I wrote a poem when I died...
Another at my birth.
A brand-new sonnet when I cried.
And again when there was mirth.

A song for my confession...
A story for my pain...
A painting for depression...
And nursery rhymes for rain.

My creations live inside my heart.
I keep them there in shame.
Yet you looked around and saw my art,
And smiled all the same.

I just can’t help noticing
So many poets
With splits hearts
The hearts that cries out for help
Yet I’ve noticed
The silent sounds
From the comments
The words you’ve  never said
Not a sound is heard
As they’re desperately crying for help
Their tears are falling for us
Their words crying ink
To be touched and set free
we must open our eyes
To their writings for it has a tale to tell
A glimpse of the roller-coaster of emotions
going on through the poets lives
But many go unnoticed
So I prayed
We can noticed their cries
And shield them from dangers unaware
And try to see yourself through the poets minds
Sometimes I ask myself
Are they truly In need of help
Or Is it just writings
And since I don’t have the answer
You don’t know the answer
We must and should
Reached out
Yes it is true
It’s not  our profession
But it is also true that
We are all God’s creatures
And the great book says
help those who cannot
Help themselves
So next time you
And you and you
Notice a writer
Crying out for help through their ink
It won’t hurt to send
them a few words
of encouragement
A few words of hope
Or maybe just a good morning
Sometimes goes a long way
let them know
Life is precious
It has its ups and downs
But it always gets better
As I expressed
It wasn’t long ago
When a phone call saved my life
Maybe you’re the last word
the poet is waiting on
Before they’ve reach a dead end
It’s too late

A spoonful of clear
patience and a goodnight sleep
Changes perspectives

I’ve watched them
play
Tic - tac - toe
The exes won

I long to kiss your juicy lips
As I trace your face with my fingertips
I long to hold you tight
While our lips ignite
I long to know what you taste like
I know it would feel right

left my phone unlocked
on the taxi’s back seat,
won't be the last time

called it a few times
finally, the driver picked up

he had a fare immediately after mine,
and was now headed way downtown,
and would call later
when fate returned him nearer my office

and so it came to pass,
very shortly thereafter,

we met on the street,
he rolled down  the window
and with the greatest smile of pleasure,
as if he had won the lottery
beaming,
handed me my phone

I had two $20's to cover any expense he might have incurred,
neatly folded in my hand  
and offered it right up, right away;
but the driver repeatedly pushed my hand away
as I insisted,
saying:

"No sir, no no, not necessary!

Allah sent me a fare
that took me soon back close to you, so,
  no loss of time did I suffer,
so your offer is kindly unnecessary!"

to which I replied,

"exactly!
Allah sent you to me
so I could reward you!"

and with an equally, beaming smile I continued,

"our ride and meeting today,
together was pre-ordained it was

Inshallah!" ^

something he could not dispute...
or my knowledge thereof and it’s
proper pronouncement,
nor
his amazement,
to disguise!

  we parted ways
   each believing,
   each receiving,
a heavenly check plus,
each, credited with a mitzvah^^
on our
respective trip logs,
our humanly divine balance sheets,
kept by the
single
supreme taxi dispatcher