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Thread: URIKORN's Musings & Sufi Poetry

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    URIKORN's Musings & Sufi Poetry

    The long process of awakening to the reality of what the hell is happening on earth
    brought me to deeply respect the american people.
    It is from your culture that some of the more obvious CABAL Operators emerged.
    Yet, and this is my point, it seems to me that your people lead the movement of awakening.
    There is a backbone in your nation, both mental and spiritual and I salute it
    and is eternally thankful
    There is so much energy in your Truth movement. Not so in my country.
    People are much more asleep and submissive.

    In some senses you are now one of the most oppressed and robbed nation.
    As I understand it the Cabal understood thar they must dampen the free american spirit.
    They made quite a good job of it.
    Yet, gradually, more and more of your people rose and rise against this encroaching process.

    If most of my spiritual knowledge comes from The Sufis, mostly people who came
    from eastern Islamic culure,
    then most of my historical knowledge comes from you people, in the U.S of America.

    For the last couple of years I lived American politics and its various life issues -
    - medicine, education, MSM, banks etc - tragedies and hopes, with
    infinitely more attention and involvement that i gave to my country and culture.
    We hardly have the whistleblowers that you have, and hardly have the scholars
    and researchers that for decades work tirelessly in your midst, in which Academia
    came alive again.
    To an extent I turned into an involved american.

    I realized that your fate will be mine, to freedom or to slavery
    Last edited by URIKORN, 5th July 2015 at 04:34.

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    Picture building

    You sent me some words
    And told me in fact:
    Fill in a picture
    Build up a picture with these words of mine

    And I took took your words
    They were wide vast and deep
    I could not fill in a picture
    My canvas was too small to keep

    Led by an urge
    I surrendered to the task
    Of letting your words
    To build my canvas all anew inside

    With only the outline first
    I let my mind grow
    Allowing each word to make place inside
    To stretch the canvas where canvas there was none

    I felt indeed I have to have place
    For all and each word to peacefilly rest
    Before I have a whole wide picture
    True in front of my eyes
    Before I will have a good reason
    To tear it apart



    One woman says to another, "Poor Maisie really has suffered for what she believes in."
    "And what DOES she believe in?" asks the other.
    "She believes that you can wear a size six shoe on a size nine foot."

    source: http://www.katinkahesselink.net/sufi/stories.html
    Last edited by URIKORN, 4th July 2015 at 07:19.

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    Heretic Troll

    Mulla Nasrudin and the Wise Men Spiritual Story conveyed by Idries Shah


    The philosophers, logicians and doctors of law were drawn up at Court to examine Mulla Nasrudin.
    This was a serious case, because he had admitted going from village to village saying:
    "The so-called wise men are ignorant, irresolute, and confused."
    He was charged with undermining the security of the State.

    "You may speak first," said the King.

    "Have paper and pens brought," said the Mulla. Paper and pens were brought.

    "Give some to each of the first seven savants." The pens were distributed.

    "Have them separately write an answer to this question: "What is bread?" This was done. The papers were handed to the King who read them out:

    The first said: "Bread is a food."

    The second: "It is flour and water."

    The third: "A gift of God."

    The fourth: "Baked dough."

    The fifth: "Changeable, according to how you mean 'bread.'"

    The sixth: "A nutritious substance."

    The seventh: "Nobody really knows."

    "When they decide what bread is," said Nasrudin, "it will be possible for them to decide other things. For example, whether I am right or wrong. Can you entrust matters of assessment and judgment to people like this? Is it not strange that they cannot agree about something which they eat each day, yet are unanimous that I am a heretic and a troll?"


    This piece was stolen from here:
    https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/mulla...gautam-koppala
    Which itself was stolen from here.... which itself....
    Last edited by URIKORN, 4th July 2015 at 10:54.

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    Objectivity

    A neighbor came to Nasrudin for an interpretation on a point of law.

    ‘My cow was gored by your bull. Do I get any compensation?’

    ‘Certainly not. How can a man be held responsible for what an animal does?’

    ‘Just a moment,’ said the crafty villager. ‘I am afraid I got the question back to front. What actually happened was that my bull gored your cow.’

    ‘Ah,’ said the Mulla, ‘ this is more involved. I shall have to look up the book of precedents, for there may be other factors involved which are relevant and which could alter the case.’

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    Murky waters

    When I go into a state of pretence
    Led by envy and greed
    I feel the Field's getting murky
    I feel unease
    Do you prefer pretence or is it clear waters you rather - the Lake asks with no need for words
    And I sigh with relief and surrender again to the Lake
    Last edited by URIKORN, 4th July 2015 at 05:16.

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    Hear The Sigh

    Hear the sigh of longing
    For clear waters
    Hear the longing for tears
    That roll on a chick
    Relieving a starving heart
    To hear from his mind again

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    Stupid

    טפש


    אם תראו אותי הולך למולכם
    ותשימו לב שאני מניע לרגע את השפתיים
    מדבר למישהו
    דעו שרגע לפני כן חלפו מחשבה ורגש מכוערים בתוכי
    ואתם תפסתם אותי אומר לעצמי
    טפש


    If you will see me cominig ahead in the street
    And notice that i move my lips for a second
    Talking to somebody
    Know that a bit before an ugly thought and emotion erupted in me
    And you caught me say to myself
    Stupid


    * The above is the origin in Hebrew, which i wrote on 29/6/15, and submitted to my blog in Hebrew

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    Hat

    כובע


    בתוך הראש אתה חובש כובע
    כובע מלאכותי
    כובע שנחבש בך
    בסיוע שלך, בהסכמתך, בשתיקתך, באזלת ידך

    עכשיו אתה צריך להסיר אותו
    להמיס אותו
    כדי שקרני הירח תוכלנה לשזוף
    את הבצק הפנימי


    Inside your head you wear a hat
    Artificial one
    That wad hatted inside you
    With you help, by silence and consent

    Now is the time to remove this hat
    To melt it down
    So that moon's rays may light upon
    The dough of your brain


    * Jokingly I told a fellow I work with who read this piece and liked it that sometimes I think we need a
    drill, right away, to drill a hole in the skull, from above, to let some air and light inside
    Last edited by URIKORN, 4th July 2015 at 18:53.

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    Wiper

    Do you have a wiper
    To wipe my window clear
    I do not see clear
    And I want to see again

    Get your inner wiper
    Wipers are not for sale
    For this window can be wiped
    Only from inside

    You are the sole owner
    Only you have the key
    Your Castle ground is now infested
    It is up to you to make it clear

    Your longing for a wiper
    Is a good start indeed
    Keep this longing true
    Until your window will indeed be clean

    You can't demand a time to finish this Job
    You are not in a position to demand anything indeed
    Only hard honest work is a key
    To make a wiper and turn yourself to clear see

    True sight seekers do not demand any terms
    They start with the job
    And hope it will end
    Before they will end

    They feel they are honored
    For having been given such a task
    That once you start it
    You never know when it will end
    Last edited by URIKORN, 4th July 2015 at 07:02.

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    I have an opinion

    יש לי דעה


    יש לי דעה
    דעה חזקה
    ואם תשאלו אותי
    היא לא שווה פרוטה



    I have an opinion
    A strong one and fine
    And if you will ask me
    It's not worth a dime
    Last edited by URIKORN, 4th July 2015 at 21:06.

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    Precious Stones

    Every word is a precious stone
    Every word is a portal
    To and from a Creating Sun
    But you have to become the right kind of Cammel
    For this portal to recognize your DNA

    Breathe Infinity with every breath you take Uri
    And allow life to scratch you clean
    You poor vain one

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    Light Upon Light

    My waking state is sleep
    Even when I give it my best
    All to no avail
    And thus it should be
    And there is no shame in the matter

    Only when Another light
    Will rise to shine upon this light of mine
    Only then the sleeper will awake
    To harvest all the toils
    All that he invested in his sleep

    You have to learn my friend
    To stop this constant chatter in your head
    What noble force will come and visit
    This unruly house of yours
    The eagle does not seek the company of cackling hens

    The Other light, I may suspect
    Is here with me for quite a while
    But not until the two lights will merge complete
    Will real light shine within my house
    And the mole will become a Seer

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    The mole and his mother

    A young mole told his mother that he found a book that teaches how to see.
    He also said that after long practice he can see now
    His mother decided to test him. She put a a plate with Frankincense inside
    and asked him what he sees
    He said he sees a candle
    "Not only do you not see" the mother said, "you also lost your sense of smell"

    I have first read this fine teaching story in "THE SUFIS" by Idries Shah
    which, if memory serves right, is taken from Aesop
    I am telling it in my own words

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    To my sleeping mates

    When a ray of Sun lit my life 42 years ago
    I heard the sound of flute inviting me to travel
    To take a long and lightly ascending path
    Into far horizons
    And I thanked my Lord for sparing ignorance from me
    At such a young age as 22

    But note my friends
    That in my search and work and ceaseless efforts
    I know now
    That this awakening was none in essence
    Than the dreamer awakening within his dream
    While still asleep

    We are asleep
    And this is not intended as an insult
    The best of our alertness is still within
    Sleep's Kingdom
    The Man inside us
    Is waiting yet to present himself to us

    All our good efforts
    Are the ingredients of that which boils inside us
    "So let us not call ourselves "the ones who woke up
    "But rather" the ones who desire to wake up

    When the dead will die to his deadness
    He will stretch up and laugh out loud
    Oh, my God, how dead I was

    A song from "Diaries of a Dead Man"




    Double Sleep


    If you are not aware or suspect or feel that your waking state, at its best, is still within the realm of sleep, you are asleep indeed: doubly so

    Definition:
    Sleeping Man: A Stage of Being where The Reality of Life is yet denied or absent

    Question: How do you know that which you yourself says you do not really know ?
    Answer: I do not really know that which I dream about and feel is real
    The distinction between a seeker and a finder is absolute to me
    I am a seeker




    Knowledge


    When the stuff of Knowledge
    That stuff that is not included in the Periodic Table of Elements
    And never will
    Will thicken up inside us
    Filling every nook and cranny
    Leaving not forgotten sight
    We shall wake up one morning
    - be it morning, afternoon, evening or night -
    Knowing what we missed so much
    And this indeed will be fine

    We shall become bodies of Knowledge
    And in Knowledge we shall ever grow






    Words


    Every word we use
    Contains this precious Stuff
    "Every" for one
    "Word" for one
    "We" for one
    "Use" for one
    Do you catch my drift ?

    Without this Stuff
    Nothing would exist
    And our good future lies
    In turning from the products of this Stuff
    To the Stuff itself

    Yet we draw the Stuff
    From within the products of that Stuff
    So keep on talking and theorizing and speculating
    But keep your eye upon the real thing
    Which has no name and needs not one

    Feel and feel and feel
    The pregnancy inside
    Last edited by URIKORN, 4th July 2015 at 06:59. Reason: please link to source

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    I am a mole

    I am a mole
    Blind in the ground I grope
    But I was born with the dream of seeing one day
    Of breathing the Legendary Air

    For years I tried to convince myself
    That this and that were seeing, light and air
    But truth imposed upon me to despair
    And put all my delusions in the grave

    Yet my dream did not wane
    And my fire did not extinguish
    Now I give credit only to my moleness
    Only to that which is experienced indeed

    It is through the full experience
    Of my kind of blindness
    That I am encouraged to feel
    That new organs of perception will emerge

    What shall I become then
    A bird
    A fish
    Or maybe even that Creature of Legends called man ?

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