I write in the morning and I become a Buddhist. I write late at night and I become a philosopher. The questions which come to my mind stay only for a fleeting moment. I know quickly that I will never have an answer. Instead, I dwell on why that question would arise in those deep vats of nothing I call conscience.

What does my heart say?

I Wish

My life ooohhhh my life
A comedic pair of words
Repeated all across the world at any given moment
And what do they mean

They mean my feelings
They mean my limitations
They mean my frustrations
They mean my victories and beliefs

It’s all about me
This mindset of central tendency
The objective mind has no power in “my life”
Let me separate those words

My pain is the process for another joy
My joy the process for another pain
My silence a process for a time to speak
My speech a process for a conversation of listening

Now imagine those lines without “my”
And here we are
Where we started and will most likely finish
The meaninglessness of oblivion

Until then allow me to live blindly without judgement
Allow me to sigh relief no matter what good or bad befalls me
Allow me to see God through the lens of my own soul
Allow me to sense the unknown through the presence of mystery

These words, as I put them on the page
I don’t believe them
My mood interjects and in half an hour I will be ready to fall down again
My life

I wish I was more attractive
I wish I could jump higher
I wish I was more clever
I wish I had control of my life

Pity exudes from those words as a mirror reflects my face
My name is Azeem
My father’s name is Imran
The eternal has come to reap it’s story

Mood and the eternal
An important contradiction
Lost between feeling the now and knowing it has yet to pass
Together those equal surrender, and to what?

I have want to surrender
Place me in the hands of God and guide my way evermore
I have want to grow so big I shade others with my branches
There nothing more than power in this world so I act

I have answered none of my perplexities
And I do not intend on it
The next situation will be granted passage as this one is ending
My search has been in vain

The moon passes from behind the sun
And it seems that my feeling should start with “my thought”
-Zazzo

If I were to fight the battle of truth on the hill of society. I would say that almost any issue that creates conflict and hate can be traced back to two definable terms. Those being; subjugation and exploitation. The easiest and most direct argument for this can be surmised with the following. Society is problematic because humans are problematic, humans are problematic because, even though humans are relatively empathetic creatures, we are okay with using each other for our own gain and advantage. It is an attribute and trait of human society. We devour each other, knowingly and unknowingly.

Is the ultimate quandary for human life that humans can’t make up their goddamned minds? First, we believe in one thing, then things change. Then we believe in another thing, then something comes up. Soon enough we have played for every single team. This can be described as a direct reflection of nature. Things are as they are, objective. Is our subjective and relative minds the only thing between us and the understanding that life is a series of events before death that are not connected in any way other than that they happen to us? What is subjectivity..

Lost

Feeling lost in a universe I have never seen
Never lived in
Never been aware of
Never even dreamed of

What a beautiful quandary I present myself
Losing myself in a place I have never been
Who is myself
And what is losing who

All these questions and statements skate around the issue
No one has ever been found
If they have it was not by intuition
The path is set and available

It takes a clear mind
A clear body
An open heart
And a free spirit

To grasp the unknown

All these traits and attributes exist within us all
So beautiful, the only action is to enact
Like a true scholar
What comes next is what we call life

It will never be any different

My soul right now is to be engaged
The cliff ahead of me is beckoning
One step is all it takes
To be lost forever, falling

My senses overwhelmed and afraid
I am flinching even at simple thoughts
Is this really the hand I have been dealt
Can life be so fragile

The decisions and discussions to be had
Will come with time
Life is not so pretentious
One can never know

The spirit can endure much
And every seed planted is fruit come to bear
I do not take myself lightly
I do not exasperate my experiences with an overflow of judgement

I wait and am patient
A clear mind and open heart grow many things inside
Just as water on dirt
Who knows what will come up

Let’s all give it a try and believe what we see
Though vision is the pinnacle of doubt
Lost in the blender of life, my eyes provide me no refuge
Searching for a patient mind

The unknown comes to my aid
Allowing me to live freely

-Zazzo

Is the only outcome to life tragedy? Just as the Greeks imagined it.

Is there anything more valuable than youth?

For one to have at least doubted God, is to claim his/her humanity. Truth is not a bed of certainty. Alas, it is a mess of mixed colors only hinting at reality.

What does the world know about what is happening to it? Mostly nothing. For the most part, people live in the dark and in the shadow of what is truly going on. Now, one could point out that these “people” who know nothing of truth, are actually living the “real” life. To this I would say it is true. Truth is only something that matters when one has determined it matters to him/her.

I have recently come to the realization that I very possibly have never had an original thought. It is a vexing thing to realize. I spend so much of my time tempering my mind, body, and soul, only to realize that I am a human being! We are confined to this certain reality with all it’s perplexities. Nothing I have ever thought cannot be met by a contrary idea, one that shifts the meaning and purpose of an argument. I stayed in that place for a long time, believing that the only real contrarian to words were actions. It is not so, because even actions are simply attachments to the world, a hiding place. Humans do not communicate or act based on the amount of thoughts they have had or the amount of actions they have created. Truth is belief is oneself. And faith is belief in another. Hope is belief in God. Yet, love. What is love? Belief in all, no matter how tall or how small. It is here I wish to reside. Let the world flow through me. In my thoughts, and in my actions. In my beliefs and in my ideas. In my truths and in my faults. In my creations and in my misgivings. I am not only a humble servant, I am master of the ocean and skies. I am one who believes in mine own soul. It has never been mine and it has been mine all the time. I am here to accept my fate as a man. As a lover. As a writer. As a brother. As a father. As a human. It is not me, but through me. Nothing I create is original. There is only one original and we will never know it. For it creates us and all that is around us.