mountain of skulls

By: alexanderlewin

Jul 18 2015

Tags: , , , ,

Category: Drawing, Painting, Poetry, Rumi, Sufism

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mountain of skulls

The Wood and the Flames, Still Talking

No more wine for me.
I am past delighting in the thick red and the clear white.
I am thirsty for my own blood as it moves into a field of action.

Draw the keenest blade you have and strike,
until the head circles around the body.

Make a mountain of skulls like that.
Split me apart.

Do not stop at the mouth.
Do not listen to anything I say.
I must enter the center of the fire.

Fire is my child,
but I must be consumed and become fire.

Why is there crackling and smoke?
Because the wood and the flames are still talking.

You are too dense. Go away.

You are too wavering. I have solid form.

In the blackness those two friends keep arguing.
Like a wanderer with no face.
Like the most powerful bird in existence
sitting on its perch, refusing to move.

What can I say to someone so curled up with wanting,
so constricted in his love.

Break your pitcher against a rock.
We do not need it any longer
to haul pieces of the ocean around.

We must drown, away from heroism,
and descriptions of heroism.

Like a pure spirit lying down,
pulling its body over it like a bride
her husband for a cover to keep her warm.

Jelaluddin Rumi (1207-1273)
tr.Coleman Barks
from Rumi: The Big Red Book
HarperCollins 2010



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