Friday, December 26, 2008

The Identification of Identity

I am Al-Kahira, the conqueror of nonsense and flowers.

I am grateful for my stupidity, admitted easily, yet I am
concerned with specific details of style as I sit here in rags.

By circumstance and not by choice this shrub has blossomed:
by choice and not by circumstance this life has been kept

I made an effort and found stuff to ignore, leave rusty things
I neglect the spectacular and overlook the apparently
important with deliberation.

I’ve waited aeons for the reversal of my interests: Now life
has become the joke and sweetness and hilarity of my own
thoughts have turned into a fascination for me.

No matter what anyone tells you: I do not belong to any
creed or sect, culture or race, nor to any period in history.

My only qualification is the age of my soul: I own three
palaces of quiet pre-dawn moon sound.

Humiliation is my clothing that I wear to sit and bark with the
dogs. I disconnect like dusk and most likely no one will bring
flowers to my grave.

I am ardent without deed and I am information zero,
unimportant iridescent: Grand Palace of Mercy.

Till now I stayed in one place not avoiding you:
now that the traditions are beginning to dissolve, I
put on my wintercoat and walk away.
Business done.

My contemporaries have declared society to be the central
item and are discussing things of importance as
I am speaking to you now.

As my mother taught me to, I keep to myself a lot.

I am the lover of trees, found worthy of loneliness.

I could be the postman, the milkman, the sick person,
the transvestite.
It takes one to recognize one…

I am the unknown dervish.

St.Scribbler identifies himself with this statement drop-down...and i was mentioning to him that if ever there was a female counterpart to this, i would love to be that (maybe i am, maybe i am not). He is a philosopher and a saint in his own rights apart from being one of the best unpublished writers i've ever read. I got this beautiful piece of literature from him and felt that the poignancy that it is suffused with, like an intoxicating perfume, is so pure and raw. There is also this sufi, off beatish, mystic, vagabondish aura that surrounds it.
Nice. Definitely.


copy rioter said...

This is beautiful, very beautiful.
Scribbler's blog is amazing too except err...I saw "Shobha Dey" in his blogroll ;-)
Ok, I'd better get out of here before I start rioting too much..

Preeti said...

heh heh heh...

Riot said, mate!!!

Preeti said...

And Shobha Dey is nothing...he alone is a force to be reckoned with!!! Amazing writer!!!

Twisted Elegance.... said...

Your blog header is very cool :)

Preeti said...


Thank you