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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
When I was younger:
   I shuffled along,
to no urgent song,
didn't march through my day strong. When young and strong are the best time for planned  convictions.
There's no acting lazy, or slowing down to the crazy, unless you want to live ungracefully in this hard unforgiving world.
When I was younger:
   I lacked logic cause I didn't make clear my premise,
like a man with no plan, a sap with no map.  I wandered tither and yonder like a ghoal  without a goal, a ghost least of most,  no future to ponder.
When I was younger:
   I bogged down in metaphorical feces cause I didn't watch where I was wading, forsaking and debating, planning is for suckers, futures are for chuckers.
When I was younger:
   I did nil and stood still while the city raced around me, progress to astound thee, forgetting the earth constantly rotates 260 miles an hour- waiting for no one.
When I was younger:
   Like the Dodo bird I forgot to grow wings, was eatin by rats and things, became extinct and unlinked to a place run on business, consumerism and cash. On the rocks I was dashed.
When I was younger:
I became he who loses, with a broken compass and excuses, laying laggardly leaderless, with the snoozing and the boozing, and sold my initiative for a bag of grass.
That's when I was younger:
   I'm older than that now.  But I still remember. It's  hard being younger!!
The blade feels so right with me
It's like the pain in my heart is making that blade
A home in my hand
My body, or my mind,
I don't know
But something commands it
The edge of the blade strikes me with curiosity
Wondering what all I could do with it
For the first time last night
I cut deeper
I lashed at my skin
And blood burst out of me
Like it was trapped
And glad to be free
Then no matter how hard it was to ignore the urge
To do it again
I put that Blade up in a safe place
Then I starred off into the
Dark empty space
In my room
Hearing the voices in another room
Not thinking about anything
Trying to listen to the loud silence in my mind
Trying not to feel the coldness of my soul
Letting my heart shatter little by little
Every Day
Please don't act like you care
It just isn't fair I just want to be loved
Not thought bad of
If I died today
No one would cry for me
No one would die for me
I can't be happy
Happiness just isn't for me
I'm silently begging
For someone to truly help me
Or that silver blade will cross my wrist
Again and again untell I'm satisfied with the results
I'll be satisfied when I feel
All this useless life
Drain out of me.
©Makayla Bailey
All rights reserved
Maybe it would be easier
Easier to let go
If only you had said goodbye
You broke the rules of “see you later”
Saying goodbye means I’ll never see you again
But see you later is a promise
A promise that you’ll return
If not now then definitely later
It’s in the rules
It’s like a pinky promise
Unbreakable
What good are rules and promises
If they can’t be followed or kept
What good is a heart if it’s so **** breakable
What good is trust if it’s so easily betrayed
What good am I if I’m so easy to discard
What good will it do to still ache for you
What good was your love if it brought so much pain
Why couldn’t you just follow the **** rules
voices manner and off the dock waves splatter
on the beach that night
two steps more we'd have been in love
but we spoke in patterns
waves slow ebbing flows
moon tide growth and glowing embers
stepping close then flowing  back
the night tide growth the
humid strife
we never met
or spent our time
together on these ancient rhymes.
But, in a scent, a moment meant
a drama of a moon crescent,
we'd tried to touch like mariners
the sea and all her
frothy crests.
I've given up being a martyr
I did it tomorrow or maybe yesterday
I finally found the door
Spending less time outside
More time inside
Figuring out what's next.

The chapters in our lives end
The end of that story
Or
What then?
Athletes never beat time
Hang on in forever?

The day turns into the night
You're waking up again.

The answers come and go

There is identity in being a martyr
Knowing/not knowing
What to do
Who to be
What to give
Giving it all away
Perpetual obligation
Perpetual melancholy
A purpose, a project
Completed?

What then?

We all have empty nests
Broken hearts

Projects inevitably end

Standing, looking into the distance,  hand blocking the sun
Lingering
Wondering
Is there one more thing

Yes there is

Moving on
Saying bye bye
it's time.

Alone again.
Psychologically speaking.
Resting the mind is not easy
it dances like a sparrow
and speaks like a babbler
seeking the minutest grain
from the jungle of weeds
tweeting what it has to say
from one perch to the other
in all weather.

Then the aching wings falling slow
by the cold north wind
find no worth in the haste
seek a rest
perching upon some heart.

When unbroken silence is all it has
the mind rests easy in peace.
I wake in the quiet hours
When the world is sleeping
I roll over, drawn to your warm and soft skin
You roll over and groan
Waking from the world of dreaming
Mumbling beautiful nothings in your French smoky tone
In the dark, my senses guide my lips to yours and you pull me home

You gently rise
I listen to your sweet steps as they meet the floor
The waking aroma of the espresso fill my lungs
You return to the still room
I hear the crinkling as you roll your morning cigarette
I slowly lift my head
My heavy eyes meet yours and you know what my heart is saying

Je t'aime
I am home
 Jun 2018 The Masked Sleepyz
Uta
Afternoon,

alone in the woods,

enjoying the nature and it's beauty,

seeing the shadows that the trees were making,

out of nowhere, a deer appeared in front of me,

his beauty was unbelievable as if he was sent from heaven.

The color of his fur was so rare,

his whole body was colored brown with the mixture of melting gold,

his eyes were black like the universe with many stars in it,

and every star was different and represented memories and different emotions.

They showed what each star has survived and experienced,

love, hate, happiness, sorrow.

His antlers were big, strong and damaged by many fights,

he was the king of all the deer,

he was pure and brave.

But what really fascinated me,

is that,

when he looked into my direction,

he knew,

that there is,

hope in this world,

he knew,

that we have time,

he knew,

that we have a chance to make a difference.
Comment and tell me what you think!

This actually happened, I was not alone but I was with my mother in the woods. We were just as I said in the poetry traveled around the woods. Seeking whatever comes in our way. We couldn't believe our eyes. This was not just an ordinary deer yet this deer was extraordinary and his beauty was out of this world.
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