Sufi in America

While I stand with solidarity with my Muslim brothers and sisters, I must make the statement that not all Muslims have long beards, wear hijabs orΒ are super religious. In fact, my interpretation of Islam would likely be deemed too liberal for the hardline orthodoxy. But that’s when things get political. Just keep in mind, thereContinue reading “Sufi in America”

Excerpts from the Red Journal

My heart’s tremors are there to remind me, Of the realization I perhaps once knew, Was I not sure just yesterday, Of which direction the wind blew?

Listen to Rise of the Eastern Son on TIDAL, Soundcloud, iTunes & Spotify!

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softly

live and be happy stress not and worry only for good never for worse picture the life mirror the life you want to live whether its right or wrong

DUES

Who is this looking at me so ludicrous, My mind is a jungle and my eyes uterus, Birth a new vision yall can see truth exist, Earn a few wishes I can be humorous, Funny kind of humor but I be serious, At times I see through hooligans, Let me tell you dudes what IContinue reading “DUES”

that is all

The past is the past. That is all.

as if for the first time

in everything there is an answer, in your smile; in his; in the way we laugh, when, like kids, we kiss…

White Feathers

Your veil makes you that much more, Attractive to my inner yearnings, Oh how I wish that I could be, Underneath that cotton surface covering your head, tracing along your hair, Down your arched spine. I see you in my dreams, Lying on the softness of my bed sheets, Your olive skin against them, DrowningContinue reading “White Feathers”

Inner Turmoil

What will tomorrow’s weather bring, What will the weather bring, Tomorrow when…yes, tomorrow, How am I to track every thing?   Thought I’d dance this night away, While yesterday I yearned to sing, Today my studies are still unfinished, My anxiousness is lingering.   I’ve done what ought to be done, What I lost beforeContinue reading “Inner Turmoil”

Transcending

Have you known a man who cries when he sings, When he presses against the white key, his music rings, Like a wasp, his music stings, Piercing layers binding spirits to beings.   He lives in magic, and flies without wings, There’s a soul upon his body, whispering things, Swallowing his spirit, breathing his lyric,Continue reading “Transcending”

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