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 Sep 2018 Anya
Path Humble
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
Arabic for ^"God/Allah willing" or "if God/Allah wills," frequently spoken by a Muslim


^^a meritorious or charitable act in the Jewish tradition

FYI,
NYC taxi cab drivers are suffering economically by the explosion of ride hailing app cars, many unable to pay their bills, earn a living, have committed suicide over the past few months
https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/sixth-new-york-city-cab-driver-dies-suicide-after-struggling-n883886

true story, poetry is there for the taking
 Sep 2018 Anya
KJ
lies i told myself
 Sep 2018 Anya
KJ
I used to think
that we were born empty
and someone else had to make us whole.

I used to believe
that he would complete me
not leave me empty and cold.

The boy stripped me
bare and took everything
from me just to fill himself.

I became nothing
but a shell of the girl that
I used to be, before he emptied me.

I used to think that
he loved me and he was doing
this to me out of care and devotion.

I was wrong to think,
to believe that he caged
me out of love and admiration.

Each hit
and verbal abuse
felt like love to me.

He told me that
he was scared of losing me,
so he lost his mind when I didn't answer.

He loved me
too much to let me
do a n y t h i n g by myself.

If I didn't have him
I would end up alone,
who else could possibly want me?

I believed
each and every
lie that he told me.

-is it really abuse if he says he loves you?
sometimes abuse sneaks up on you and you convince yourself that you're the problem, not him.
 Sep 2018 Anya
emnabee
Away
 Sep 2018 Anya
emnabee
Lately
I don’t feel close
to poetry.

It feels elusive.
Unfamiliar.
Once it spoke to me.
But now it’s mute.

It sits back
and doesn’t look
at me.

If I call out
it doesn’t hear.

Lately poetry is
like that demon
I used to want
to reappear.
 Sep 2018 Anya
Art
Forward
 Sep 2018 Anya
Art
At times I wake in dreams.
At times I’m the observer.
At times I don’t remember.

There was a time waking felt like nothing.
There was a time living was observing.
There was a time days were black.

Time walks on.
Time will move its legs and drag you across the floor.
Time won’t look back and tell you things were missed.
Time is merciless.

This time I’ll fill my eyes with color.
This time the black will come alive.
This time I’ll live.
This time I’ll wake.
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