In ignorance I raise my glass of mock knowledge to the other customers at the bar, not knowing that the barkeep is keeping the real good stuff under the counter. The REAL knowledge for the REAL drinkers. I continued in my foolish pose until finally a white bearded old-timer huddled close to me and whispers, "Look son. Don't make a darn fool of yourself. That ain't no drink you are having. It is no cocktail, them is mocktail! Now listen to me. Next time you order a drink from this rascally bartender, tell him - Give me the Rumi Special. That will set you right for a while! Hic!"

Well, that's it, sunshine. I am just lucky to have bumped into someone who actually knows his drink. But life is a journey and I expect to be drinking many, many glasses still of mock knowledge. But whether it's the Divine Cocktail or the Divine Mocktail, it is still from God. So bon appetit. 

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

Sweet Tears in a Fountain of Red Sherbert

162. Sweet Tears in a Fountain of Red Sherbert

I have been cautioned,

I know,

I have been warned

To be wary,

I know.

But I am deeply besotted

By each petal

That falls into my eye,

Caressing my soul

To release a teardrop

Into

A fountain of red sherbert.

You have caused me

To be unwary,

And I step forward

When you call me,

Not knowing my end,

Only that

One step

Brings me

One step

Closer

To you.

When I walk,

Ants follow me,

For the tears I cry are not

Bitter nor salty,

But sweet.

As I make my way

From the decrepit hutch

Of a sinner build,

To you, my love,

To do of me,

As you will.

Have a beautiful and sweet life, sunshine. And if you do cry, I pray that your tears are sweeter than honey, and more refined than the finest wine of France. I will not lie and tell you that the way is in any way easy. It is not. But, it is the most beautiful road that you can travel on. So long as you are mortal like me. Yes, even for a sinner like me it is beautiful. More than I deserve. Always more.

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

A Cup of Heresy from a Cellar of Wine - Prose of Ramadhan Part 74

The Cup of Heresy (Ramadhan Verses #39)

We sip heavy from the cup of heresy

That men call theology.

We pray on a premise of faith,

And men think high of the words

Which we recite like holy spells -

When they desire candy,

We give them candy.

When they desire wizardry,

We give them wizardry.

And when they desire an idea of the divine,

Verily, we give them our cellar of wine.

Lo, if only they had asked for servanthood!

Lo, if only they had sought patience,

We would not offer them such meager rations.

The Highest Passion is Patience - Prose of Ramadhan Part 16

88. Passion 2

Sobriety and Patience

Is better than Passion,

They become wine to those

Who have passed the state of intoxication.

Being a sinner in disguise, I have no experience worth mentioning about the spiritual path. But from my friends, who are worthy in many aspects to comment about 'the path', I have found some interesting lore. And one is that patience and sobriety is higher than any passion. However in that context, I have changed my mind since recording the prose some seven years ago. Because sometimes, it is passion that you need to fuel sobriety and patience. So perhaps it is wrong to equate passion with mind-toppling prose or action. So let me adjust the prose to say that the highest passion is patience. Yes. I like that. The Highest Passion is Patience.

13. Adoration is not love (Ariffin)

O’ wayfarer,

O’ wanderer,

O’ student of the Unseen,

If you have sup enough wine,

Then throw away the wine glass,

And take this lentil soup…

That to adore

Is not to love.

Resist adoration

When it becomes

The End of Love

And not merely

Love’s expression.

I often laugh at the puzzle and hijinks that some people stumble into in their adoration of the Masters. I think it is sweet (if sometimes surprising!). People looking from outside will regularly condemn the Sufis for their 'exaggerated love' for the Masters. But it is merely a question of perception and what you actually mean by religion. For the Sufis religion is life itself, and life itself is religion. So life is not about a quick change, an instant turning of a new leaf like that of a page. Life and religion is more like a book, with a foreword, prologue, epilogue, footnotes, chapters, bibliography and an index. 

So what chapter are you at, sunshine, in the book of your life?

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

Truth, served in a Saloon far, far away.

Once in a while, the sinner feels the need to unwind in a place where everybody knows his name. It is not called Cheers, it is called the Camel Saloon. And today the worthy Barkeep, Mr. Streur is kind enough to host one of my prose entitled "Truth is in a Pitcher". It is one of those stream-of-consciousness poems which you must read and come to your own conclusion. If you like that kinda riddle, if you are keen to befuddle your mind and challenge your understanding, CLICK HERE to enter the saloon. This is a kinda celebratory posting for myself and Mr. Streur, the subject matter of which I hope to share with you real soon.

But until that day comes, please drink a toast for life, love, saints, angels and camels!

Salut, kitty cat!

Pax Taufiqa.

Drunk like a Cat - Umrah Pilgrimage Part 8

Juzz a leetle beet more, my good man. Hic!

I don't know how long I can make it being this way. I am kinda indiferrent and calm at this moment, sprawled as I am on the floor of the Kuala Lumpur International Airport. But if I allow myself a moment to think about what is about to happen (God Willing), this trip to Jerusalem, Medina and Mecca... and the planned visitations to the resting place of the Prophet and Prophets, Saints and Companions... well I get a little dizzy. I lose my balance between past and present. I lose my sobriety, I become intoxicated.

The wonderful thing about this kinda of intoxication is that I will have no regrets. I shan't be worried about my picture turning up on the internet looking like a darn fool.

Wait... Am I gonna regret this picture...!?

Perhaps I am lucky this way, I don't know. There is no hangover to suffer, no bills to be paid at the end of this Maqam Crawl, unlike a pub crawl.

I have to leave pretty soon. Tabung Haji (The National Pilgrimage Fund) are giving a pre-flight talk. I wish I can write more. Perhaps later.

Have a good day, sunshine. Tonight I am a traveler.

Pax Taufiqa.

The Three Phases of a Real Moon

I AM REAL...
As real as the fluttering
Wings of a butterfly,
And at night, when
The Moon is bright
And clear, you can see me, my dear.

.

I AM REAL...
As real as the song in your heart,
I am real,
As real as the blood that
Spills from your cut,
I am the wine,
I am the honey,
The sugar in your soul,
The perfect icing
Of your favourite party cake,
I am unique and I have no peer,
And at night, when
The Moon is hidden,
You can still feel me, my dear.

I AM REAL...
I am the breath of you lover,
I am your birth and your death,
I am unique and I have no fear,
And at night, when
The Moon is crescent and silent,
You can still hear me, my dear.

Love - The Governing Light, A White Fire

O’ Governing Light!

O’ Governing Fire!

White Fire!

The Governing Love,

Beyond passions

That poets use to sprout wings and fly,

Beyond happenstances,

That lovers use to breach the peace!

Love that governs,

Love the ministers,

Love that guides.

Tis’ sweet beyond

The drunken ribald

Of minstrels such as I!

.............................

From chapter 26, "Stay Clear"

.

Pax Taufiqa

The Art of Drinking in the Tavern of Love, with Abu Yazid, Hallaj, Rumi and Abdul Qadir Geylani

In Teddy Bears and Sweet Gentle Walks we spoke of how Love will change your life. And I must warn you that, given free rein, Love will demolish your doubts and sadness. I know this to be true, because more than a year ago a kindly bartender in the Tavern of Love told me…
.

21. A heady draught II
Ah, drinkers,
Did you not see
The sign outside?
“Verily, you who
Wish to enter,
Leave your doubts
And sighs outside.

For only love is
drunk here. Love
in all her delight.
Love! Love!
Love without respite!”

So how can we stop drinking Love, my friends? It is a most addictive beverage. A drink distilled by the Very Best of Distiller and promoted by the Very Best of Copywriter …

22. A Heady Draught III
Love is a draught
Exquisite in nature,
Brewed in secret
Like no other,
A loving nectar,
A liquid amber
Coursing through
Your soul like a
Golden river.

So, again and again we order from the bartender, “One more! One more!”, despite the looming hangover which we sometimes suffer because …

.

23. A Heady Draught IV
Without discretion
Love manifests itself
In the morning after
As a painful hangover.

And after 4 prose of Love, where are we? Ah, here… to the fifth and final round, which I invite your toast, ladies and gents, in the honoured remembrance of Abu Yazid al-Bistami, Hallaj, Rumi and Shaykh Abdul Qadir Geylani! Come on, sinners… finish it and I will join you drunk under the Table of the Prophets and Saints! Because, if we are not worthy to sit with them, at least let us get intoxicated under them!
.

A Heady Draught V
If you desire Love, Happy Hour is Every Hour
Alas for those who seek Love without Love,
For only by Love will you find Love.

And if you have passed that stage,
And come to know the Bartender
A little better, then
You will finally realise that
In the Tavern of Love,
All drinks are, In Truth,
On the House!

Have a great Sunday, sunshine.

Pax Taufiqa.

.

P/S - First 3 poems here are from the chapter entitled 'How Beautiful Love is' completed 9th October 2009. The last, is happily freshly brewed this wonderful Sunday morning, 14th November 2010. How lucky are we!

She is the Weather of my World

I have a secret summer,
Awaken in the sunrise of her soul,
Bright and warm like an eternal sun
Rising over the spoils of my wicked soil,

I have a secret autumn,
As she comes to rest upon my shoulder,
Like leaves withering and falling,
Desiring words of hope and healing.

I have a secret winter,
Neither bitter nor cold,
But white like the white of her eyes,
And I am lost in her dunes and folds,
For there is warmth here, and I turn away
From hearth and home, finding
Mine in her snowflakes, melting
On the warmth of a winter morning.

I have a secret spring,
Sprung with desperate release
From a rich earth, as seeds of
Hope and healing burst into flower,
And from her lips words tumble,
Sharp as needles, sweet like nectar.

For you see,
I am in love and
Have met a girl,

She is no secret at all,
She is the weather of my world.

.................................................

From the chaper entitled 'How Beautiful Love is', circa Oct 2009

I look into her eyes as I would look out of the window. To see how fair or rainy the day would be. I think it is best to be prepared whatever the weather... But in her torrential storm, an umbrella won't be of any use at all. I am not complaining, Heche. I am just sharing. Hehehe.

Salams,

Taufiq.

Love, Madness and The Illusion of You

Love, Sweetest & Most Bitter

We are loading our donkeys
With tributes and riding them into the sea.
We are the courageous and foolish,
Simpletons on Quixote’s mount,
Undaunted and fearing nothing,
We take our supper under the sky
And quench our thirst with wine
Stolen from our masters’ cellars!

The incorrigible and destitute,
The lost and guided knights
With banners borrowed
From Saladin’s tomb.

Stampeding headlong,
Hardheaded and kindhearted,

To be lost forever in His Ocean,

O’ Love, Sweetest and Most Bitter!

(No.9, from 'Raindrops') If you desire to walk the path, then prepare yourself to stumble, to get lost, to face monster windmills and other illusions that challenged Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. Along the way, you may perhaps even face the mightiest illusion of all... the illusion of you. Abu Yazid, Ibnu Arabi, Hallaj and old Rumi may have put it differently, but this is what we call poetic license. Hehehe.

Let me be the Wine (14, from 'Muhammad, my Only Other')

O’ love,
Let me be the wine that you drink,
The mead that will drive you blind,
To end your speculating,
To end all thinking,
To bring you to Him,
As you brought me to Him,
Singing His gentle hymn,
Awake and in the closeness
Of my peaceful dreams.

Let me be the coffin of your doubts,
The bonfire of all your sadness,
The kindling to burn away
This world and all her weariness.

Hemlock and Wine (Our two masters)

At this crossroad,
Both the Saint
And the Devil
Are our masters,
One guiding,
The other misguiding,
One to be listened to,
The other to be ignored.

And as we are shown
Subtle and beautiful truths,
So too do the lies become
Cunningly fine,
To test us again and again,
Which is hemlock,
And which is wine.