Khalid Mukhtar

Word, like wind, cuts through you / Withers all but true you

Poetry

Thursday Riddle (October 2, 2014)

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These two brothers spindly, asleep they remain
To wake for employment that comes with the rain;
Together they sleep and together they rise,
And all that they sweep expeditiously dries.

There is a Face I Long to See

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There is a face I long to see,
I pray that it will turn to me
The day I dread but hope to free
My lowly soul.

There is a voice I long to hear,
I pray that I will find it near
The day I lose my own to fear
I can’t control.

There is a hand I long to touch,
I long to touch it very much
To drink from it my fill as such;
And I’ll be whole.

There is a man I long to meet,
I long to sit beside his feet,
In timeless moments to repeat
For evermore.

SallAllahu ‘alayhi wa sallam.

Thursday Riddle (September 18, 2014)

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Taller than mountains and wider than skies,
Yet never been seen, well hidden from eyes,
Survives on appeasement and plentiful lies,
And all the corruption that it justifies;

It seldom obeys, most often defies,
Repressed by the best who inhibit it’s rise
Through stratagems wily and formulas wise,
A noisy companion that nags till it dies.

The Kindness of Zak Lombardi

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My second Zak Lombardi installment. Thanks, AM, for the motivation :-).
Little Zak Lombardi
Was always late for school,
Was exceptionally tardy,
Though he followed every rule.
He remembered now the words
Of Miss Benson yesterday
As he smiled up at the birds
That he spied along the way.
Yes, today Zak would be
Right on time to catch the bus,
He would give old Miss B.
Not a chance to make a fuss.
But then just as he got
Right about to cross the street,
Zak Lombardi came to spot
Granny Williams on her feet.
And she held in her hands
Many bags that were filled
To their tops with the groceries
Determined to be spilled.
As she stumbled on right past him,
And he ambled as he did,
Little Zak had a glimmer
Of what makes a kindly kid.
Sure the walk five block south
Would not make Miss Benson glad,
But a taste in his mouth
Said it won’t be all that bad.
So around turned Lombardi
Took the bags with a smile
And that pleased Granny Williams
The entire half a mile.
There always will be choices
That, my friend, you’ll have to make,
But a chance to be kind
Is the one to ever take.

Thursday Riddle (September 11, 2014)

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Born of cowardice and shame,
Blackens hearts that love to blame;
But when borne by pure intent,
Deftly uttered where it’s meant,
Softens hearts and binds them true, 
To outweigh the good you do.

Thursday Riddle (September 4, 2014)

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Four brothers kingly unsurprisingly
Unite their four kingdoms as one;
Each joins with their subjects, all end up divided,
Desired by some, while by others derided,
For hours and hours of fun;

Haytham’s Catch

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A long time ago, before there were trains,
Before electricity or aeroplanes,
There lived at the top of a mountain along
The shores of an ocean, a family strong

Of eagles: a father, a mother and child,
Three proud and remarkable creatures of wild,
That well loved each other, lived happily on,
And so did it happen one morning at dawn.

You see, the young bird, Haytham was his name,
He’d learned how to fly, but didn’t know game,
And thus he set out with his father this day
To listen and learn and to follow his way.

They flapped and they glided away from the shore
To where little Haytham had not been before,
And when they looked down, they spotted a pod
Of dolphins that swam in formation unflawed.

“Will that be our meal?”, Haytham had to ask
So eager to start on his morning time task;
“Oh, no”, said his father, “That creature you spy
Is too large a beast to carry and fly.”

And so they turned shoreward and saw the sun fold
The waters in mantles of yellow
and gold,
Then dove down together and scouted the beach
And noticed a crab on a rock within reach.

Asked Haytham, “Will that be our meal?”, as he eyed
The two muddy pincers that opened up wide,
“Another day, Haytham”, his father explained,
“For more must be learned for more to be gained.”

So westward again they flew over sea
And slowly descended till Haytham could see
The sizable quarry his father had sighted
Oblivious to the attention invited.

And then in that moment, the two eagles parted
For Haytham remained while his father departed:
His young eagle senses had grown to such heights
That all he could think of was locked in his sights.

So down Haytham swooped with both wings upturned
Immersing his talons that swiftly returned
With halibut catch so patiently earned,
Then upward he soared with the knowledge he’d learned.

There is but a Haytham in every child
With body and strength that the Fashioner styled,
We only need guide them to where they may find
What tends to the spirit and waters the mind.

To lead is to follow; to follow the blind,
You follow in silence and lead from behind.