truth is - amir sulaiman lyrics
she asked, “where is the truth hidden?”
i laughed, not because she asked, but because as i’m living, i’m learning that the truth is hidden everywhere
literally everywhere
there is no place you can scour, search or visit except the truth is in it
the truth is hidden even in the question, “where is the truth hidden?”
in truth thе truth isn’t hidden
it can’t be hidden it is thе true and living
the ones that try to hide the truth try to go against me and you
said they hid it
but they didn’t
it’s not that the truth isn’t being spoken rather you may not be ready to listen
perhaps we are not ready to listen
you may be at home in my poem, if not you may just visit
and if you can’t visit perhaps you shouldn’t listen
i mean my poetry isn’t for everyone it’s not navy blue ?nakey fitted?
in fact, it’s highly acidic enough to burn through the mind of a critic why be a cynic?
when we’re moving beyond the speed of lignt there is no difference between time and distance
such i am both here and there in the same instant, for instance
i am both man and infant
both devil and angel
i am both the witness and the witnessed
both monk and misfit
i am the medicine and this sick
if you would like to know where the truth is
i wrote down the answer, which is the axes of the seven senses and i told sis’ hold this
close to your heart until you soul sits still in the summer solstice
she said “i can’t keep my soul still it’s hard to hold my focus.”
she said “i would go over my goals, but i’ve noticed that i can’t seem to focus on any real goals, i can only focus on what’s closest.”
she asked me, “how do you know what your goal is?”
and i said “i don’t
how does one save the souls of the soulless?
an eviction notice stapled to the heart of the heedless
souls left homeless
no place to reside and so they hide out and slide in the bodies of two eyed men”
so my lyricism is an exercise in exorcism
but the exoteric call it esoterrorism
i learned jihad from rumi
the sunni called me shi’a
the shi’a called me sufi
the feds ??? from what i do with a loose leaf
cause what i do with a loose leaf makes devils lose sleep
and i don’t care whose on whose deen
i follow the one who ascended the seven heavens and lands on two feet
it may be too deep
but if only by his light can you see through me
and if by his light we have sight
then where is the meaning of day and where is the meaning of night?
and i, like not to say that i’m living at night, but i’m living very late
asr, innal insana la fi khusr
rough translation, i’m a loser
i am to blot his light yet claim to follow his sunnah
the truth is
sometimes i wish i could sing
so i could mask the bitter truth with sweet melody
unfortunately, for both you and me
i only know how to speak straight
with correct diction that doesn’t allow for mistakes
she said, “but the things you make
the way you speak so whole while the beat breaks
it’s so ill, it’s so real*”
i said, “it’s so real, but i’m so fake.”
she said, “you sound so sure.”
i said, “ma, that’s the point i’m not sure!
i’m barely afloat in a sea without shore!
but if you’ve seen what i saw
you’d certainly know
certainty without flaw is often delusion and no certainty at all
but when it is certainly certanty
it is like the drunken monk
a man so on his square looking at any moment he will fall”
but he never falls
at that moment she paused
to close her eyes and begin to recite “vagabond”
and i was surprised
she had nearly memorized my whole poem
she asked, “if i am a traveler in this world then where do i find home?”
i say, “just keep your nose to the grindstone
tell your mind to never mind the unknown
this is why i rhyme that the spirit of god is in my palm
cause at the beginning there was the world
before that
there was the unheard, the unseen.”
there is nothing past but the present
there is nothing past the past, but the present
just as the moon begins with a crescent
it seems that way but in that there is a lesson
the whole moon’s always present
the whole moon’s always present
the whole moon’s always present
the whole moon’s always present
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