Darvish Khan Writes

GHAZAL TO FAST FOOD RAPTURE

In our lost land of fast food and bad breath,
We pray for the Rapture to bless our death!

Our Resurrection will achieve liftoff-
We will look down on those below and scoff.

A mass ascension for the lucky few:
The refried Christian and the repentant Jew.

The whole family will rise together,
To live with our Holy Father forever.

We will eat the wonder bread of Heaven
And never have to take a shit again.

Our purity will grow and grow until,
We are satiated with divine swill.

Darvish does not want to witness and face
The grand implosion of such sweet grace.

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Mother Kali is beautiful and ferocious beyond belief;
Approach her as a lover, and you will know soon enough!

Kali is not a mother who preserves the status quo:
She loves to destroy all that impedes her creative flow.

Kali is consciousness passionate to reveal herself-
She will rip limb from body to uncover her pure self.

She stands on her consort Shiva whose body appears dead:
He breathes and lives through her blood-dripping, smiling head!

She is Shakti, and delights to display her holy prowess;
Her thirst for life is infinite and her courage boundless.

Kali is the dance of Spirit through form with fiery love:
She is the ecstatic dance of bliss as all veils are removed.

Darvish loves his wild mother for her perfect devotion;
She never rests from rescuing her lost, desperate son.

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The dawn breeze kicks up the dust in lover’s lane;
My gritty speech praises the Rend’s lonely pain.

I reach for the bottle rolling across the floor-
My arm can reach so far, and then no more.

Where is the Friend with long black curly hair,
To fill my glass with glances that end all despair?

The Sun of mercy has left us sobbing for his face-
His shadow blinds with blackness in lieu of grace.

We can’t see you with stone eyes sunken in sockets;
The days bless with pity, and infinite regrets.

What light we have escapes from a broken heart,
That guides us to believe in our hopeless art.

Darvish’s song bites with grit but still inspires:
One day, he will see by the light of love’s desire.

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We swear by the earth that supports us,
And by the dust that crowns us at last.

By the breath that infuses us with life,
And inspires with frank and honest strife.

By the fire that gives body and mind light,
And cooks our food and comforts at night.

By the water that makes all life vibrant,
And our land fruitful, happy and verdant.

We swear by the womb, the portal of birth,
And by the love that celebrates death.

We lift our hands in praise of your presence,
And proudly laugh at time’s senescence.

Darvish finds in nature your real mercy:
All that passes reveals your true glory!

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The ocean way is a trackless path with no shore,
an infinite horizon where the mind is insecure.

All the desperate search for stable identity
vomits with longing for permanent solidity.

Such immensity of rolling water and salty air
gives rise to rich and redolent green despair.

There is no remedy but to die. Long to die
to every thought, desire and nauseating lie!

Love is all dying to precious posturing before
the pitiless sky, and the ocean’s angry roar.

Our only Friend is to trust in our oblivion;
by grace, the mind will drown in pure elation.

Darvish retches with style as proved by his verse:
no one else writes ghazals so dark- and humorous!

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