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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
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 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
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
gleck Sep 2016
Children get handed things easily,
and they learn
that it's easier to throw away
than to hold on and keep it.

Adults are very different,
they cherish things
and would not objectify others
since humans are not things.

But right there,
throwing you away
like an object,
the man who was no longer a child said;

"I don't want you anymore"
clever May 2018
No one else bleeds when they think.
Pretty on paper, just red ink.
It drips like tears when I weep.
It pools in my bed as I sleep.
Red waters surrounding a desperate isle.
It rises in my throat when I smile.
Only I bleed when I think.
It stains the office of my shrink.
I only drown when I think.
Tell me.
Knit Personality Jul 2018
There once was a player named Morgan
Who played all day long with his *****:
     He played with it majorly,
     Sadistically, and ragerly,
That claw-handed, hairy-palmed Morgan.  

There once was a confident nudist,
The rudest of nudists, and lewdest,
     Who'd offer a toot
     On his flesh-and-bone flute,
Declaring he'd make you a flutist.

There once was a wandering hobo
Who wandered from NoBo to SoBo
     Whilst whistling merrily,
     Gladly, and verily
Mozart's concerto for oboe.

#
M-E Mar 8
He is a painter
who dreamed big
as The eiffel tower or
The statue of liberty
Descendant of The Monalisa and
The painter's self-portrait without a beard

He bought some paints and canvasses
but not some Aspirin
or Vicodin or anything
for the headach He had but
a frr.. a frrrr. That thing gave him
a homemade Advil-like pill, which it was
Fentanyl which is Morphine like only
its more like its a Hydrogen bomb
He slept but never woke up
to dream big, again

Not far from him
In a bar stool
in a beautiful town
with good people and
the same kind of ****** people
A beautiful lady, She was sitting
in that beautiful town, on a stool
when a charming prince facade
asked her for a ride
but before She decide, he offered her a drink
so She will not think he is a  tool
One drink, two drinks, maybe thirteen!!
Rohypnol inbetween
******* down
Think twice before
Lowering trust crown

Inspired:
I apologize if this is offensive by Deb Jones
King Panda Mar 2016
I laid an anemone
on the mask of a crying girl
the young mother
the crouching woman
I am beautiful
says the sirens
says the ever-youthful vegetation
of God

I mixed my blood and nectar
on the mask of a dying man
the decay of kiss
the resurrection
I am beautiful
says the anemone
says Adonis in his grave

I burned their leaf-stems
on the mask of an artist
the eternal springtime
the life-death-rebirth deity
I am beautiful
says the martyr
says girl as she wakes
to the sirens

I am beautiful
says the head on the platter
I am beautiful

and the woman descends
the bronze invading
the bronze high-handed
the bronze opening
to the gates of hell
ghazal Nov 2018
with nothing to my name i was on the verge of going insane
talking to myself, each syllable ripped away the petals of my blossomed mental health

tear me down
spit on my dirt

fear no one
but god and her
insta: @faithpoetrybook
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