This world is not mine

This poem is a part of me, it is me. I wrote it to describe a feeling that overwhelms me much of the time.

This world is not mine

This world is not mine

What am I doing here?

For its people I weep

For their condition I grieve

I try to help

To bring them some reprieve

It is not my world

My place is not here

Whatever plane of existence

Whatever state of mind

Whatever we do

All meaning is lost

Pointless are our pursuits

When detached from the divine

States of being are obscure

Yours, ours, mine

All a hotch potch, a mess

In its very deceptiveness

Its beauty is but its tool of deception

Sickening paths upon reflection

Fears of its people transform to greed

Their beauty, superficial

Like a web a spider weaves

Enslaving, disrupting, consuming

Human beauty and its attractions

From reality, potent distractions

Tools of deception

The longing for closeness

Togetherness

Apart

There is no escape

A soul created is forever trapped

Whether this world or the hereafter

Existing upon consumption

With life's every resumption

Only leaves one assumption

Trapped in one shell or another

Only one solution to discover

Moods that come and go

As sadness and happiness flow

Taste of opposites to know

Only with God can the spirit grow

Giving us experience

Unlocking secrets within us

We grow with every pain

As it hurts and we exclaim

Oh God, help me

All else scoff when I complain

I know that you always hear me O Lord.

Reassuring me with your Mercy and Grace

And the promise to behold Your Beautiful Face

Not in this world, this is the wrong place

Allah, to You Alone I appeal

None else is genuinely real

In this world, I see little

But need met with greed

I see the pain of my fellows

I see hearts as they bleed

I see the suffering caused by our deeds

I see what shames me of my need

How I long for an escape

I think of nothingness

A delusion away from this illusion

This shifting world of pain

With its cycles

With its disdain

With me in it

With no ability to refrain

O Allah, to You Alone, I complain

I await my duties' finish

To see, if I am permitted

Bliss on the next plane

Keysar Trad ©

A poem I delivered at the Fair-Go Forum in June 07

As we confer about the fair go
Facing a barrage of abuse
Minorities blamed for all woes
Global warming, veiled oppression, our colours and hues
Political leaders bullying towards assimilation
Media toeing that racist line
Confused populous, hating, blaming, afraid
As my people face raid after raid
And dungeons, isolation
Intellectual, spiritual, some physical abuse and intimidation
You created the conditions
Causing us to flee from home to here
To man your factories
Your restaurants
And serve your beer
A new untouchable class
A society full of fear
With a limited platform for us to talk and complain
Free only to serve and cheer
A breath out of line from us
Your dogs from every column will jeer
Directed by whistles from politicians
Policies, big business and lobby groups set
How I cry and bemoan a community besieged and beset
2000 years ago you watched and fled
You acquiesced to innocents being persecuted
A society insistent on blood and crucifixion
A reflection of a history stranger than fiction
As it repeats itself today
And you wear your symbolic crucifix
To remember and reflect, but you forget
Oblivious to the persecution of a community
Struggling to gesticulate from its own crucifixion
I will not be silenced
Let your history take note
I will not die quietly
I will not be self-loathing
Nor self-defeating
I will not myself flagellate
I will stand up and speak
My complaints will be heard
Let it disturb your slumber
Awaken you from your deep sleep
I will fight for every right
Until I am victorious
And persecution is no more
Will you not join me?
We can write our history together
A brighter future
Where you and I are one
And only racism and hatred become the Other

Keysar Trad
15 June 2007