Careful what you think, Khalid
Careful what you say
The latter being capable
Of turning you away
For every single word by you
Is primarily heard by you
And courses through your veins to seek out
Cells in which to play
So shut up and have a nice day
Four Minutes
Freight train
Counting cars
One, two…
At first I thought it sad
That I actually had
Nothing better to do
One hundred and twelve
Got me thinking
It’s been a productive
Four minutes
Make it, Count
If the world is your Château d’If
Make it count lest
You’re tested with relief
On Retiring My Cardboard Box Companion
I still recall the day it came to us
A banquet spread within its cardboard ends
From kindly friends extremely generous
Whose generosity surpasses friends
We ate our sustenance from it that day
And then I couldn’t bear to throw it out
For its pronounced proportions found a way
To serve as stand-up desk for me somehow
For months it has endured my eager wrists
And offered steady berth to all my things
While silently inviting my digits
To tap their tips into a thousand wings
The blessings in a cardboard box are from
The generosity with which they come
Dissolved
Don’t treat a problem like a solute
That disappears in a solution
Because it’s right there
Like all that negative vocabulary
Invisible in the air
Better
Believe that He knows you
Better than you, man
And you’ll see He forgives you
Better than you can
Nickels
Ilaahi Rabbal ‘Aalameen
This day, this hour, now
Is all I have and all I need
To show my thanks somehow
Increase my sight that I may see
The truth sublime so clear
And empty me of every lie
My selfish heart holds dear
I’m drunk on tunes of mirth and sin
Exchange the sounds I’ve heard
For tones of still submission in
The music of Your Word
Avert from me all food and drink
That dulls my thoughts of You
And let the taste of worship burst
From every bite I chew
Allow me breathe the fragrances
That come upon the calm
That blows from where the chosen one
Is sending his Salaam
Ilaahi let me feel the touch
Of all that’s pure and good
Relieve me from a painful fate
Of human firewood
Breathe In
Pass up where the grass
looks greener
And seek out where the air
is cleaner
Growing
If you can’t find a friend
To help you see the error of your ways
Then growth
Is looking for that friend
Or coming by the error of your ways
Or both
Breath
If your vessel is battered
And mainsail is tattered
But you find the winds blowing the same
Then stand up a canvas
Of hope for a plan must
Rely on a breath of His Name