This is what happens when your own
         past--
Twisting and turning with you at some
         midnight hour-
  Becomes you, all over again at once,
          all too fast,
Overlapping you,  heart and soul,
          strenuous in power;
   Precious memories posted in
         unchartered  future;
Each note of thought  wearily clings, too
         often
  But a scene with  yourself,  demanding
         an answer,
Yet within past  content, drifting you to
         give-in, just to soften
  The unintelligable  trail, past wishes
         revived in ardor:
For, without  pain of the past, can
        there be possibility of  a future?

            
                                       -by
                          HAKIM H. KASSIM.
                           (d. March 25, 2024)

Eyes I saw full of me,
  Blue, or brown, these now pass by me,
The lore of Love thus defined
Remains unspoken,  though refined:
  'To where is he gone,'  she in muttering
            tone asks;
We've left so much for  the WASPS;
  Now, retreated for  Allah's sake,
Where can I, for her,  make the bake?
  Nor for love, where to rest and reign--
To escape all of pain?  Ya. RABBI, hello,
            and Your saints,
Yes, we're your guests--
  Should we have to pay for our souls,
So exploited within these walls?

                        -by Hakim H. Kassim.

Wild wishes, too high for worldly tries,
Celestial glows that do not fit into time
      and place,
  Lost love's tormented hopes and cries,
Come with fresh face at my dooryard.

Wild wishes, desires that cannot be
      quenched in poor world's weak  arms,
Joys treading my footsteps  from Heaven
       above,
    All my loves long ago, my sweet heart-
        felt  urges,
  Of all I ever seek, of all I ever wanted in
         heart,
Beckon to lead me to Higher Houses of
        content.

  Wild wishes, her face, her eyes, and the
         love I have for her,
Feelings I cannot put aside no matter
        what,
  The deep-felt dream of uniting with her
        in  truth,
She comes to me riding high on Wild
       Wishes for my  hand!

                                                 -by
                                     Hakim H. Kassim.

There's no other to  grieve your lost hope,
   It's for you to face and cope;
With life's various despairs by yourself
         alone,
And alone must, wrestle  and have it won;
Family would smile with you but for a
        moment,
And no friend could vouchsafe for you
       on Day of Judgement;
For so many will come 'round you for
       embrace,
Yet on your own you must ride on life's
       every chase;
Though we rejoice in hope on every new
       morrow,
One couldn't care less for his own
       brother's sorrow!
    
                                         -by
                              Hakim H. Kassim.  
                        (d.September 21, 2024)

(for huda)
you don't care to remember yesterday--
even if you were the one who took the
          wrong way--

just to say you're "sorry," and make your
          peace,
for we'd then get-off on a new plate with
         some ease;

where's your conscience? aren't you for a
         minute sane?
you used shout at me with all your false
         complaint--

never caring to listen, too often baking
        my heart so sore,
till you at last broke our bond, and more!

--ah, how patient and quiet i bore your
         abuse,
for you then were after money,
         and  without excuse--

determined as i then was, wanting to
         keep us together
as a family, soon to be a father and a
        mother;

there you're with false tears, and false
        argument all the same;
humbled,  i ignored who's right and who
        not, taking all the blame,

you didn't care to listen but ran  away
       with your  "cousins" in team,
and i was left bitter alone, just to moan
       and  ponder over broken dream:

and tonight you come, seven years to this
       day,
imploring with  pleas of love, not to delay

a love,  a you gone years ago: if i accept
you now anyway, how wouldn't it be
       down again swept?

              
                         -by Hakim H. Kassim.
                         (September 11, 2024)

-YOU.

the morning-sun glows in a Promise so
      celestial,
over your tender face, a soul too dear, too
      adorable

for this world  (of envy and hate) itself to
       astound
over  you--a Beauty, never seen or heard
       around;

reflecting in seductive rays across your
      face, with me stricken with your
          gleam,
your heavenly charms which I only fancy
     in my best dream--

that lip that I'd not tire of kissing but in
     my wishful unrest,
and those ******* I long for beyond what
    can be expressed;

a willing prisoner, I'm lost in the mystery
    of your eyes,
and not with my hand, but with all my
    heart I  glimpse your thighs;

your quiet, indifferent airs, your smile
arresting me in heart for longer than a
     while---

remembering, like seeing, you easily
     drives me  most lonely--
of all women, for Beauty aren't you
     the one and only?

                              -by Hakim Kassim.
                             (d. September 03, 2024)

Come winds, from afar and and near,
Charge, waters of the  world,  to sweep
Tyrants out who use  humble fellows with
           no care
In corporate classes,  for profit to reap!

Oh, how false and  mad-lived is this!
Trading their human  nature for only
          dollar  in truth,
And despite what the  mind urges to
          enlist---
Love, and Care, fraternal hope for youth!

To where is wisdom  gone, does any one
           know?
Will Corporation  give care and love?
It's false for other than Allah to bow:
Will dollar keep them out of  the  grave
          and above?
              
                         -by Hakim H. Kassim.
                           (July 15, 2015)