Poem: There’s No Comfort in This World



There’s no comfort in this world
says the bear to the rabbit cornered by the
fox caught in the
cross-hairs of a Remington semi-automatic

The ripe walnut spends more breaths on grief
says the rabbit without breaking a sweat

Large waters large waters large waters
says the fox licking his lips

I’ve got him!”
says the rifleman as the aneurysm starts its attack from a
blood clot in his leg

Why do fat people laugh more than skinny people?”
says the aneurysm as a laser beam from
God’s Throne stops it in its tracks

The rifleman thinks of his mother and her
deathbed wish and the tears in her eyes
and her last diary entry
and drops his gun

The fox gets distracted by a butterfly and lopes off on the
trail of a pungent odor of fresh pheasant
though it’s all in his mind

The rabbit twitches pink nose and white ears
puts paws back on earth and hops off
tail wiggling looking for lunch

The bear glances around for a second
then calls after the rabbit as it
disappears into the brush

The ice-gates of Mercy melt open in the heart of the moment
and studies his snout in the puddle rain made on the ground
before shambling off into the woods

his stomach growling

            9/24/2002 (from Through Rose Colored Glasses)

About danielabdalhayymoore

Poet, artist, collagist, publisher, hoping to save a little bit of the world through ecstatic utterance... ordered in balanced lines and unpremeditated images...
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8 Responses to Poem: There’s No Comfort in This World

  1. Omar Tufail says:

    I just want a happy ending. The thought that it might not be is enough to paralyze.

    Sometimes the world seems to curl up all around and overwhelm all senses. The curling today, you can’t help feel, is a reaction to your inaction, yesterday.

    And the lazy self just wants relief. An easy way out. An exception made. To be a leech on someone’s back.


  2. The ice-gates of Mercy melt open in the heart of the moment


  3. Omar Tufail says:

    “the heart of the moment”

    What does that mean?


  4. This one! No, This one!


  5. Omar Tufail says:

    To be still in the moment from moment to moment. But how do you achieve that in the midst of change so rapid that life seems to become just a moving blur?


  6. Here it is, dearest and most beloved Omar
    (and yes, the world IS “just a moving blur”… see stanza 3 below):


    for Sheikh Harun Faye Al-Faqir

    The day will come soon brothers and sisters for us to decide
    If we’re on the bus to the end of the line or just for the ride

    Volcanoes erupt acres of forest get engulfed in fires
    But the bus goes through it and nothing even singes the tires

    The world swerves from side to side until all’s a blur
    But this bus is pure of focus as if fixed on a star

    You could say the sides and top are made of God’s pure Light
    And that all that holds it together is God’s great Might

    That shadows come and go inside while we are present
    Learning with every breath we take the deepest lesson

    The windows flash and the sights of the world fade away
    But the goal ahead becomes brighter and stronger every day

    The map’s been given us from the very first dawn of creation
    Before this bus even began to leave the station

    Adam alayhi salaam’s light showed the true direction
    Made all the stronger after his personal insurrection

    Because then Allah sent the Mohammedan messengers one by one
    Knowing we need their light as much as we need the sun

    Or else the bus would puff up in pride and go off a cliff
    Or become instead a frozen solid hieroglyph

    It races on past moments of history too harrowing to tell
    Of wars whose every life lost is a tolling bell

    But the most important thing about this bus is the one who drives
    making the difference between success or failure in each of our lives

    The very one in the driver’s seat is at the head of the bus
    Which may not be the place for any one of us

    The knowledge the driver has is superior in every way
    Though sparks of our understanding allow us to know what they say

    The heart of the driver at the wheel is a veiled mystery
    Though they are unveiled before their Lord’s loving Mercy

    Knowing alone what each of us needs as we sit in our seat
    Freeing us from our heart’s losing cycles of repeat and repeat

    Since we are the bus itself we can’t just be along for the ride
    And what happens to the bus happens to us both outside and inside

    The driver’s lineage goes back from wise driver to driver
    And each one’s a sure example of someone who’s arrived there

    In God’s gracious dimensions of mysteries and their solutions revealed
    Which takes our battered hearts and souls and returns them healed

    Starting from the Master of Drivers the Prophet Muhammad
    Peace and blessings forever be upon his heart and head

    It’s Ahmad’s direction we take by the loving hand of a living guide
    Who’s firm on the wheel and knows what’s going on inside

    Which is always the same The Radiant Glory and Might of Allah
    Who loves us more than we know and that’s His Truest Law

    And the drivers have learned in God’s School of Love to follow His map
    To lift us out of every despair and mortal trap

    Worshipping Him alone at the end and beginning of each trip
    And all along to give us His most generous Wine to sip

    Constant remembrance of Him being the gas that keeps us going
    Whether the sun is scorching us or the heavens are snowing

    Dear God wherever we sit on the bus it’s You alone
    Who’ll take us over every height and dip to our original home

    And love each one of its passengers wild or fast asleep
    For each of us is all of them and our secrets keep

    The future’s clear and the past is disappearing way behind us
    As we head through the night on this single divinely inspired bus

    To the single Light at the heart of every living soul
    Which is both the route we take and our Ultimate Goal

    So bless each one of us and bless the drivers who continue to teach
    What up ahead would otherwise be simply out of reach

    And at the whirring sound on the road of the bus’s revolving tires
    Light in our hearts the cooling wisdom of Your Holy Fires

    The seats are filled and yet there’s infinite room for more
    So bless this humble song of transit by a slave named Moore


  7. Omar Tufail says:

    I need to get on. Can you budge over, I’m trying to climb in through the window. But I’m stuck. Half in, half out. Someone, give me a good kick…


  8. ghada says:

    Dear mr.Moore Itgives me pleasure to study your poetry.Im aPhd student.I suggest to write down alinguistic study of your poetry.Ill be grateful if you contact me to give me your suggestions.Much obliged Ghada


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