Excerpts from the Last Sufi



‘The war is looming,’

and she shuts the doors,


readies the children to take flight,

her husband hastily sells off,







A dervish is messing close by,

watching them rev up their BMW.










‘Fool of God!’

screams the guy turning the steering wheel,


‘We have money to buy consumables such as oil,’

and the car skids away.


The hurricane has begun,

their vehicle hit,


and the family

huddle around,


‘Blasted engine’s lost all oil,’

and now he understands the dervish.


When you fear an impending disaster,

know that you can’t rely on things,


paper money


plastic cards


are useless in the grave,

along with your developed muscles.


Allah gives you Good, gives you Evil,

and you’re tested with them both,

the Qur’an, We will test you with good and evil as a trial


don’t mistake your signs of piety

with piousness,


repeating mantras may be good

at filling your time

but are you filling your soul?


A sandwich with too much filling

ceases to be a sandwich,


with love of a 1000 degrees,

you cease to be human


as your earthly bits

have extinguished into ash,


as it should

to create the mystical




whence you originated,


her mysterious body is

a cloth to fit the return


of you to you.


Your home isn’t in the looking,

the scent has given the clue:


a copy of the Divine sound is recorded in you,

you’re a recording of a sound-bite


political spin-doctors can’t label


or the greatest marketer can sell,


you can’t popularise the Spirit,

it shuns PR men,


with more guile,

than a clever virgin,


it’s such a high absolute,

the laws of the cosmos bend up there,


and we have built a slide and swings to play with,

in the ruins.