Monday, December 14, 2009


A sect, a religion, a cult,
All is so confusing.
Everyone says he is on the right path.
A Jewish is happy,
Heaven is his.
So is a Christian, a Muslim.
A Buddhist, a Zoroastrian, a Hindu.
All, they think, in their imagination.
One day I am going to say:
See, I told you.
You didn’t follow the right path.
And now you are going to burn in hell.
And the heaven, with all the clear running water,
Shades and fruit of beautiful trees
Creeks of Milk and honey
All is mine, mine alone.
Then there are sects in every religion,
Each one of them thinks the same.
He or she is true Muslim, true Jewish, and true Christian.
All the rest are still going to hell.
Is this all so confusing?
Not really,
The answer is not atheism.
We don’t know God for what he really is.
We all try to give him face, image.
Fatherhood, eyes, ears, and hands.
Forgetting that he is not one of us.
Nothing like anything he created in the Universe.
We are all wrong, the only right is he.
Maybe in that day,
The day that most call the Day of Judgment.
One would come who laughs at all.
A Sufi or a mystic.
Twirling and dancing.
I was right, I was right.
God is so great.
I never tried to describe him.
I didn’t give him eye and nose.
He doesn’t belong to a sect or a religion.
He doesn’t have a nation or a favorite.
He is no ones and everyone’s.
Only your actions will save you.
Not your mumbo jumbo.
The unknowable is still unknowable.
The nameless still remains nameless.
The ultimate non-existent,
Is too great for us to know,
Or to understand.
By Kabuli

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Blasphemy again!

If I wasn't here
Who was going to make you laugh?
With all the heavy burden
Of keeping the universe
And beyond in order.
You need time off
To forget everything.
I say those words,
You know I don't believe in them.
You don't need a comedian.
And you don't need a rest.
Or get tired.
I am nothing.
Compared to what you have,
I am smaller than a dust particle
Dancing in a faint light
Shining from a window
Of a poor man.
Yet you still listen to it
And you don't get angry.
I think about all the contracts
That I read about in the bible
Or the versions that is left of it.
Contract that you and Moses,
You and the sons of Israel made together.
And every time they do something
That wasn't your wish,
You would punish them
With horrible pain and destructions.
Or every time,
One of their chiefs doesn’t like something.
They accuse others or breaking your contract.
They will invoke your name,
To make themselves more powerful.
Yet, I know that, with all the destruction
All the bad luck that comes with it.
Still not afraid.
Saying, God, do you remember our contract?
The one I and you had.
Knowing we never did,
You never promised me anything.
I ask you to honor it anyways.
Yet you still say, contract?
Did we have one?
Sure, I will honor it.
And give you what you want.
I am proud of myself.
Even though I know, pride is always yours.
I say that because I know
You would not wrestle with something.
That is nothing.
And you never break a heart.
Because that’s where you reside.
I can do those things.
Because I know.
I have a different kind of God.
The only one that is God
Not the ones we made as God.
The one who is too great
To take revenge,
From a tiny particle of dust.
Shining from the poor man’s window

© 2009 by kabuli