Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
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 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,
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
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
Cedric McClester May 2015
By: Cedric McClester

Or why would they do what they do
And then pervert al-Islam too
They plant bombs inside of cars
To blow up strangers near and far
But they take things too ******* far

But not by giving Islam a scar
Who the hell they think they are
Shaytan’s minions? They’re on par
Those not cursed by how they live
Chopping heads off especially with
A rusty knife known as a shiv

Those who maim and also ****
Will soon be presented with the bill
And their ambitions will get them nil
The sins they will have to confess
To get those sins up off their chest
While facing hell fire nevertheless

Hell will find them wherever they are
In their homes near or far
Because they have raised the bar
From those ****
Who constantly beat their war drums
And take advantage of the deaf blind and dumb

Copyright © 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.
Nolan Morris Apr 2018
he would say

I will return home in May”

and “god-willing,
god-willing,” we say
might the almighty soul find a home
and might this
be that day
Bennie said "We all have to die"
Jade said "Nobody ever dies"
Yahnie said "Death is but a dream"
Bennie said "In dreams we find death"
Jade asked "But do the dead ever dream?"
Yahnie said "Only if they forgot to live while they were alive"
Bennie said "We all have to die"
Jade said "We all live forever"
Yahnie said "I believe in believing"
Bennie asked "What is there to believe in?"
Jade said "The mystery of Forever"
Yahnie said "The words of the prophets"
Bennie said "I'm my only prophet"
Jade said "Now you understand"
Yahnie asked "What are we talking about?"
Bennie said "Death, 'cause we all have to die"
Jade said "Life, 'cause we all have to live"
Yahnie said "I think I've been caught dreaming too much again".

Sajal Ahmed  Jun 2018
Sajal Ahmed Jun 2018
When everyone gets sorrow, everyone does not know to cry,
Some of the heart breaks like a glass piece!
But do not water the eyes!
The only God who knows how to mourn, how deep is the sorrow!
I'm in the body,
So little bodice
So insulted
So much boring
So disrespectful
How do I end up with my self-esteem. I am "Boss wow"!
But yes, yours
All the illusions
Heart breaks no more
Eyes are heavy!
Humiliation, ignorance
And bothersome
Being stored in the bag.
Eyes repeatedly pointing out
Say, how much more
Neglect, how much more

.. Two..
I'll return one day
All humiliated humiliation!
You just keep on looking,
As i am
To you
I looked.
All on the face
Say "no"
Do not hold hands
Do not sit beside
Give me repeated holes
Think of me stupid
Every slap
By each
Me in diffusion

I will take all the money by throwing my face
Inshaallah one day
I will return the whole!
No one in your mouth
Do not talk
Because the canals cut itself
You brought crocodile!
You may also have trouble thinking that
"I can be so bad!"

.. Three..
If you're dead,
In your corpse
Do not kick!
My expensive shoes
Misers is absolutely
Do not tolerate!
Stay away from touching
I'm your body
Be far away
I do not see!
You have to be insulted in the coffin.
I will pretend to be
No more than you
Do not i know
In no time
We are known
I did not.
I will hate it!
The rest of the past
You will remember;
One group in the grave
Will not throw it
Do you know
Where I am
Do not drop.
Get the opportunity
Your impotent coffin
Fire will burn!

.. Four..
You die
One day after a decade
The grape will grow in the grave,
Your grave
No one is cared about,
Erase almost
The high stone of the grave.
Only on the silence signboard
Your vague
Name white
You me
Will come to see you
come I am to you, I Will not see
Maybe thinking
Your grave
I came to Ziarat......
You will breathe comfortably
Maybe I think about me
Your penalties in Doa (Pray)
Negatives can be minor.
I smile mystery laughing,
Your grave soil
Seeing breaks.
I will stand by the grave
Pretend to be jealous,
Slowly open the zipper
Walking around the grave,
I will **** on the grave. And
I'll give it to you

You will see
But nothing is happening
Power to say
No you
Your words in the world
Nobody listens
No longer
Even yours
The grave angels do not!
Remember, me
Ignore said
Your peace in the grave
Do not be there!
Ha ha ha!
Gita Ashok Oct 2010
Miles and miles of sand
with no horizon in view,
the caravan moves on -
in search of an oasis.

The heat is treacherous,
the sand is scorching,
the camels are tired
and so are the herdsmen.

The journey is long,
the day will almost be gone
and darkness will reign again
until another day dawns.

The desert’s dreadful distances,
the weather’s  vicious whims,
the camels’ callous restlessness
all add to the herdsmen’s hardship.

Roadless tracks
of sand and rocks
where tall, wild cactuses abound
with many sand dunes around.

The Sahara -
a natural oven -
bakes humans and camels alike
leaving scattered mortal remains.

A sandy landscape
in shades of light fawn
with deceptive mirages
inviting thirst again.

The journey is long
with no sign of an oasis.
But the caravan must move on…
Inshallah – until we meet again.

Gita Ashok
9/10/2010, 3:15 pm
A couple of years ago, I read a pictorial feature on the Sahara Desert in an old issue of the National Geographic magazine.  It is still green in my memory and I decided to capture it in poetry form.
we're brothers in flesh
disjointed in mind
allah is all together
all the gods refined
distilled and decanted
the measure the bind
the empty glass is more full
than the headiest wine
Hally wally Dec 2010
Death Be Knocking
28 December 2009 at 00:21
Death be knocking in your sleep
While you lay there peacefully in a dream
The Angels came and took out your soul
Now your rest in peace in your eternal abode
The struggles you went through
Those painful headaches of yours grew
Your complaints and worries you told me so often
Which made my heart soften
You made me laugh so much
For your character id always vouch
You were my big brother to me
Despite all your anarchy
The way you made my blood boil
When you'd say I smelt of desi oil
I'd get into a hefty frenzy about it
Then you'd always make me sit
Tell me to calm down
And don't frown
You made me happy and sad
Sometimes you'd make me a little mad
But most of all, I just want to say;
'I miss you so much , I just wish you'd stay
Just one more day
Even just for word play
I'd tell you how great you are
To me you are a star
Death came knocking in your sleep

Inshallah your in a better place
away from the stressful day to day race

— The End —