Sufi in the West


12316649_10101668367610303_8009156524300307876_n.jpg

Album #2 coming this January. The legend of the eastern son continues. 📷 by Hana Maatouk. Salute to “Kustom Sounds” studio.

Stream “Rise of the Eastern Son” the full album by clicking here.

KRIKOS – Rise of the Eastern Son LP


ignorance


the illusion of prosperity is caused by man’s inability to rely on and sustain himself without the desire to be worshiped by others.

happiness


this life is about doing what you want to make you happy.

Fate


Sometimes you just have to have faith that the path you are on is the right path and keep pushing.

DUES


Who is this looking at me so ludicrous,

My mind is a jungle and my eyes uterus,

Birth a new vision yall can see truth exist,

Earn a few wishes I can be humorous,

Funny kind of humor but I be serious,

At times I see through hooligans,

Let me tell you dudes what I do to present this,

I write my own but I got dues to the bestest.

The Infidel


There you go, once again, rushing off to make a blunder,

Only if you knew, anything at all.

No, you’d rather steer close to religion,

That’ll do you well, you mindless Neanderthal.

And yet it is I who feels this fluster,

Though it is they who haven’t a wonder,

Of truth and this and that and this,

A Holy Book remains amiss,

Not I, the wicked sinner,

I’ve got my own judge to contemplate,

He’d call me a winner.

So do not be so kind now,

I see the trick of your trade,

Keep your God-forsaken charity,

I won’t be caught in your charade,

Just yesterday you spent away

the commerce you had earned,

On all the vanities and vices

you swore would have me burned!

White Feathers


Your veil makes you that much more,

Attractive to my inner yearnings,

Oh how I wish that I could be,

Underneath that cotton surface

covering your head, tracing along your hair,

Down your arched spine.

I see you in my dreams,

Lying on the softness of my bed sheets,

Your olive skin against them,

Drowning in a pool of white feathers;

They fall from my pillowcases,

Into the nakedness between your thighs.

Hypocrisy


I debated posting this poem for a very long time. The reason is because I felt it was very harsh. I felt it would give off the wrong message and that it would confuse people about what I believe. But after consulting a few of my friends who encouraged me to post it, I went ahead and did. This poem is dedicated to Omar Khayyam, a great Persian polymath, philosopher, and poet. Below is a painting of him sipping wine, something he wrote about and truly enjoyed doing.

Who appointed you as holy arbiter,
You foolish men who lie on oath,
Preaching of God and all His glory,
I pray He make you choke!

All your words and false messages,
They only but show your truest color,
Only God is great, Only God is perfect,
There is no room for any other.

Go to church and bow on your knees,
And pray that a better you is born,
By day you will have cured a disease,
By night you will have turned to porn.

I’ll drink my wine and alcohol,
I’ll dance and sing and laugh and crawl,
Drunk off my ass, but always sincere,
For I, like Adam, took the fall.