In Dutch the word for Tulips are Tulpen...
Pictured here are some evidences of Spring springing up - rising up from the dead of winter - from out in the backyard on my existential trip to nowhere from where I watch the seasons change and feed the birds.
I also had to mow the lawn today with my People Powered Mower - (no electric, no gasoline - just pushing)...
Meanwhile the laundry is hanging out on the line to dry... I hung it up myself on the line outside to dry after I washed in a machine - there is no Misses Crouch. The windows in the house are open letting in fresh air even though it really isn't warm enough for all that... No suicide skies today.
I can't help but remember familied Easter Sundays in years past - when I was a kid - before all this roadkill lifestyle of mine descended up on me. Those were happier if not more ignorant times - less alone times.
Meanwhile, this might be Ghettoville - or G-ville - but I hear a dog off in the near distance barking - not my own. Birds chirruping and some singing. Mostly I hear nothing but the gentle cool breeze which takes imagination to achieve.
Whenever some one asks me directly point blank: "Matt are you a Muslim" I suddenly fall into a K-hole of thinking and think, how in Islam, anything that is created by God is Muslim, including the person who just asked me that annoying question whether they know it or want to believe it or not. Then I get to thinking: "Am I created by God" (insert question mark) - For all I know I am a child of Shaytan in the land some Persian types refer to as the Great Shaytan - which, incidently, I agree with those Revolutionary old men. Well, I believe in God - like in Arabic - Allah Almighty Akbar - Allah is Greater. But God is God and he has 99 names in Islam and quite a few other as well in other monotheistic religions of which there are the Big Three - Abrahamaic Monotheism Versions 1.o, 2.o and 3.o and probably all the sub categories of the .1 and .5's plus myriad in between, but who is counting? Who cares if you pray sitting down, standing up, bent over or all three combined, 0r even, who cares if you don't pray at all...
It ain't, nor should it be, anybody's business if you do... or dont.
Is the point - if after I'm gone, as in dead and gone and some one wakes me up then asks me about what I believe, or believed and whatever I achieved, or didn't achieve - or thought and felt, or tried to do - good or bad - I mean, if that were to happen, as I believe it will, or hope it will, (because this life does not feel like enough!) - Not because I want to Believe but because it was chosen for me, long before there was a "me" or and "I" or a tooth for a tooth... I know what I believe - I know what I am running from and running to and how I seem to, statistically speaking, run back and forth.
I think the bearded Prophets of Old are cool - especially the ones you see on the streets and satellite TV of today. I really do want to visit Makkah under Arabian skies. I want to spend more time in Arab North Africa as well - anywhere within earshot of the call to prayer from the Minaret - before dawn or before sunset and all the times in between - but, no, I am not very good at what I believe or practice or disbelieve in but I try to keep it all to myself. Neither do I see myself travelling anytime soon - But I practice being optimistic about that. I need to travel - back to Arabia - which is like simultaneously time travelling to a dusty past and an inter-galactic New Las Vegas of a future when you land in that DBX - Dubai airport!
The Universe is very big.
I often times find myself remembering Yemen. The rooftops in Sana'a, Yemen are magical - they are divine and meditative places above the cachophony of a crazy modern and ancient Southern Arabian city of the Prophets of old. It really is the mystical Arabia Felix. Back there to this day in old Sana'a women glide along dressed in Ninja black... Those images of dark fabric dignity and mysterious eyes of silence and grace. I keep having this compelling image haunt me - specifically also of me laying on my back on a roof in some city such as old Sana'a with such a woman - a sister-wife in the religious sense - who like me - enjoys kicking back and watching the nighttime stars turn by on their big wheel. Holding hands in silence watching the stars in the sky - not side by side in some separate chairs getting fat together watching the stars on TV - but laying back on the roof, holding hands in silence - content with watching the stars glide by on a warm Arabia night breeze.
That dream is replete with al shay (the tea) with cardamon and sugar setting out in little cups and a metal tea pot.
Jellaladin Rumi translated by Coleman Barks, in the book, the Essential Rumi taught me a lot - that led me to read and re-read a mod translation of the Majestic Qur'an with the calligraphic Arabic and English side by side - I want to visit the Kingdom of Humanity - the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. Are there any other questions and does any of this really matter in some Western styled pointed confrontation: Yes my past and present life contradict me but this is the Soul bound by the mortal coil that I am wrapped up in and all I know as me that gets called Matt or sometimes when I am really lucky, Mustafa. I really do want to travel more but essentially I just want off this planet.
On a side note, I sincerely wish Barack Obama and his family and the Administration of the White House at present would have inherited a much better National condition - all of non-white America deserved better - legal or illegal - We the People deserved not the discarded carcass of a gaggle of nasty blue eyed Zionist Corporatist Vampires of Capitalism - All of Us in G-ville have Hope and desperately want a form of Change we can believe in - one that will include all Gods children.
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