Generosity is a river
Every river has a source
And the source is the farthest from
Where the rivers ends, of course
You’re just the silt on the banks
But, thanks
Poetry
Keep Walking
Walk the path
Heed the sign
Break a rule?
Pay the fine
Walk the path
Heed the sign
Break a rule?
Pay the fine
Walk the path
Make A Plan
First of all
If you didn’t
Put a match
And some flint
In your pocket
Before you start
That’s the most important part
Now make a plan
Let it sit
For an hour
Or a day
Then come back
Look at it
In a condescending way
Make a change
Turn some screws
Run projections
Render views
Let it sit
Once again
While you catch up
With a friend
Grow your plan
Let it be
Like the branches
Of a tree
If there’s fruit
Well and good
Otherwise
There’s firewood
So make a plan
If nothing else
It’ll keep you warm
Fearfully
The fear of being proved wrong:
Lose it, it’s weighing you down
The fear of being proved right:
Find it, and keep it around
Idioticked
It’s alright, son
I know it makes you sad
But acting like an idiot
Isn’t even half as bad
As being one
I know
Enough’s Enough
You look in the mirror
And see your reflection
But then there’s another
Large mirror behind you
You chase down reflections
And get to the last one
That last one you found there
While trying to find you
Yes, that one. No, THAT one
That’s tending to zero
You know you can’t see it
Although it can see you
It’s laughing at you
Tree
Forbidden tree
Forgetful mind
A devil’s plot
In a scheme Divine
What is, is not
What is not, is
Son of Hātim
The scholars give their volumes up to hear The warriors their arms that they may touch The children all their toys to just be near This man. No man was ever loved so much. And now ‘Adiyy bin Hātim son of Tayy Of line defining generosity Found himself in Madinah standing by A grandmother who kept his company He watched him standing on the dusty way Conversing with that frailness bent with years Unhastening despite the long delay Attending reassuring calming fears ‘Adiyy received more than he ever gave Came looking for a king and found a slave
Whale
Inside the beast
Within the sea
How near the sound
Of prophet’s plea
What is, is not
What is not, is
Baby
Their dancing tongues
In faithless cheeks
The mother, silent
The infant speaks
What is, is not
What is not, is