by Walt Whitman

A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;

How could I answer the child?. . . .I do not know what it is any more than he.

I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.

Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,

A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropped,Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say Whose?....

Warm Summer Sun

Warm Summer Sun
by Mark Twain


Warm summer sun,
Shine kindly here,
Warm southern wind,
Blow softly here.
Green sod above,
Lie light, lie light.
Good night, dear heart,
Good night, good night.

And You Thought You Were the Only One

And You Thought You Were the Only One
by Mark Bibbins


Someone waits at my door. Because he is
dead he has time but I have my secrets--

this is what separates us from the dead.
See, I could order take-out or climb down

the fire escape, so it's not as though he
is keeping me from anything I need.

While this may sound like something I made up,
it is not; I have forgotten how to

lie, despite all my capable teachers.
Lies are, in this way, I think, like music

and all is the same without them as with.
The fluid sky retains regret, then bursts.

He is still there, standing in the hall, insisting
he is someone I once knew and wanted,

come laden with gifts he cannot return.
If I open the door he'll flash and fade

like heat lightning behind a bank of clouds
one summer night at the edge of the world.

After the Dazzle of Day

After the Dazzle of Day

After the dazzle of day is gone

Only the dark night shows to my eyes the stars;

After the clangor of organ majestic or chorus or perfect band

Silent athwart my soul moves the symphony true.
WALT WHITMAN.

decide to give or to lose

It's good to feel alive by the way you give. It's bad to find your friends or those around you playing ignorant when it comes to share their knowledge with you. How generous one should be not to fear giving away all in his hand.
Does a man lose if he let others learn part of what he's privileged to learn in the past?
Is life a game of gain and not to lose?

a poem about Christmas or Spring?

Spring; thou art close to the gates of our field,
When we are preparing for the partying friends.
Christmas, we celebrate thee in our hearts,
Wintry December lightens in our green memories of the past

"me said this poem bro"

Madinnah, Spring 2008

How I miss Hajj

I used to take practical Muslims as radical people. Then I changed and put a difference between being a true believer in God and a radical man. Now there is metamorphosis even deeper than what I expected. Faith in God helps humanity survive, no matter how practical you are or in what religion you find it.

My journey to Medinna and Mecca, spring this year, gave me a pause. I didn't expect it! I don't know whether the reader of these words has experienced Hajj or not? But as I should explain my journey to Islam, I would rather say that I expected a castle of opulence and luxury. Much to my surprise the very first look at the four black walls of Kabba rid me of all the burden I had carried all 28 years of my life as a human. I was depressed at the first sight but freed at the end.
One could find the people turning around the house of God as one stream of mankind, wearing no luxurious outfits but a towel in white and walking in bare feet! We all were as one! One nation, one dream, one God! How I miss Hajj, and how I wish to go back to the Masjed-al-Nabi in Medinna and talk to God with my soul in Mecca!