Something is Happening

I thought I’d Strip for my 45th Birthday

My Free Show

Visit my weblogs:

Reaching Out
The Unlettered Bard
Toodle Oo Doodles

I’m lifting the veils of ignorance for all the world to see


Hajiani Sara Sona (Brock) Barnes

The Strangled Squawk

If there’s one thing good about these thrashing harvesting times, it’s that the wheat is being separated from the chaff.

Unity must NOT be misunderstood.
Wheat will unite with wheat.
Chaff will unite with chaff.
It’s not about kith and kin.
It’s about kindred spirits…

Birds of a feather, WILL flock together…
… although it must NEVER be forgotten:

opposites do attract.

The last few of an endangered species…
That’s what they are attracted to.

So they will come by the flocks to flock for a while until the pretence becomes unendurable… that’s when they flap their wings and takeoff in the wake of a flurry in a puff of dust… and then they turn the neck to utter a strangled squawk and disappear round the bend into oblivion.
Never to return again.

And so the dross gets separated from the gold… the chaff flies away until it’s time to fall down to earth and die and decompose – like everything else, including the endangered species.

Everything must die.

It is Allah’s will the endangered species will leave the earth first.
The endangered species will not witness the end of the world.
Only the dross will.

My eldest brother tried to ‘cure’ me of being an endangered species when I was a child. He meant well. I know that. It worried him that I belonged to the ‘Bruce Lee specimen’ and Bruce Lee died young. He called me brilliant, but delicate, so what’s the use? He queried, with weighted sorrow.

Islam is the act of effectively saying – ‘So be it my Lord, thank you for letting me choose.’
We choose who we are, what we become and where we are going.
It’s amazing how – powerful – each of us really IS!

Warding off bolts of high energy machine gun fire hatred isn’t easy.
The endangered bird must continue to fly, when necessary.

angry birds 3

It’s an endangered species because it does not utter strangled squawks even, when it is dying.

That’s the difference between wheat and chaff.

Hajiani Sara Sona (Brock) Barnes

Jumbo October Fest


I thought I’d strip for my 45th year
Peep – 
I’m enjoying myself: 

Come for a free show
October 24
I, one and forty-four
I will lift and show
my style fashion show

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Invite friends and join the fun
It’s happening!

Visit the action @
The Unlettered Bard
Reaching Out

One complimenting the other,
 The Unlettered Bard wittily sums up what Reaching Out elaborates…

Drop by
the food is


@ Reaching Out

I don’t write blog posts. I write choreographed presentations.
I want you to
Spend time.
Let the music take you there and read my (voice over) narratives.

I guess I’m writing short stories without realizing it!
Why am I always the last to find out?

It’s an audio/video production

For quickies  The Unlettered Bard

Quips in rhyme
in time
wise cracks at self
in line…

Sometimes doodles rhyme

Reaching Out in mime…

Maha Sona trumpets like a herd of ten elephants
atop a mountain

energy bender:
Maha Sona
in case you wondered

These weblogs are naught but the ground I walk and stand on to address the world:

Only in spirit
shall we rise

My Shahadah
Bearing witness:
screaming the truth

Small things go a long way from up high

never faltering:



The elephant
must then
lie down and




Lifting Veils of Ignorance

Hajiani Sara Sona (Brock) Barnes

My Money Tree (Rondeau)

Hard currency


My money tree is made of gold
And always has the funds to hold
The dreams I have to make them true
With just one swipe, well maybe two,
And fits into a wallet fold.

When I was young and first enrolled,
The rush was strong but well controlled.
I always fed it well when due,
My money tree.

But somehow I became too bold,
Nice things on sale were often sold.
A deal, I thought, but deals accrue,
And so they did and made me blue,
And now I’m left to shake and scold
My money tree.

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In Another World …

On Casual Terms with Bruce Lee


What can I say to the great man who was my childhood hero?

I say ‘Os, master and beloved teacher…you were true, so I remained true.’ I would say it with the hint of a knowing, slightly foolish blush…

You pointed at the truth and the importance of excellence and high quality during my formative years, and tuned my psyche for the reception that was to come…

Let the music tell you how. Listen and read on

The tuning was done. I had to take it from there.

How and why did I figure out (with absolute certainty) that Bruce Lee was a physical demonstration of how to deal with matters of the metaphysical world?

I looked for and found the mind behind the movie-star.

With all due respect to his family, sure, I spent time ogling his spectacular sexy body and dashing good looks…

He certainly attracted me with both eyes… and a wink…


I liked the eye he winked.

It alluringly said, ‘Follow me into the dark alley. I’ll show you mine, if you’ll show me yours.’

He drew sensuously and then slapped the truth into you, mercifully, mercilessly.
You are the last dragon.

The truth never fails to look conspicuously ridiculous wrapped. Like covering poo with a hat…

For as long as I remember, I was acutely conscience and mesmerized by the metaphysical realm within me. I speedily learnt where fairytales ended and reality began. That’s where I lived during my childhood. That’s where I live today. There were no children in the neighbourhood to play with. Those at school were at best, boring.

I was Alice in Wonderland…

I began pondering the difference between aloneness and loneliness when I became aware of the metaphysical world.

Through this world Allah communicates with us via the medium of the angel Mulhim (ilham). Angels are made of Allah’s Light. It is also the same world of the Jinn. We become aware of our Shaitan Qarin Jinnee. It’s a terrifying world and yet, the most comforting. It’s indeed a magical world – you can actually change things at will – through the simple medium of decisive choice – like saying ‘be’ and it is…


A karate chop through bricks… the magic power of mind over matter.

It is a beautiful dimension in time where years of ailing heal within split seconds, and yet it still feels like you’ve been there for ages…

Learning the magic words is to learn how Allah programmed it.
Waving the wand is knowing why…

The metaphysical world also has a landscape – it is full of cemeteries of loved ones – fast asleep in their graves… Ghosts are not ghosts, but a ‘tangible,’ intangible reality of the metaphysical world…

Sometimes the inhabitants of the graves push their way through to the surface – gasping for air – make a loud statement and then vanish back into the physical world, leaving you to go – oops that must have hurt…


You view the whole scene with both eyes with sparkling clean vision.
Purity in the innocence of childhood…?

Walk stoned through the house of horror…
I loved school carnivals because of the house of horror stall.

As an adult, returning to the wonderful realm of the metaphysical world, to realize that the whole thing about life is death, isn’t easy. Preparing for the next stage – the grave. And most importantly, the consequent final stage – Judgement Day and finally the Bridge over Hellfire (Jahannam) leading to Paradise (Jannah)…

Jahannam is a carnivorous creature of Allah that consumes man and Jinn.


Is Fluffy, Allah’s watchdog?

I see the poetry: Jahannam is the smoldering  moat beneath Paradise (Jannah)…

Allah is above all creation. Allah does not dwell within creation. Allah is self-sufficient. Jannah and Jahannam are creations wherein creation must eternally reside in another dimension of space and time.

Allah is beyond creature comprehension – simply because only Allah is not created.

To those seeking comprehension of this, I say be realistic and know where to get off, lest you invite insanity, pondering what cannot be pondered. We do not possess the fundamental capacity to ponder it, because we don’t have the all important component of being not-created. You will never have that proof of evidence. Allah will reveal Himself to you, and yet remain forever veiled before mesmerized, swooning eyes…

Is Paradise really paradise and the Hellfire actually hell?
Is Hellfire the only answer to those who wanted Allah unveiled?
Is Paradise for those who are content with secondary evidence and therefore nearer to the Truth – Al-Haq – Allah?

Is it hell to know, or not know?

Is ignorance bliss?

images (3)

I dive into deep, dark waters illuminated by the Light of Allah… But wait a minute… what’s talk about God doing in a Bruce Lee story…?

All point to the moon to view the heavenly glory, isn’t it?

What does it mean?

The lessons are varied and numerous. Take the metaphor in viewing the light of the sun through the moon (secondary evidence).

You can only view God through both eyes, and that too from behind a veil.

What is Islamic Spirituality (Ihsan)?

Islam is a religion (way) of pointing – of uniting and facing one direction and then pointing together at the declaration of the oneness of God…

It is to perceive Allah as if you see Allah, although you do not see Allah, with the knowledge that Allah sees you.
So rise up through excellence.


Bruce Lee – Unleash The Last Dragon

Join Bruce Lee
Fight falsehood



Hajiani Sara Sona (Brock) Barnes

I Will Pull You To The Surface

God speaks to us through many ways… sometimes, it’s a poem written by a complete stranger, who becomes nearer to you in that moment than those closest to you…

Sounds of the Son

When you are losing power
I will give of my strength
When you try, but come up short
I shall grant you the length

When you struggle to find direction
I will instil perfect purpose
When you are drowning in denial
I will pull you to the surface

When your intentions collide
I will separate light from night
When your sensibilities blind
I will lead you from wrong to right

When your possibilities dry up
I will drench you with new vision
When your dreams do not pan out
I will bring them to fruition

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New Colours

Marlon speaks to me… what a blessed poet! 🙂

Sounds of the Son

When agony rings the bell
And apathy closes the door
I will open empathy’s window
And polish fulfillment’s floor

When sorrow takes the wheel
And punishment pumps the brakes
I will put you on a flight
Over anguish and mistakes

When loneliness rains down
And desolate clouds cover
I will fill you with a rainbow
Of new colours to discover

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