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 Jul 2018 Jackie Mead
Darcy Lynn
I am adept
In the art of being okay
I have mastered the craft
Of covering my troubles
I use all sorts of fancy facades
Acrylic, oil, watercolor
You name it.

I can paint over nearly anything

You will never know
How late I was up last night
Or why.

My eyes flicker
Like candlelight
But you couldn’t see
You couldn’t possibly see
I’m too good
For that.

I can dance, too
Waltzing away my sorrows
Carefully tip toe-ing the
Pas-de-I-am-fine
I get a standing ovation every time

I’m very talented, you see.

But my all time favorite
Is my disappearing act
I’m still perfecting it
Right now
But one of these days
I’ll show you
How I
Slip
Slip
Slip
Away

Right through your fingers.
 Jul 2018 Jackie Mead
Path Humble
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
 Jul 2018 Jackie Mead
Seema
Confront
 Jul 2018 Jackie Mead
Seema
Torn in pieces
Scattered on the floor
He thought my heart was a paper,
That he could easily tore

What actually got ripped
Was not even my heart
Tapped few emotions
Few things, did fall apart

Seeing another fluttering heart
Flying next to him one day
I chose to confront once
And that, made us go on our way

He thought, I'd be jealous and blazing
Little pain it was, but not too late
I often smiled if his gaze ever fell on me
That, I did not hate

He confronted me, one day
And wanted to be back forever
I smiled again, turned and replied
.........never ever!


©sim
Fiction. Freestyle
 Jul 2018 Jackie Mead
Pagan Paul
.
As his words flow like honey onto the page
with a nod of approval from a linguistic sage.
Long gone are the days when a woman's plays
would look at the poet with a romantic gaze.

His sad verse no longer makes her cry,
his love poems fail to lift her heart to fly.
Her attention wanders like a lonely voice
away from sanctuary, towards more choice.

And as his pen drifts across a blank page
he remembers the ladies, being centre stage,
the looks of adoration in a beautiful face,
deep pools of experience for his art to embrace.

Melancholic he dips his pen again and tries,
imagination musing her gorgeous ****** eyes.
But the words won't flow, so defeated he cries,
and arranges poets tears into convenient lies.


© Pagan Paul (2017/18)
.
 Jul 2018 Jackie Mead
Mike Hauser
Be the wheel
that's set to turn
The comfort in
the daily hurt
The flame that lights
not the one that burns
Be the lesson
that is learned

Be the hope
and not despair
The helping hands
that show you care
The pleasure ride
that takes you there
Be the truth
inside the dare

Be the answer
to the call
The very reason
for it all
The solid yes
to all the no's
Be the river
that freely flows

Be the kindness
that we need
The encouragement  
that sets us free
The do good
to the deed
Be all this
and all of these
 Jul 2018 Jackie Mead
Harry Gione
I've got eyes
That makes me human
But I can't see very well through them
So I'm blind
The blurry kind
These eyes of mine
Are awfully ruined
Like an owl
My sight is fowl
In the morning when the sun rays burn right through them
The darkest shades
Would no less save
These white jelly ***** attached to my eye stems
But worst of all
Without discrediting any other travesty
Is that  these big eyes
Be they regular sized
Can't seem to see that you are bad for me
Though family-like folks
With impeccable eye yolks
Could see for days
Your shiny scales
Me as thick
And blind as a brick
Couldn't see a flick of your evil ways
To me you're kind
From the outer to inner sides
And with these eyes
I can no less find
A wrinkle in your peachy colored float and flutter cocoa butter mind
Although your cheats
And cheating like things
Are clear and clean
And as close as my cheeks
I conclude
Be it bitter and shrewd
That none is as blind as she who will not see...
 Jul 2018 Jackie Mead
Traveler
Part of me's
Been broken
Most of me
Still runs

I would give you
Heart and soul
To be your only one

No, you need not be lonely
On this desert road alone
Ask me what's for dinner
And I will take you home
....
Traveler Tim
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