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Path Humble Jun 2018
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
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,

"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,

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

and with an equally, beaming smile continued,

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

Inshallah!" ^

something he could not dispute...
or his amazement, 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
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

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

true story, poetry is there for the taking
Carter Ginter  Jun 2018
Carter Ginter Jun 2018
What a day
What a life
I've been here many times
But none of them felt like this

My first year
I saw this couple
They were dancing and singing
As they gazed into the other's eyes
The love there was palpable
And to a young queer person
Feeling extremely alone and unlovable
I cried because I didn't think
I could ever be worth
A love quite like that

Then this year happened
I thought they were a new crush
But those gorgeous eyes locked into mine
And I feel like I've known them for ages

A few drinks in and
The anxiety begins to fade away
As our bodies time themselves to the rhythm
Of music I didn't think I could dance to
As strangers question the intensity
Of the intimacy between us
And would probably freak if they knew
That we've only known each other
Just over two weeks
But time is irrelevant and
Feelings are everything

Their vibrant energy electrocutes mine
Sending my body into both a
Simultaneous rush and deceleration
As we are transported beyond this space
Beyond the heavy crowds
To a place of our own
Where no one can touch us
Where no one else exists
Where it's only them and I
Staring into each other's eyes
And feeling each other's souls
Exactly where I wanted to be
Is exactly where I am
soli Jul 12
It was 11:45 P.M. exactly
There was no more time
For any outrageous foolery.

You had to bring her home
By 12:00 no later and already
You had fifteen minutes to spare.

You stopped the car and sat
For a minute to listen
To her steady breathing.

She waits for you to say something
But you only look ahead
And listen to her breathing.

"Are you alright?" She asks you
And you reply with a smile
But to answer––it takes a while.

Maybe you don't want to admit it
But you're not alright.
Not alright with anything at all.

Not alright with the fact she's
Still with you right here
Right at this spot at this time.

Or maybe not with the fact
That her parents actually like you
And that her brother trusts you.

Does it scare you? Of course.
Do you want to believe it's real?
Of course. No gold ever mounted up.

But something still terrifies you,
Chills you to the cores of your bones
And makes your innards quiver.

Especially your heart.

But that's besides the point.
You had an imaginary woman
Stuck inside your head for years.

You're ashamed to say
You wouldn't let her out
Even though it's been so long.

She's banging at your forehead
Right now as you listen
To the other woman's breathing.

She wants out.
But you won't let her out.
She will stay with you.

No––she won't. Want to know why?
Because there's a better woman
Sitting right next to you.

She's beautiful, you know that's a fact.
She's sassy, you know that's a fact.
And you definitely know she's sweet.

So why is this other woman
The one stuck in your head
Still banging away? Trying to escape?

You know it's because you're scared.
The woman next to you? She's real.
You can touch her––she's real.

You're scared of real, aren't you?
You're scared that since she's real
She'll drag along heartbreak.

You're scared because you depend
On the woman inside your head
Far too much to be healthy.

She's fake. She won't ever hug you
Or kiss you or cuddle you or love you
She won't cry or laugh with you.

Why doesn't the imaginary scare you?
Is it because she can't ever leave you?
Is it because she's perfect?

No––obviously not.
You're not perfect,
So she's definitely not perfect.

So again, you ask yourself,
Why doesn't the imaginary scare you?
And why doesn't the real satisfy you?

It's bizarre, yes. You know that.
But seeing the woman next to you
Smile and touch your cheek,

It's terrifying.

Maybe you should leave
Maybe you should go
Hole yourself up in your room
And spend hours with the
Woman inside your head.
Maybe you should run
Before she can catch you,


"I love you." She suddenly says.
And you blink.
What did she say? I love you? To you?

"Why?" You ask with a cracked voice.
You don't deserve this.
You've been thinking about another woman.

"There are many things,
But I want you to know I do.
I really really love you."

She loves you?

"Yes." She starts laughing because
Apparently you thought out loud.
You break into a smile at the sound.

She grabs your face and pulls you close.
"I love you. I love you. I love you."
And you start crying.

Because you can hear
The genuity in her voice
Clear as a sunny day.

And also,
It's now 12:01 A.M.
September Roses Feb 2018
Imagine a Person
just like you
living parallel to you
their life a parallel line to yours
a Person who finds the same thrills as you
loves nothing more than your favorite artist
your passions exactly the same
living your life
singing your songs
painting your paintings
a Person so uncannily made for you
someone that you would instantly click with
someone that would watch sunsets with you
someone you would never let go of till the day you die.
someone impossible
because you just never quite meet
someone you just miss by some cruel circumstance
and you'll always miss them
because you see the thing about parallel lines
they never meet
MeanAileen  Mar 2017
MeanAileen Mar 2017
YOU hurt me in ways
like no one else before,
cutting me deep-
right down to the core.

YOU beat me up
without lifting a hand,
reminding me exactly
where I stand.

YOU love to **** with me
building my hopes-
making me the ****
of all of your jokes.

YOU shove your money
and life in my face,
finding it funny
that my life's a disgrace.

YOU give me your love
just to rip it away-
an unworthy pawn
in the game you play.

YOU think that I'm ****
I'm well aware,
to all the others
I just don't compare.

YOU treat me like I'm
a worthless ****,
barely good enough
for you to ****.

YOU boldly look me
straight in the eyes
and feed me so many
******* lies.

But please don't stop,
I love it this way!
Choking on every
cruel word you say....

For I am too spineless
to ever stand tall,
and I'd rather feel pain
then nothing at all.
I'm a sucker for punishment, I guess....
Tristan Currie Jul 2018
I don't believe in being humble anymore
Righteousness is the key ingredient in ignorance.
And in the hands of the righteous
innocence becomes arrogant misdirection.

To care for people is hard but crucial;
so have compassion,
and have anger.

I feel not, exactly the same
as you feel
nor exactly the opposite,
because a supposed majority don't.

I feel compassion
I feel anger
because, on balance, feelings guide;
They hurt, they're inconvenient
they bleed,
they can even die.

But nurtured and given time to develop,  
given a protective but non-insular infrastructure of thought
a feeling grows to reflect more than what is inside you,  
so you can overcome self-doubt -
and thwart unneccessary suffering the world over
city of flips Jul 2018
wants to be my friend, for I am poet-woman nineteen.

she is sweet but sad. super sad.

a good poet who wants to guide me.

but there/theirs is the odor, not faint, of wants wanting,
the pus of corruption behind the curtains,
the Wizard-ess of Oz's
special blackout curtains.

seen how easy, how her illusions,
my medium rare rejections,
morph into her delusions,

and her delusions devolve into
her conspiracy theories.

"SHE will be my mentor, poetess lover, teacher for no charge!"

my parents thinks it's great, she wants (to be) skin in my game.

my parents will find this poem accidentally, exactly,

how I do not want
to be skinned alive.

for I am poet-woman nineteen and still! now, long past
the point of being fooled, the point of no return.

and see no point,
have no intention,
of returning to either valley

no more con the my mind into letting my body

that ain't me babe.
Marietta Ginete  Aug 2017
Marietta Ginete Aug 2017
I dream of dancing with you.
Although, I'm not exactly good at it.
I dream about just us two,
Dancing and moving together, sounds fun, I'll admit.

I would love to dance,
as long as it's with you.
I'd give dancing a chance,
if you taught me how to.

I'm sorry if I step on your feet.
I'm not the best dancer.
I'll try to move with the beat,
I'll distract you from her.
Dancing never really was my thing.
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