The shrine in me

Comes a time
yesterday
today
days ahead
Like a whirling dervish
... Like the prince under a bodhgaya tree
Like the kings of kings wandering still
I will
Circumambulate that shrine unseen
seven times aplenty
across seven seas
across seven heavens no one has ever seen
alone I will be seen
walking in trance
in thought
in tranquility
From the dawn of man
till the dusk of divinity
I shall go around in circles
till the shrine in me
becomes larger than Time and Space collapsing
larger than even souls and memories congregating
till the shrine in me explodes like that day
the universe becomes it
as the it journeys into the Thou
bringing along thee
I shall circumambulate that shrine
With every step I make
every breath I take
will each dust be sprinkled like a sound
in each mantra
I shall circumnavigate
that shrine
that heart of mine .... 

Epihany of a mediated self

i am beginning to realize
that my entire life has been one
mediated by the forces of media
owned by those who owns the means of inscribing
onto and into me
... ideologies that are derived from institutions of power/knowledge
and control,
having its roots in the history of the interplay
between materialism and class,
and i have long realized that the feudal lords
in cahoot with the priest class
in control of water for irrigation and scriptures to numb the mind
-- these two culprit-classes of people
have reproduced me
in a clever matrix of production and reproduction,
such that i am no longer my true self,
that my true self actually do not exist,
except what is being told
by those who taught me the scriptures
of which the scriptures themselves have evolved,
written and rewritten,
revealed and re-revealed
in a complex system of evolution you and i are not aware of
except what is being told through
education,
indoctrination,
propaganda,
and a systematic colonization of the mind
by the neo-feudalistic rulers ...
this is what i am beginning to realize
and i am not happy with the revelation
and neither i am happy for all of you
and i now ask this question:
who is accountable for my definition,
false definition,
of a human being and what then must you and i do ... ?
in the meantime
i am ceasing to be myself as i know it and i now
will be known as
"the-one-who- used-to be-known-as-azly" 

Amerika and I

AMERIKA
This may sound corny
funny
a blasphemy
an irony
... likened to a comedy
but i have missed you terribly
AMERIKA
how have you been?
Like McD ... thank you for supersizing me
Like a Dunkin Donut ... you run on it
Like Coke, you teach the world to sing, in perfect harmony
Like Nike .. you tell me to just do it!
AMERIKA you are funny
I missed your comedy
your tragedy
your hegemony
your superiority
You make feel like an army of one
A Rambo
A Peace Corps volunteer in The Bronx Zoo
AMERIKA ..
You and I
we chill ...
we're good to go
we're right when we have the might
We're like Starsky and Hutch
Ben and Jerry
Bonnie and Clyde
Tom and Jerry
Obama and Hillary
We're good we're good we're bad we're bad
AMERIKA ... I have missed you
Raise your torch Lady Liberty
When I land in New Jersey
AMERIKA .. you are funny

Ode to folks of kuala lumpur city

ode to folks of kuala lumpur city
by azly rahman

even if in your lifetime you will taste poverty aplenty
live a life corrupt-free and with highest dignity
... ... there is beauty in deep reverie when others are living a life obsessed with money
i have seen friends and family fall flat on their face for a life of greed and gluttony
never take a single cent you do not deserve out of your hard work
and reward you wait patiently
that was the constant advice given by our ancestors remembered so lovingly
how much must one accumulate in life to prepare for one's life in the uncertainties of eternity
the daily papers tell me how corrupt this malaysian society has chosen to be
millions and billions changing hands with people refusing to work hard like the coolie with the deepest sense of honesty
dig not your million dollar grave, friends and family
people these days are getting crazy over money money money
offer me not not a million a billion a trillion maybe
these have no meaning for me who prefer a life of simplicity
where i could ride the, bus, meditate on the train, or watch ships sail the seven seas
i could do these without any worry, where my next million going to crawl to me
how many souls i will need to destroy -- him as utility and his entire family
in my path towards achieving the highest glory in life based on money aplenty
no, i shall not sacrifice my cave, my poetry, my love for philosophy, the arts and humanities, my love for humanity, my freedom to
take my midnight walks along highways taking me to the the sea and its serenity
a free spirit i am
bless i hope all --- whose live in this kuala lumpur city
is about destroying each other as taught by machiavelli

From a dream

 From a dream

woke up from a dream
in which i am asked to create
a new genre in fiction writing
and to push this movement to its final conclusion ...
i have written in my sleep ...
... countless times ...
the hands writes and writes ...
only the quill and the parchment i could see ...
words and words become dissertations
and exhausted i stopped at times and wakes up
to see a world of illusion ...
and continue the thoughts i left off in my dreams
and into the cybernetic world i transpose
the ideas in the parchment
into the pastures of digital spirituality
i have become
merely words
my entire beingness has become the will
of the Author of Things
to write anything
even if i tremble at what i have written
for they come from my dreams
they become flesh
becomes thoughts
becomes ideas
break walls
storm bastilles
destroy
create
destroy
like shiva vishnu brahma
like the sword with those two verses
of a rubaiyat of the self
so powerful
that cuts across the seven heavens
as they collapses in the seven hells
i write and write
until night comes
another dream another revelation
illusion of whirling and whirling like a derwish
of the dance of shiva
another new thought
for a new genre
i have become
the quill and the parchment
in one
only that

On Malaysian education: poverty and margnalization

Public

Azly Rahman

Some vital statistics on educational spending in Malaysia vis-a viz marginalization, poverty, and education. Equality for schools? Look at how much is spent on MARA Junior Science Colleges, the elitist Malay schools? How might this relate to the process of social reproduction? Are we creating classes of people with different access and hence a class of the political economic haves and have nots? ......What paradigm of education necessitates the need to see schooling as separate and unequal? How do we reverse this trend of unequal distribution of resources and make intelligence and the nurturing of it be the right of each child, especially those who are disadvantaged economically, regardless of race? Please share this.

 

 

meditations: south china sea

"meditations: south china sea"
-azly rahman

At times in
my moments of deep reverie
... I know that I am that gibraltar of a rock in the south china sea
sitting there with eyes closed with awakedness
since the beginning of time I have been as such
watching the waves pound mercilessly onto my feet
still with my eyes closed i look down below
waves that rage at times gently
at times like a tsunami of our soul's vulnerability
I am that rock of ages
uncarved
but gently caressed by the tides of yesteryears
by the temper of the day
by the silence of the midnight breeze of a future yet to be serenading
the souls of men
I am that gibraltar of a rock
occasionally opening my eyes
guiding ships
lost souls wandering in the middle of the sea
the sea of chinese complexities
sea waves like velvet and gold blankets of the eternal spring
i am those eyes opening closing opening
yet never gazing at the moon and the stars
always lowering my gaze like a gentle gibraltar softened by the madness
of the moonlight
always lowering my gaze looking into the eyes
of men and beast down below
as they struggle to slay
the whispers in their souls
like wildfire raging in each cell of their body
like warriors of yesteryears they fight
in a roman arena of their own creation
I am that rock
that gibraltar of a soul
in the south china sea
where waves explode
winds rage
wandering souls weep
whispers scream
for love hidden
from the mirror of the soul

Whirling and whirling

Whirling and whirling
by Azly Rahman

whirling and whirling and whirling
i sometimes do not know what Time looks like any longer
like a bird of paradise that cuts across the raging clouds high above yonder
a simurgh on a long journey
across souls of the the universe that blunder and weep
across i passed spirits that have left the world down below
i have become the wind in the darkest night only
maddening raging parading clouds know
i have closed my eyes and let the souls in me argue furiously
which way to go
which way the wind should blow
whence my whirls of ecstasy should end
when i too know that there is no beginning
there is no end
i continue to whirl
till rumi and saadi and hafiz and hallaj silence me
till siddhartha and kabir and the sages accompanying isa pleaded for my sanity
till the minarets of istanbul pierce into my soul and let my spirit bleed
and soar
and awaken the universe entire
of my cries of neither joy nor sorrow
cries merely they must look like
as silent as a smiling derwish
never a perfection i wish to become
though perfect are the circles of my dances i have performed
the master and the slave i have become
you and i -- only breath
of a syllable of wide awaken drunkedness


whirling and whirling and whirling still
i have learned to smile a cynical smile
amazed at the world build as playground of hypocrites to triumph
amazed at the hatred amongst men that has permeated in even those who knows what love looks like
in my smile of a thousand despair for a world beyond repair
as if emotions in total chaos
my senses chant the song of hope to build these cages inside of me
to keep barbaric souls at he gate from crashing in
whirls and smiles i must become
my eyes weary from this journey of light and sound
of a dream and reality and these in contradiction so profound
i have smiled a thousand smiles
and loved a thousand times
and been loved a million more
in hope that this world will one day be safe and sound
and be back in the arms of those who only have love
as a way to triumph
i shall let my weary spirit soar
ascending the heights of illuminations and dark clouds marching in ferocious might
again i closed my eyes
only love will awaken me
with a gentle smile
and wash away the cynicism my lips hath learned to live by
whirling and whirling i am now
in the stillness of looking at only breath -- you and

by the sea, midnight

"by the sea, midnight"  

by azly rahman

sometimes
many times
i long for the sea to be rolled out like a beautiful persian carpet
... right before my eyes everytime
i feel weary and the stillness of the night whispers
and as nightfall the waves become like an approaching congregation
of men in robe with hair beautifully unkempt, glows on their face
from the horizon, waves accompanying their feet like a procession of the
grandiose of those honored in a beggar's banquet feasting on tedious
arguments on what we are doing on the face of the earth
roll out the ocean
the horizon
the waves that pound on my heart every second
every second
every second
every breath
of my eyes shut
every wave rages
like a chant of a gregorian soul
or the mantra of a thousand lotus unfolding
each wave cleanses the darkening spots of the million of years
of the soul's undying love of this world ephemeral
i am one with the sea
with the waves that crush mercilessly onto the rocks of many gibraltars
of the eons of existence of each soul as it moves from one form to another
i am one with the breeze that whispers the haunting memory of separation
as each huge roots of the mangrove bind me never to release me
to be overjoyed with madness
from the voices of the sirens of homer's odyssey
i am the fire that burns eternally in the darkest night yonder
on the horizon of the ocean rolled out for me to feast on
as i watch with my eyes wide shut the invinsible steps of the men in white robe approaching without a sound
approaching the awaiting me on the moonlit shore of the place i still long for
i am the sands on the beach
a million me bathed by each particle of the rays that become moonlight
i am the earth
the sky
the moonlight
the breeze
the waves raging
and with not a single sound i could hear me
sitting with my eyes closed
as the sea like a persian carpet again unrolled
ending yet another story of a creation untold
at times
many times
I have become Time itself
as night falls

Ode to Darkness

"ode to darkness" by azly rahman

sometimes it is better to read the world when it is dark
and when night opens up the senses
like music of the spheres
... in darkness lie the cave of the illuminated self in which
spirit dance in circles before wandering like men in begging bowls
like the awaited sign unto which love is taught to humanity that hates
when night come greeting like a sea of congregation of the wise men of the east from across the desert, canopied by the moon
when night is like a silent thunder roaring the words of love that knows neither beginning nor end
when night will become a blanket of spirits for the freezing and shivering soul awaiting yet another revelation
you are beautiful, darkness -- my friend that never a wink stray from the shivering soul i am in this mundane world of tedious arguments
of right and wrong
of the sacred and profane
of resurrection and resuscitation
night -- like the poetry of a flowing river bathed by the spirit of the morning sun
you are the one i yearn for as i begin to open the chapter of yet another epic
of silence