PSALM CHAPTER 1 - 6

PSALM 1

1 The blessings of the man who does
Not walk in the counsel that was
Of the ungodly, nor stand in
The path of sinners in their sin,
Nor sit down on the judgement seat
Of the scornful in their retreat,
2 Are that in YHWH’s law’s his delight,
To murmur His law day and night.
The sons of David in appointment
Who have partaken of anointment
Act only on instruction of
Allahumma Huu from above
And keep themselves from men of sin.
That’s why they hold such blessings in
Their seat, the throne of David won.
Mahdi’s the last of that line done.
The first step here to blessedness
Is to know him and his address,
And yet he wanders without home
Upon the earth, its sand and loam,
And hardly any recognize
His passing under this disguise.
He grants the barakat (blessing) to come
In the steps following in sum,
But only on the chosen few
Who purify themselves in view
Of Allahumma whose name’s HUU.

“The blessings of the man” echoes the last
Word of the Torah, where the word is passed
But once, and promises the path of joy,
The mystic path the Divine Guides enjoy,
Expressed in seven steps in this first book,
And then repeated everywhere you look.
Beloved, grant me the blessings of the man,
The hidden ruler of the earth who can
Alone dispense a just verdict and truth,
Who sits on David’s throne beneath his booth.
Grant me the hidden guidance of his hand
Who walks unseen, unheard about the land.
Beloved, the blessedness of David’s law
Fills me now and forever with Your awe.

Ashrei ha-ish, the blessings of the man
Abound from the Torah as far as can
Be seen the lovely rays of Your fine fires,
Beloved, to satisfy human desires.
While men and angels strive for blessedness,
And all the ranks of beings still confess
The universe fraught with a changing will,
The blessings of Your appointment go still
Upon Your chosen man to grace the load
Of Torah’s promise and its duties flowed.
Beloved, I seek the blessings of the one
Whom You have sent and shall send when You’re done,
And find the waiting by the rain and sun
In no departure from the battle won.

Asher lo halakh, who deigns not to walk
Giving by his behaviour and his talk
The evidence of that blessing that You,
Beloved, bestowed upon the humble few.
Let me not walk, Beloved, in paths set out
By false messiahs where Your word’s in doubt,
And where the simple knowledge of Your law
Is set at naught, Your name not held in awe.
The walking of the man that You have sent
Is a straight walking among pages bent,
And given to run in splendid groves not yet
Appearing where the desert hours are set.
I find, Beloved, the footprints in the sand
Where one refused to walk with evil band.

Ba’atsat resha’im, in counsel of
The wicked ones, the ones whose fatal glove
Is stained with what men’s hands should never wear:
The blood of friend and foe upon the stair
Of pilgrimage. For every step I take
Is in the pilgrimage set for my sake.
I walk in no counsel given by the fair,
Nor in the false wisdom that such would share,
But take to paths of violets and cane,
And leave the fevered competition vain.
Beloved, let me avoid the fool’s advice
To wear button and buckle he thinks nice,
But while the advertising still runs on
I find Your sage instructions in the dawn.

Uvderekh khatta-im, and in the path
Of sinners, ah Beloved, I flee that wrath.
The way of those who fail to meet the mark
That You set up already in the park
And gave to Adam and his sons to do,
And showed to Enoch and to Noah’s few,
And finally to Abraham and Moses,
I seek instead that road paved since You chose us.
Beloved, the sinners’ way is all around,
I see it set in law and practice found
Among both priest and worker, in the bound
Of legislator, judge and wealthy man.
I see the sinners’ way as far as can
Be seen the human truck under the ban.

This sign speaks of Mahdi’s delight
In Allah’s law and in the sight
Of Sinai’s falling and the sound
Of divine voice shaking the ground.
The law is ten commandments found
As Furqan given to Moses’ hand.
It stands in Baqarat to see:
“You ought to give thanks, 53 and when We
Gave Moses Scripture and the great
Criterion (of love and hate
And right and wrong, the bright Furqan)
So you might be led to the dawn.”
It’s also four books set to stand
In mercy and grace in the land.
Therefore Hajji Bektash once wrote
In Makaalaat those four of note,
Tawrat, Zabur, Injil, Furqan,
That is, Bible and the Qur’an.
Recite that law, recite those books
Once in the day, once in the nooks
Of the night-time, and still recite
Them always by day and by night.
Murmur in meditative light,
Sing aloud in the beauty where
The tent of David meets the air.
Recite the ten commandments so,
In syllables that gleam and glow
From Exodus twenty to show:

“1 Then Ælohim spoke all these things
2 I am YHWH Ælohim whose wings
Brought you from Egypt and slavery.
3 You shall have no gods except Me.

4 No graven image shall you make,
Nor heavenly likeness shall you take,
Nor from the earth beneath nor from
The waters under earth in sum.

5 Before them you shall not prostrate,
Nor shall you worship them in state.
For I YHWH am your Ælohim,
A jealous husband it may seem
Who limits evil on the score
Of generations to not more
Than three or four, what parents do
Affecting children's children too,
By the hate that they bear to Me.
6 But multiplying wonderfully
To thousands of their generations
Effects of any cultivations
Of good they might do who love Me
And keep My statutes faithfully.

7 Do not lift up the name of YHWH
Your Ælohim in vain, for who
Does so shall surely not receive
Acquittal from YHWH and reprieve.

8 Remember now the Sabbath day
To keep it holy every way.

9 Six days work and do all your tasks,
10 But seventh day's a rest that asks
YHWH your Ælohim to keep well,
Do no work in it, buy or sell.

In it you shall not work nor labour,
You, son nor daughter, nor the neighbour
Man nor the maid in your employ.
Let even animals take joy,
And every visitor that's strayed
Your gates. 11 For in six days YHWH made
The pair of skies and earth and stayed
To make the sea and what's in it.

Then He lighted on seventh day
To take comfort in it as fit,
And kneeling blessed the Sabbath day,
So did YHWH sanctifying it.

12 Give honour to your mom and dad,
So that your life may not be sad,
But long upon the ground YHWH's given,
And Ælohim for you to live in.

13 You shall not kill. 14 And you shall not
Commit adultery. 15 Do not
Steal. 16 Do not bear against your neighbour
False witness. 17 Do not covet neighbour
Of his house, do not covet his
Wife, nor his male worker, nor his
Female worker, oxen, nor his
Donkey nor anything which is
Your neighbour's property or labour.”
Hide these words day and night within
Your tongue and heart to keep from sin.

If Ali does delight in Your bright law
That shone from Sinai where all stood in awe,
Let me too, my Beloved, have no god but
You only, let from me no image shut
Your holy name from my sight and heart but
Give me grace and forgiveness so to live
And recognize Your sovereign will to be
Enthroned upon Sabbath’s eternity.
May I honour parents, avoid the sword,
Adultery, theft, and the lying poured
So often on the court of justice where
The covetous encounter for their share
Of power and wealth. Beloved, I seek Your word
By which alone I shall be always stirred.

3 And he indeed, he shall be like
A tree planted beside the dyke
Of rivers’ water, that makes ripe
Its fruit in its season, whose leaf
Also shall not wither nor stripe,
What he does shall not come to grief.
This third step on the way to grace
Is to rest here before my face
To eat the blessèd fruit that spills
From Ramadhan which only fills
The hunger of the soul, to take
The healing leaves for Allah’s sake.
Mahdi’s a tree that’s planted on
Underground rivers that the dawn
Does not discover, while the sand
Of desert seems to cover land.
Though he’s a tree that is unseen,
The hidden friends that still are keen
To purify the life and soul
May see the tree and reach the goal.
I eat the bidden fruit, its taste
Is sweet, my fasting without waste
Fills me better than any meat!
I taste and faint in pleasure’s treat.
The tree of life, ‘ets-hahayim,
Contains the letters that would seem
To make the hidden names appear,
The twelve names sacred to my fear
And set the very name of God
Within the berry, seed and pod.

Beloved, I thank You for the blessings of
The Guide who takes his guidance from above,
I seek that secret guidance and avoid
The scornful joy of bishopric and Freud.
I join my voice with his to sing Your law,
The flickerings of love that Moses saw
Beyond the thunderous trumpets on the mount.
Beloved, I thank You for the desert fount
Beneath the sands, a hidden cup of wine
That nourishes the root, the leaf and vine.
Let me, Belovèd, follow that true Guide
To where the fields of Kauthar open wide,
To stand upon divine, eternal way,
Still cantillating Your name night and day.

The tree of life has in its name the sign,
Initial letters naming the divine
Guides to flow to the end of all the earth
In the sweet waters full of life and worth.
The four streams from its head in secret flow
Throughout the world wherever my steps go
Until at last I meet the tree of life
Within the city at the end of strife.
Beloved, those waters that feed mystic fruit
By hidden channels in the sand and root
Are life to me who chants Your sacred names
And kisses those names that greening tree frames,
From Ali and Sadik the word for tree,
And from the word for life the other three.

4 The ungodly, they are not so,
But are like chaff as the winds blow.
The fourth step is to know the truth
That all the world and without ruth
Stands against Mahdi and his Lord,
But he’s the one who holds His sword,
And they, despite the pleasant view
Of success in all that they do,
Shall fly away and disappear
Before Allah’s wrath, in His fear.
So do not envy the grand scheme
Of palaces and powers that seem,
But trust in his unseen hand now
And you will conquer anyhow.

The verdicts of those who set up their ways
By people’s will or by the interplays
Of scholarship and knowledge taught and won
Are merely breaths of wind beneath the sun
That steadily reveals life, light and power.
The chaff is blown away within the hour.
The verdicts of all leaders but the chosen
Are lifeless, caught in grief, hewn, cut and frozen,
And make obedience an idol’s reign.
The blessings of the grand are given in vain.
Beloved, make me discern the chaff and wheat,
Reject the empty husk and eat the sweet.
The daily bread and cup revealed in song
Divide the breath and show the right and wrong.

5 Therefore ungodly shall not stand
In judgement, nor sinners in band
Of the righteous ones by command.
Though it seems now the wicked rule
And make the laws, each one’s a fool
And shall find punishment at last
When judgement breaks forth with a blast
Of trumpet. Yet the righteous folk
Stand weekly in the judgement’s yoke
As at the start of Sabbath Day
After the noon prayers and the sway
Of ‘Asr prayer, they find their way
Reciting Scripture in the ray
Of weekly judgement purifying
Souls to make them at last undying.
I stand upon the judgement floor,
The gallows meet me at the door,
I am a lamb, I am a goat,
I pour the blood out of my throat,
I crush the self that in me lies,
I flee to one Self that relies
On Him alone who’s all in all,
The glory of the inner hall
Where neither forms to vision wait
And disappear hunger and plate.

The first of forty steps to Your regard,
This Psalm gives out the hidden and the starred
And famous secret that the rabble seeks.
If any such knew it, they’d lie for weeks
Upon the windy threshing floor in faint.
What is the Bektashi secret in paint
So large as not to be mistaken here?
It is that You are one and only dear,
All else is blown away in emptiness.
As my first step I come here to confess
That You alone are hidden at the root,
The stream of life that gives my branches fruit.
Beloved, I take on tongue the sweetened sip,
Proclaiming You are one and near to lip.

6 For YHWH knows well the righteous way,
But the ungodly’s path’s astray.
Eternal life in paradise
Is something everyone thinks nice,
And yet it does not come by trying
Or even by evil defying,
But by the knowledge of our God
Who knows the righteous way on sod
And in eternal knowing grows
Undying being in repose.
But acts outside the divine will
Expressed in His commandments still
Are void and disappear at last
When this life on the earth has passed.

Beloved, Your gracious name of YHWH returns
In this Psalm twice: once for the law that burns
And once for the reality of knowing.
There is no flight of spirit to be showing,
No mantra, no, nor breath beside that given
Which is the law divine I have to live in.
Twice daily, day and night, I shall recite
The Decalogue in glowing words and bright.
And thus I shall keep on the only path
That escapes vanity and empty wrath.
Beloved, I seek the secret of the way
That only is known by Your sceptre’s sway,
Turn from the wind-blown husks that fill the air
Of what is called religion everywhere.

PSALM 2

1 Why do the nations rage, why do
The Leummim murmur vain untrue?
The ways of all religions on the earth
Are ragings of the nations in their berth.
Their worship and their counsel is untrue,
So do not give yourself to them as due.
Reside in what official cult may take
The sceptre temporal and of it make
A public force to govern one and all,
But keep the soul aloof from every call
Of rabbi, mullah, priest and Sufi sheikh.
The truth is not in visible relief,
Nor in the proclamations of belief,
But in stillness of Mahdi’s unseen rule,
And in submission to his given school.

Though You may sit in silent rage and wake
To see what happens for the earth’s sweet sake,
I hear no voice of raving from Your throne
While I seek justice on the race alone.
Only the nations rage who have no right
To spoil the world with claw and glaring fight,
Only the peoples murmur at their due
Forgetting You, forgetting what is true.
Beloved, the rage of powerful and sound
Of the oppressed and weak upon the ground
Alike fall with the sea-waves on the sand
Forgetful of Your law and sacred band.
I seek the silence of Your rage and still
White judgement of Your shining fortress hill.

The contemplation of Your sacred law,
Beloved, is known to Ali, but the straw
Of rage and vanity are contemplation
Of peoples in the earthly, evil nation.
Before two ways I do not linger long,
Before two contemplations, know my song,
And follow in the path of hidden streams
Instead of on the pounding waves of dreams.
Beloved, the bands once cast away I find
And kiss the bruised stems of the jewelled vined,
And take their scented yoke on heart and hand
To plough in whirling dance the desert sand
Till rage of meditation sinks away
Into eternal gulfment of the day.

2 The kings of the earth set themselves,
And take counsel rulers like elves,
Against YHWH and against His chosen,
Left in the worldly cold and frozen.
See how these rulers that now smile
And make their policies of guile
Shut Mahdi from his hearth and home a while.
All the establishment of faith sets up
To take the power like raging beast and tup
To support kings and presidents and those
Who rule from companies and boardroom rows.
All visible establishment now gives
Allegiance to usurper and still lives.
But such faith is a false one to oppose
Allahumma Huu and Mahdi He chose.
“Listen to me and no one else and I
Will give You truth, love, awareness and sky.”

Four hidden ones still live and still are true,
In secret counsel guiding what I do,
And ruling over kings and history.
Anointed and above the sword’s fell reach,
They meddle in states with calm dignity
Practising justice that the others preach.
The truth upon the scaffold, error’s throne,
Are just the painted skin and not the bone.
Enoch still preaches to the prophets’ own,
Elijah still attends the Sabbath meal,
And Jesus lobbies yet to cut a deal,
While the hooves of the Mahdi’s steed still thunder
Upon a world that may or may not wonder.
Truth may be word debated, but I’m real.

3 “Let’s break their bonds asunder and
Betake their cords from us in band.”
Muhammad Al-Mahdi gives the decree:
“The counsel of all faiths that stand to see
Is to disobey God as well as me.”

The call of false faith in the heathen path
Sounds ever and alluring, though Your wrath
Marks out the higher way. The aftermath
Of breaking laws and statutes as the way
To freedom and by sacrifice to slay
Vicarious sons for the blood of day
Is sudden spoiling of the golden dome,
And ruin to the sacred hearth and home.
Beloved, I call the wreaths of lilies and
Roses in sweet concord to make a band
About my heart and breath, about my feet
As I turn from the thoroughfare and street
To find the donkey’s yoke in winding mill,
Your bag upon my maw I find my fill.

4 He who sits in the heavens shall laugh,
YHWH holds them in derision’s staff.
But God shall have the last laugh in their case
As He said once and to a noble race
In Suratul Baqara’s place:
14 And when they meet believers, say
“We too believe,” but on the day
They’re with their satans, then they say
“We were just joking all the way.”
15 So Allah makes of them a joke
And lets them wander like blind folk
In their wrong-doing. 16 These are they
Who bought instead of guidance error,
Such purchase profits not but terror,
And so such ones have lost the way.
Tenth step in way to grace is found
In laughing in heart without sound
At fate of those praised and renowned.

You sit, Beloved, in heaven, while I
Stand here on earth, or then else lie.
You laugh, not in mirth, but in scorn,
While I find ever since I’m born
The humour of the universe
From playpen and the caring nurse
To the light of the death-bed’s curse.
You sit in scorn, and steal the chair
Of which the first psalm warned the fair.
I stand in laughter as I see
Your hand create eternity.
Beloved, Your judgement’s just alone,
For that Your chair becomes a throne.

5 Then he shall speak to them in din
Of His wrath, and distress them in
His deep displeasure for their sin:
God speaks to wicked ones but leaves
The righteous in silence and sleeves,
Always calls evil men to grace
And penitence before His face.
But mercy is a raging fire
To those who stand in sin’s desire,
While it destroys in righteous men
The self and makes them live again
In Allah’s heart and in His ken.

Beloved, You always speak to sinful men
And warn them of Your judgement once again,
But never do You whisper to the right
And true and good a warning of their plight.
That shows that Your perspective is not ours
Who sit beneath the sun and dew and showers,
But is the view of judge of righteousness,
Creator of the universal mess.
At least You speak, Beloved, in wrath and not
In mercy to the wicked ones in lot.
At least Your words distress the sinful heart,
Even if You give no hope for the part
Of those who quietly work out Your will
In word and act by Your commandment still.

6 “On My holy hill’s fortress set
I My King whom I’ll not forget.”
The holy hill of Zion, the true hill
Is hidden where the Mahdi comes to fill,
For he now reigns as the king that God chose
To guide in secret both the righteous rows
And unseen temper every evil hand
That’s raised upon the earth as in command.

The fortress or Zion is really not
Much of a hill by any mountain plot.
It’s more a slight ravine upon the east
And hardly any slope at all increased
Upon the westward flight. The gates are old
And have been rebuilt many times and sold.
And yet You claim to set a king as bold
And permanent upon that rugged spot.
Set rather in my heart Your king and own
The ground where footprints of my life atone
Or not the days and nights that struggle where
Your holy hill remains among the fair.
Beloved, I find a throne not seen or known,
And yet its beams and cornices are there.

7 “I’ll declare the decree: YHWH’s said
To me, ‘You’re my son-servant led,
Today I have both brought you forth,
Anointed, set as son of worth.
As every son of David’s called
God’s son, though God would be appalled
That any think He bore a son
Or had a consort bought or won,
So Mahdi’s also servant of
Allah and Master set above
All His creation till he come
With Jesus Christ to reign in sum.

In order to divide the truth and cling
To veils of the illusion humans sing
Antiphonies of son and servant while
You stand above the choir, derisive smile
And wait a moment before tapping on
The music stand with the divine baton.
The word by which You speak the universe
Into existence is both son and worse
A servant, yet You have no wife to bear
Your child nor bill of sale or purchase fair
To show You are the slave-master of any.
So all are right and all are wrong as many.
Set Your word brought forth before time was made
On son and servant, generate or paid.

8 Ask of me, and I will give nations
Inheritance, and terminations
Of the earth and for your own rations.
God tells Mahdi to ask and He
Will give him sway on all the fee
Of nations. So he asks to take
The helm for all the righteous’ sake,
And curtail the evil they plan
Who think they rule the world in span.
If he were not there, to a man
These rogues would destroy all the earth
With deadly weapons built in dearth.

Your king, Messiah, and appointed one,
Your servant bought, and generated son
Is he who must ask for the ration won,
The heritage of earth and battles done.
I am not such in plot, and so I ask
Not for the earthly shot or worldly task,
But rather for the wealth of heaven’s store,
The privilege and horror of the door
That opens on the brightness of Your throne
Set outside time and space for You alone.
Beloved, I seek the heritage allowed
To dervish dog thrust out of every crowd
To eat the scraps of love discarded by
The faithful and religious and the sly.

9 You shall break them by stratagem
With iron rod, you shall dash them
To pieces like a potter’s gem.’”
They do not know what he’s in store
For them when he comes at the door
Of the Kaaba to call his own
Who faithfully bow at the throne
Of Allahumma Huu and groan
In sorrow for oppression’s gale.
He’ll shatter them and never fail.

Beloved, You chose David to reign instead
Of wicked Saul, as those before who led
And those who came age after age to guide
The innocent and peaceful where to hide.
Who plot against Your chosen one are those
Who also plot against You though heaven knows
Lip service to Your majesty is rife
In every mosque and synagogue for life.
I do not say church too for they would make
Your servant be a Son, heathen mistake.
Though I am neither son, nor judge nor king,
I press towards wisdom despite its sting.
Beloved, I have not powers to serve You, yet
My gift for love to You is firm and set.

10 Now therefore, be wise, O you kings,
Be instructed, you earth’s judgelings.
Allah and the father David,
Father of Muhammad who hid,
Speaks to priest, mullah to forbid,
And to the rabbi, to be wise
And take instruction from the skies
That comes in David’s hand and pen
And voice resounding once again
As Mahdi takes up his dad’s tale
To show the world God does not fail.

There are indeed kings of the earth,
Not of Your choosing for their worth,
But there to prove that men unsound
Are faithless where they take up ground.
You speak to them and give them warning,
Command them to be wise at morning,
And educated before night,
So that they might judge earth aright.
Beloved, I take Your words to heart,
And know that I am one apart,
Who has no kingdom but myself,
And even that is beyond elf
To rule, and so I give up all
To Your control, a dog in stall.

11 Serve HUU alone with fear and kiss
His feet with trembling, do not miss.
The Qur’an says God has a foot,
But that’s no human place to put.
To kiss His feet is to submit
In love to His will and to sit
Humbly within His law and take
His will alone and not to stake
Fear in what other people say
Or how they act or when they pray.
Who pray to Allah only stay
With trembling before Him, that way
They meet grace quickly without pay.

I kiss the son of David’s throne and give
Him honour while I stay to breathe and live.
I put my trust in him whom You set on
The throne to rule the darkness and the dawn.
May his hand behind what things seem to be
Guide always to the blessed reality,
In either mercy or in wrath as he
Best knows who wields the sceptre on the tree.
Tremble in fear or kiss, it is but one
When all is set to rights and justice done.
I look for justice only, not attraction
To charismatic flights in the distraction.
Beloved, David alone has right to be
A charismatic figure to the free.

12 Lest He be angry, and you pass
Away upon the road’s morass,
When His wrath’s kindled but a jot.
Blessed all who confide in His plot.
God’s wrath falls on all who confide
In church and synagogue, abide
In mosques thinking God does not see
Their sinful plans and ways to be.
But those who trust in Him alone
Instead of sacrificial bone
Find blessing, bread and not a stone.

I kiss the son on David’s throne and give
Acknowledgement that words arise and live,
And move from feet to sons within the sieve
Of language change from ancient Hebrew to
The Aramaic of the few and true.
I kiss both feet and son, and take the slave
That represents You from cradle to grave,
And pass Your wrath and his with loving glance
In confidence to whirl in sacred dance
With David in the cobbled streets and turns
Jerusalem offers the sun for burns.
Let all be angry with the way I go,
I wag my tail and whimper at the show,
Confiding in the hand I smell for earns.

PSALM 3

1 A Psalm of David by his flight
From face of Absalom, his right.
As David had to flee his kingdom when
His own son Absalom rose up again,
So the own kin of Ridha was betrayed,
And the Mahdi fled into hiding, stayed
There to rule, though never afraid.
The principle to follow is just this:
Only Allah is safe, men give the kiss.

When David gave the name Council of Peace
To his son with a hopely heart’s release,
Did he, a prophet, know he would some day
Be fleeing from his own son’s hand to slay?
Kingship’s a thing that sucks both water and
The blood from fathers and from sons in band,
A thing more precious than the mother’s breast,
More sought for than the islands of the west.
Beloved, though I am not a king or fair,
Nor wield a sceptre’s power anywhere,
I still feel that sting David was aware
Upon the loving heart. I feel and share.
Give now, Beloved, the kingship and the throne
To him who hides beneath the darkened stone.

2 HUU, how they have increased who are
A trouble to me! Many are
They who rise up against me so.
These words were written and to glow
In mind of Muhammad, who felt
The sting of persecution’s welt.
He drank the bitter cup that passed
From Jesus’ lips and could not last.
He felt the teeth in their attack
On Jeremiah’s bleeding back.
We wept for forty innocents
That martyrdom claimed without vents.
But few know what trouble he sees
As Mahdi walks unseen to please
Through city and through justice-hall
To find fatted calf in the stall.

It’s said this is the favourite psalm of
The holy prophet Muhammad whose love
Of You, Beloved, caused many to arise
Against him, to insult with flood of lies,
Force into exile and attack with army.
This psalm may well be dark and cloud and stormy
Prediction of the holy prophet’s fate,
More accurate in fact than history late
Attached to his name by inventors in
Traditions for pay. Pay them for their sin,
Beloved, and purify Your servant’s name,
And may the words of David be his fame.
I too flee to You only from a nation
That knows no love or justice in their station.

3 Many are they who wish to show
Me no help in Ælohim’s tow.
Contemplate now, my friend, how many
Alive today could give a penny
For Mahdi’s help as he works on
From light to dark, and dark to dawn,
And how few are touched by his share,
Who gamble life and pay for air.
So says Muhammad Al-Mahdi:
“Be of those who remember me,
Though unseen by the fruitful tree,
And by your just deed give a hand
To help me passing through the land.”

What were You thinking on that rainy night,
Beloved, when David fled and hid from sight
Among the howling pits, almost alone?
His own son taught the people heart of stone
Lived in that breast that beat for every man
That was oppressed. Now every oppressed clan
Turned enemy to their own truest friend.
Divinely chosen then came to an end.
Divine choice seemed to take another way,
Since all the land forsook one, and for pay,
Went to the son. The will of God be done!
But David did not fear nor doubt the One
Who was Beloved of him, no human word
Or threat could win at last. David endured.

4 But You’re, O HUU, a shield for me,
My glory, who lifts my head free.
Allah is great protection here
From magistrates that he could fear
For their purpose is to do wrong
To every faithful one along.
Allah’s shield in his case is that
He is invisible from fat,
But Allah shields also the one
Who hides his hope in him when done.
He has no glory, honour where
Human parade strikes out in fair,
But Allah is his glory too,
He lifts his head to know and do,
And in his knowing and his rule
You also can share as a tool
Submitting to Allah alone
And bowing only at His throne.

I walk the streets of Babylon and Rome
As though I sought and vainly for a home,
Without the recognition of the fair,
Without applause of any that I’m there.
There is no glory in myself to bide,
There’s only You and in Yourself I hide,
You who are glory and fame for my tide
And longing to fill at my reedbed’s bank
The sight and smell of silver grass and rank.
My rank is at the black and fertile show
Where sluggishly the Jordan waters flow.
I seek no other shield but that I know
Beneath the humble rate of Jericho,
A red cord and silence before night’s glow.

5 I cried to HUU with my voice, and
He heard me from His hale hill’s land.
Although the Mahdi cries aloud
To Allah in middle of crowd,
None hear him of the faithful nor
Any who stand within the door.
Only Allah hears that loved voice,
And for that let men all rejoice.

I cry to You, Beloved, beneath the hill
Of granite and of quartzite that now still
Is shelter and a home for me and those
Small beasts so harely, foxly in their toes
Peek at my slumber by unsleeping rill.
I cry to You, Beloved, and trust You hear
The faint prayer of the dervish dog whose gear
Is piled by chimney slated with the best
Green stone of Lapland in which I invest.
I whine at Your approach and perk my ear.
I cry to You, Beloved, with slender voice
And wait a moment for Your whispered Word,
And then go back to flitting beast and bird
Who join me as I lie down to rejoice.

6 I lay down and slept, I awoke,
For YHWH sustained me by His yoke.
Where the lovely occulted leader rests
There is no safety as of earthy nests.
He only relies on the hope of God
In hidden places where no man has trod.
Yet for his work untiring in the earth
I find amid the evil a safe berth,
And waken to the new day once to know
His presence in the field and ways I go.

The pillows of my soul are yet unseen,
From breath to breath I struggle and my lean
Life stops and whimpers, staggers on a pace,
Falls into sleep eternal but for grace.
In faith I close my eye, in faith I sleep,
Not knowing I shall wake. You stand to keep
My hovering on dreams until the hour
You will me back to life by Your own power.
No sustenance is found for human breath
Nor even for a dog’s sound above death,
Except you kiss my muzzle and return
With air and water where my nurtures burn.
I lay down and I sleep, and I awake
By You alone, and alone for Your sake.

7 I shall not fear ten thousand men
Who make siege around me again.
The hidden leader of mankind who waits
Upon the throne of David at four gates
Is crowded round about by myriads who
Would seek to do him harm in all their crew.
But no fear enters the heart of that one
Who knows God’s comfort for the things he’s done
And calmly rounds the Kaaba while the crowd
Ignores his presence as they pray aloud.

Ten thousand at poor David’s time awoke
To attack at the dawn and at a stroke.
Ten thousand more took Ahmed by surprise
As though if possible to blind his eyes.
Ten thousand men today are hardly put
Upon the battle field in army foot.
After Napoleon rushed on the sod,
Two million became standard in the pod.
Today a billion and more rise to seek
My downfall as I tread the busy week,
And hope the Sabbath brings about my death,
But I still find life in You breath to breath,
And live in Your love only as I fall
Beneath the weight of hopelessness in all.

8 Arise, O YHWH, save me, my God!
For You’ve struck all my foes with prod
Upon the cheekbone, and You break
All ungodly ones’ teeth by stake.
The sweet Christian is one who fails
To rejoice in the rod that flails
Against ungodly harms and sails,
But rather speaks of love that makes
The law of jungle for men’s sakes.
The true man of faith, woman too,
Is one who’s glad that judgement’s rue
Is cast when cast upon the crew
Of wicked men in every pew.

I look about the voting hall and see
The dark proponents of democracy
Who hope the legislature will defeat
Any bill You propose upon the sheet.
I see that all of them have still intact
Jawbone, cheekbone, and pearly white unslacked
Peering from grimace and commercial smile.
I wonder that You don’t see through their guile.
It’s time to break both tooth and jawbone now
Before the holocaust resumes the row.
Beloved, it seems You have forgotten how
To strike the foe with iron rod and break
Rebellion at the fount for goodness’ sake,
The enemy set up and burn at stake.

9 And salvation is YHWH’s alone.
Your blessing’s on Your people shown.
There is no saving but that wrought
By God alone, no Moses taught
Can save from Pharaoh, and the plot
Of hidden leader, Mahdi sought,
Is of no vantage unless caught
Up in the divine favour’s lot.

Salvation is Yours and it’s Yours alone,
That’s something I cannot help but believe.
I feel the striking to the narrow bone
And feel it often and without reprieve.
There is no help in justice staid by law,
There’s no acquittal for one’s poverty,
All forces are out to break off the jaw
Of helpless ones strong in impunity.
Salvation’s Yours alone, and always kept
Far from the ones who need it and have wept.
Your blessing’s on Your people, truly so,
And yet Your blessing’s not salvation’s glow.
Your blessing is a hidden thing, I guess,
An other-worldly staying out of mess.

PSALM 4

1 To the Chief Musician to hold
Stringed instruments, and so a bold
Psalm of David as any told.
David himself says Mr Koch
Plays only saz and like the roach
Endures for generations’ store.
I would ask God for nothing more.

Harp or guitar or violin, who knows
What’s best in view of human praise that shows
What You, Beloved, create, restore and hold
Of earth and sky in quiet, darkling gold?
The tinkling angel notes accompany
The songs of watchers on eternity,
While I print silent steps across the pale
Hoar-frosted boulders that make up the vale
Where my small laura opens to the view
Of nothing and of everything that’s true.
Beloved, meet my four strings at the four gates
That rise up where the sparked mosquito mates
And pluck one note to find if any hear
That You are One and that You have come near.

2 Hear me when I call, O God of
My righteousness! You from above
Relieved me in distress, then do
Have mercy, and hear my prayer too.
The hidden Mahdi calls alone
To the God of his righteous throne
Who only relieves such distress
On those human shoulders might press.
The Mahdi himself must cry out
For mercy, what of those about
Their evil works? They fail to pray
Asking for mercy on a day.
May I follow in Mahdi’s way
Relying on God’s mercy’s sway.

I have no righteousness, Beloved, but that
You set upon my heart and hand and mat.
The I-ness that I know is up for grabs
And ready to join in the fried rehabs.
I have no distress but the call to be
A god above all gods eternally,
And yet You hear me with grace and mercy
And touch my prayer with Your own melody.
So hear me when I call without a care
Of any hearer listening anywhere,
And fill my lack with Your own righteousness
And in You mercy bend down here to bless.
Beloved, I call in quiet, passed refrain
In notes in which there whines but little pain.

3 Then how long, O you sons of men,
Turn you my glory to shame then,
Seeking idols’ falsehood again?

With every turn of the passage to right
Men bow with burning eye into the night.
Each hopeful and prophetic rise towards truth
Takes the soul further from the earth in ruth
And further from the flood that might descend
To bring the thirsty soul out to its end.
How long shall paradise shine in the eye
Of pagan faith that covets by and by
The god-flesh instead of the warming soil
Where only life can be had by the toil
Of six days in communion with the late
Sweetness of obeying the mountain state?
I lay aside hope for the righteous man
Who wanders in the air as best he can.

4 But know that YHWH has set the good
Apart for Himself, and YHWH would
Hear when I call to Him as should.

Have You, Beloved, taken a remnant bought
From the great human crowd that ever sought
The way to peace and hope and righteousness,
And justice for the eater in address?
Take all, Beloved, both good and bad I plead.
The divine Self in me no doubt would seed
This prayer for all of humankind to wear
The benefit that is due to all life.
And yet that divine Self bows to the strife
Of freedom and sinks into silence while
The unknown path that seemed to rise a mile
Fails narrowed in the search and disappears
Unknown even to Your heart and Your ears.
I turn and turn in sorrow from the share.

5 If you become angry, don’t sin.
But meditate with your heart in
Your bed, and on your bed be still.

The evening comes, before I sleep I hear
Your lovely names within my heart and ear,
I move from waking into dreams Your voice
Resounding in the chambers where rejoice
The inner soundings where I am well dwelt.
My peace and wrath entwine where I have felt
The workings of Your spirit and Your word
Known through the crusty graven tomes that stirred
The hearts of ages past and stir my own.
Communities of faithful past atone
For that bare desert of the living earth
That fires my hurt and wrath to welcome worth.
Keep me from sin but dampen not my ire
Who burn in love to You with midnight’s fire.

6 Offer then righteous sacrifice
And let your trust in YHWH suffice.

What is the sacrifice of righteousness,
Beloved, that I bring to Your love’s address?
The flaying of the ram beside the tomb
Of Haci Küresh perhaps makes more room,
But still I look beyond the flowing blood
Of man and beast or even god or stud.
The sacrifice of righteousness, is it
To carry out commandment straight and fit?
The offering of the law, Beloved, is Yours,
Who spoke on Sinai to thousands in scores.
Beloved, I bring the righteous sacrifice
As I whirl mind and body on the slice
Of winter-covered island and lake ice
Beneath a sky’s mosaic and concise.

7 Many say “Who what good will show?”
YHWH, lift up Your countenance’ glow
Upon us and do not be slow.

Indeed there is no good but One, and how
Can any show that Good with sacred cow?
Your face, Beloved, is truly good to know,
But death waits in the balance of the show.
Lift up Your face, Beloved, and I shall see
Engulfment of my self’s eternity,
The resurrection outside time and space,
Eternal rest within Your heart and grace.
Who will show any good? I ask the task
And find only the silence of the mask.
Again I whirl, again the idol rises
To lay no hand at all upon the prizes.
The global treat is still here to be bought,
The faces turn still from the true that ought.

8 You have put gladness in my heart,
More than when their grain fields up start
And their grape juice increases part.

The corn and wine are basic human rights.
And yet You recognize that there are nights
When surpluses of food and drink are stored
And then destroyed upon the marble-floored
While twenty-five thousand children each day
Die of hunger accessing no e-bay.
You put gladness in my heart even now,
More than in the time when the field and cow
Gave to each mouth its own. And I am glad
Beneath the sun and snowflake. I have had
A heart of waiting, tranquil happiness
Amid the fields stricken with death and guess.
This more than greed and power to crush the least
Brings me up short to contemplate the beast.

9 I’ll lie down and in peace I’ll sleep,
For You alone, YHWH, my life keep.

Belovèd, now I lay me down to sleep,
Hear my prayer this night as the shadows creep
Across the islands, continents and seas.
In You I find my refuge and heart’s ease
As I turn from the shame of what men do
Who make pretence of Your faith and of You.
Keep me from idols, images, and ways
That overprint Your simple love with maze.
Let me look only to the godly one
You have established till the world is done.
Turn my unquiet anger into trust
That You deal with injustice as You must.
No stop-gap measures do to show the good,
But You alone suffice who only could.

PSALM 5

1 To the Chief Musician. With flutes. A Psalm of David.
2 Give ear now to my words, O YHWH,
Consider meditation’s dew.

My whirling steps come near the stations’ end
As I turn toward Your house and body bend,
Hand grasping at the universal good,
Distributing the barakat as should.
Yet I turn back to You and raise a cry
That You might hear my words here just as I
Listen to the great sema’ of the speech
Of David and his birds, while staghorns preach.
Consider, my Beloved, while I say hear,
And let that be Your sema’ without peer.
I am the word that proceeds from Your mouth,
And yet from that word, living north to south
As long as You will to breathe, speaks to You
And grants Your sema’ in the things I do.

3 Give heed to the voice of my cry,
My King and my God now and aye,
For I will pray to You on high.

Because You are my King and Ælohim
I pray to You in everything I deem
Precious to hand and heart, the goal of foot
Walking in a straight line then once it’s put
To earth beneath the air turns in the line
That circles world and Sabbath with the fine
Eternity of earthworm and the grate
Of humus on prostrating, balding pate.
Beloved, take heed to my cry warning You
That I’m on the collision course of true,
Whirling below the knowing and the love
To land far, far below the portals of
Your law and justice, covered with the will
Of green umbrellas shining on blue hill.

4 My voice You shall hear on the morn,
O YHWH, at morning I’ll direct
To You, and will look up, elect
And not one left alone for scorn.

Your sema’, my Beloved, the one You hear
In tinkling tones of sweetness on Your ear,
Is that one that arises when I wake
To celebrate Your name for mercy’s sake.
In one moment I become one with that
Word that You spoke by David, golden flat,
Twist in the morning light and disappear
From all creation’s senses to appear
Eternal and beloved within Your time
And place, and heart and love, and silver rhyme.
I look up, and in one brief swirl of gate
I become one with You, both soon and late,
Let fall the grape and nut, let fall the store,
Of bread and wine upon the gallows floor.

5 For You are not a God who takes
Pleasure in wickedness, nor makes
Evil stay with You for men’s sakes.

The round is closed, the footsteps now return
To the way of the first Psalm where I learn
That You know the way that I go, but spurn
The way I go in evil. So I find
That the return to You is never blind.
Pleasure there is in full in sacrifice
That whirls up from the altar where the mice
Still scurry in their praises and their known
Encirclings in sema’ about Your throne.
The round is closed, my supplications cease,
The truth’s exposed, my soul now rests in peace,
And no word even of the Psalms remains
To feed the world of pleasures and of pains.
I grasp the sun and moon and then release.

6 Boastful ones stand not in Your sight,
You hate all those who do not right.
7 You destroy those who falsehood speak,
YHWH abhors those who bloodshed seek
And the men who of deceit reek.

Beloved, the theories that describe Your being
Are far beyond my mind, hearing and seeing.
Some say that You are One and three to boot,
And others that You have no leaf or root
To know pleasure or pain in anything,
Since You are not contingent on the ring.
A third alternative hides in the shy
Unthinking views of common people’s dye,
Those with no current of theology:
That You are anthropomorphic really.
The theriomorphic concept of You fails
These days because of scientific gales.
I set these all aside to know that You
Take no pleasure in what the wicked do.

8 But as for me, I will come in
Your house to stand there without sin
In the multitude of Your grace
And in fear of You and Your face
I’ll bow down toward Your holy house.
9 Lead me, O YHWH, wherein to browse
In Your righteousness because of
My enemies who lack in love,
Make Your way straight before my face.
10 For there’s no faithfulness nor grace
In their mouth, and their inward part
Destruction is and to the heart,
Their throat is an open grave, they
Flatter with their tongue every day.
11 Pronounce them guilty, Ælohim!
Let them fall by their own esteem
In counsels, cast them out indeed
In the multitude of their greed
And transgressions, for they’ve rebelled
Against You. 12 But let all rejoice
Who put their trust in You, with voice
Let them for ever shout for joy,
Because You defend them, deploy
For them deliverance unquelled,
Let those also who love Your name
Be joyful in You for Your fame.
13 For You, O YHWH, will bless indeed
The righteous and the righteous seed,
With favour You’ll surround him as
A shield, with what defence it has.

The pre-dawn hush prevents my prayer: I stand
With face toward Your house, Beloved, the land
Still shrouded with the cloak of night, the sky
Still velvet with Your perfumes passing by,
And know Your mercy covers wood and field,
Its under-seam Your wrath that will not yield
The blessèd earth to those whose unjust deeds
Harass the poor and turn their bread to weeds.
The pre-dawn flush precipitates my prayer,
I stand with face toward Your house, the air
Is fresh in my damp beard, the quiet broken,
Again the age-old words as newly spoken
Prostrate both soul and body to the earth
Toward Your holy house before dawn’s birth.

PSALM 6

1 To the Chief Musician. With stringed instruments. On an eight-stringed harp. A Psalm of David.
2 O YHWH, do not rebuke me in
Your anger, nor chasten for sin
In Your displeasure heated. 3 Do
Have mercy upon me, O YHWH,
For I am weak, O YHWH, heal me,
For my bones are troubled greatly.
4 My soul also is sore distraught
But You, O YHWH, how long are sought?
5 Return, O YHWH, deliver me!
Oh, save me for Your great mercy!
6 In death there’s no remembrance of
You, in the grave who’ll give You love
And thanks? 7 I am weary with my
Groaning, all night I sigh and cry
Making my bed swim, drenching my
Couch with my tears. 8 My eye wastes for
My grief, and it grows old before
My enemies. 9 Depart from me,
You workers of iniquity,
For YHWH has heard my weeping’s voice
10 YHWH’s heard my supplication, YHWH
Will hear my prayer, make me rejoice.
11 Let all my enemies be true
Ashamed and greatly troubled, let
Them turn back in sudden shame met.

O my Beloved, have mercy on the weak!
For love of You I do not hurt nor seek
To harm the enemy who hates my soul.
Let You alone, Belovèd, be my goal.
Deliver me from those around who hate
And keep me safe within the earthen gate
Where there is none I’ve left at all but You
Whom none can hurt no matter what they do.
Keep me within the gate and I shall there
Remember to call on Your name and spare
No efforts to return from self to Self.
The enemy has left me on the shelf.
Alone in my dark closet I am here,
I turn to You alone and without fear.


AUTHOR: THOMAS G. MCELWAIN

Copyright © 2007 Adams & McElwain Publishers and Thomas McElwain First Published in two volumes, The Beloved and I 2005, and Led of the Beloved, 2006. Second Edition, 2010 Third and revised edition, 2012 All rights reserved. No part of this verse commentary on the sacred Scriptures may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from publisher.

To purchase the books, please go to:

http://www.lulu.com/shop/thomas-mcelwain/the-beloved-and-i-genesis-to-maccabees/paperback/product-20136835.html

http://www.lulu.com/shop/thomas-mcelwain/the-beloved-and-i-job-to-revelation/paperback/product-20050862.html