Vast is the sea of imbecility
That stretches from the shores
Of instant gratification
To the seaside crags
Of I can’t wait to be patient
Poetry
Proofing
If you concede
That you don’t know
How the next ten seconds
Of your life may go
Then the plans you make
Will rise and bake
At temperatures
Even and low
Sweet Beginning
A death is only beautiful
If it marks a sweet beginning
And that makes all the difference
Between losing and winning
Ulul Albaab
There’s a pumpkin seed here in my mouth
And it has been all over I tell you
To the west and the east and the south
But it can't 'scape the brace of its shell. You
Can unleash the precision of teeth
You can buffer the motions of tongue
You can coax it to submit beneath
All the pressure from traps that you’ve sprung
Till the hull comes apart at the seam
And the kernel slips out in the open
As unbroken and green as a dream
(If you like pumpkin seeds I am hopin’)
Ask the folks of the kernel about
Their reflections on getting it out
Close
take him
as your father
to never feel orphaned
and he’ll take you by your
hand till you’re thru
but know he’s more
than
a father
was sent
to be
close
closer
to
you
than
you
Keep Walking
Sometimes our search for answers leads us to
A clearing where answers do not live
We’re not to live there either, pass on through
To see what gifts the wilderness may give
This forest we call life is not so bad
The trees are there so we may find our way
To lie beside the river and be glad
Ingratitude will certainly delay
Our quest You see the answer may not come
As sweetly as a flower on a stalk
But rather as a dusty path that some
Old seeker must have chosen for a walk
As long as we keep walking we are blessed
Because the answer’s built into the quest
Appointment
Hear me out my dear
It’s a simple plan
If we love this man
Insha Allah then
We will meet again
We will meet again
If we love this man
We will meet again
You can shed a tear
And pronounce a prayer
No goodbye for you
No forever gone
All that’s keeping us
From each other then
Is the roar of time
And the noise of men
We will meet again
We will meet again
If we love this man
We will meet again
Wedding Party
For little Noor the sound of laughter
Died away a moment after
Fireball devoured the room
And turned it to a fiery tomb
With Noor beneath a smoldering rafter.
One moment, swishing silver taffeta,
Mom and dad embraced and chaffed her
Sister, wrapped in heaven’s bloom
For little Noor.
Then, death! Lord, how the breathing have to
Pick themselves up from disaster
Every trial sacred womb
That bears them out to weather doom
There is no golden globe or bafta
For little Noor
Stressing?
Make a list of all your battles
Brew some chai, take the trouble
Picking ones you can lose
Where the loss is tolerable
It may seem a bit defeatist
But a wise concession scatters
All your seeds of careful planning
Left to harvest when it matters
Cruise Control
How much longer do you have on this road
Will you make it to the end
Or is the end how far you make it
How much longer do you have on this road
Your exit’s coming up
You’ll know it when you take it