Some days it feels the journey isn’t worth it Those are the days to dig your heels in deep And if you need a sign look to the earth, it Keeps going while the going’s there to keep So take a breath my Qasimi sojourner And give your weary eye a little rest Seek out your willow that will shade a learner Whose body mind and soul are in the quest Think to when he the best of all creation Reclined against that old devoted tree His face supplying all the recreation That his companions would ever need May leisure quench your spirit yielding strength To grow and serve throughout the journey’s length
Sonnet
On His Baldness
Why so much love for them that part from you They give no thought to how they’ve grieved your mind Such love for things that leave the way they do But not for them that choose to stay behind Don’t shun the shine upon your blessed bean God’s plan is in all things that shed and fall Be hair or fur or leaves that once were green They all submit obeying nature’s call So why so sad my khalid at this loss When all it really is, is wholesome gain You know that your beloved won’t be cross If you yourself have chosen to remain Some surfaces are meant to be some day A field of cranium for children’s play
Don’t Answer The Door
Despair comes knocking often in these times Its droll and dreary beat upon your door Conjuring up images of your crimes Until your shattered heart can take no more khalid acknowledge your deficiencies While there’s no good in lying to yourself Your mad frustrations only serve to please The demons wishing ill upon your health But sit upon a rock and let the air Remind you of the one who’s heart was filled With grief that his beloved wasn’t there To nurse him when a rain of stones had stilled The heavens sending prayers upon a man Content revived and pleased with Allah’s plan
Rahmatan
Some days when grief arrives in all its grays When every flower in your garden dries When laughter doesn’t burst with golden rays And all the rains seem dammed up in your eyes Go find yourself a rock to sit upon To let your worries float upon a breeze (If you can do this near the break of dawn Around when dew has washed the tops of leaves) Then coax your heart to journey back instead To when a sad unbroken man sat down To cleanse his sandals overcome with red Derided, scorned and driven out of town Take heart from him and dry your tears friend. He is a rahmah to you till the end
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
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
So Grateful
I often say I’m grateful but I think
The act of saying so acts like a charm
See all I want to say is that I’m glad
But “gratitude” can ward away the harm
If I were truly grateful for a thing
I’d fall upon my face and offer thanks
I wouldn’t find the time or rhyme to bring
Myself to publicize the sentiment
But on and on I go about how kind
The Lord has been to me in every way
While I am, simply said, out of my mind
With happiness, but don’t know how to say
I’m just a self-absorbed and petty lad
Who likes to say he’s grateful when he’s glad
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

Respectfully
A lot of things are said about respect
And all of its effects upon your heart
That beats a path to waters that reflect
The visage of your soul once you depart
Sometimes it means to rise from where you sit
To be, with the angelic order, one
Sometimes it means to let another spit
The final word and still your burning tongue
It means to let a rumor starve and die
Appoint your heart above what’s in your head
To weigh the need to ask the how and why
And leave unsaid what’s better left unsaid
Respect: it is the currency of souls
The passage widens once you pay the tolls
And all of its effects upon your heart
That beats a path to waters that reflect
The visage of your soul once you depart
Sometimes it means to rise from where you sit
To be, with the angelic order, one
Sometimes it means to let another spit
The final word and still your burning tongue
It means to let a rumor starve and die
Appoint your heart above what’s in your head
To weigh the need to ask the how and why
And leave unsaid what’s better left unsaid
Respect: it is the currency of souls
The passage widens once you pay the tolls
In Defense of Ibn Turab’s Verbosity
You tell me that I use a word too many
But words are much like colors, don’t you see
How pleased or how offended we’re by any
Diverging value or intensity
You paint a wall a certain shade of sky
Alaskan, Early Morn or Shooting Star
They’re blue if you just plan on getting by
But color-wise you won’t go very far
So when I use a hundred words to say
What you think just requires twenty five
You’ve only heard the quarter of a gray
That I relayed four times intensified
Our wordiness is hard on one who rues
The value and intensity of hues
But words are much like colors, don’t you see
How pleased or how offended we’re by any
Diverging value or intensity
You paint a wall a certain shade of sky
Alaskan, Early Morn or Shooting Star
They’re blue if you just plan on getting by
But color-wise you won’t go very far
So when I use a hundred words to say
What you think just requires twenty five
You’ve only heard the quarter of a gray
That I relayed four times intensified
Our wordiness is hard on one who rues
The value and intensity of hues