Gratitude to God

If I were to spend every breathing moment
Thanking God
For my Mother
My Father
Those around them
I would fall short.
For every friend, companion of soul
Who ever shared a laugh
Who respected and protected
For any who loved me
And told me so
And even those who didn't
For an embrace, or an arm around the shoulder
Figurative, or otherwise
The welcoming ones who healed
In ways they have no knowledge of.
God bless them eternally,
Whether I was truly theirs or not
They've done enough to earn my prayer.

A Letter to Yen

Yen and I, January 2011

I sat in the heat
Looked to my left
And saw you atop
Of those stairs
Like heaven
And you walked down hurriedly
Dressed well,
As you do
Smiling,
Like you do
At first you didn't notice
Me alone
Then as you did
Paces became pacey
And you met me
Like a lost friend
That you are
And just as I wanted
To write it all down
I noticed your smile
Was on my face

We would have talked my friend
About why we were there
And as my eyes well up
Once more
I remember my harsh reality
If we could only live in dreams
Then we may share again
A word or two
A laugh or three
A day or four
Why stop there?
Even a life of more...

Talking to The Mirror

I could have been somebody
Laughable lament
Nonsensical nostalgia
At nineteen
Wondering what could have been
Had I held out and struggled

I had excuses though,
No excuses
Everything was set

Such an unsettled inner
Had me thinner though
For a period
Many that were parallel
With peace
But with permeable parameters
Osmosis of the focus shifting
Impulses passing thicker pulses

So you see I couldn't have had it
Trying wouldn't hurt
What if it did?
I'll never know
Will I ever know
I know that I could have
Why wouldn't I strive
I knew better than any the prize
Perhaps it skewed my eyes

Dusty Smiles

The dusty smiles settled
Voices ring in my ear
Rusty,
Simply red-like
Holding back the years
Of Laughter
Resonant with mothers, aunts
Their mothers and others
From an era sadly bygone
What time we'd forgone
In confinement
Each to their own
Moments as if stolen
From when I was six
1998 again

The homes I grew up in. My Nan still lives in the house on the right. 

We sang a song in school back then
Yesterday once more,
We'll meet again some sunny day
We'd say
Never thought I'd need to mean it
But now I feel it
Feel the need to say
Who'd have known I'd feel at all
Back when I didn't feel the need

Was it all together then?
I'd like to say it so,
What a blessing
To count when I couldn't
And now I hope they stay
It took loss for this gain
Heart engulfing pain
I prayed and prayed
For this but not for that
I didn't choose
But want to keep this and hold it close
Smiles that crept from pain
Like the scarlet concrete rose

Picturing Ramadhan

Photo:Google Images








Witnessed bearing witness
In a place of prostration
Meaning Masjid, meaning Mosque
Au Masgid fi Masr
Belly laugh from a brother
Mellow chants from a mother
Or smiling sister
Beads back and forth
In Baba's hands
As he remembers

Warm looks, soft pardons
Homes meet and eat in gardens
Sweet first dates
Jesting mates
Sharing teas and grapes in plastic plates
Where you'll see the brotherhood
In and out of other hoods
The world over
This world's sober now
Grounded, human definition
Prepositions from divine Source
mixed with samosas dipped in fine sauce
Good looks and feelings, what a fine force

The Short Walk Home

Walking, talking
Light shining
City sounds
Join the conversation
But has nothing much to say

A security worker sits on a bench
And seems to ponder life
Others lay, sit
On the grass
In the coolest heat of the night

I move closer to my abode
I step the first stair
Spotlights for my feet
I guess its what the city does

Now the skyline clearer
City still talking air
But far from still

Blue and light reflections
Upon each other
As a man puffs his cigarette

I open the door
There's trouble
Who knows who I could be?

I call the lift
She answers right away
And now I wait and speak again
29th floor, I move closer
The cool breeze
Of the air conditioning

I slowly make my way to the door
So I can finish this poem
If you can call it that

Please Don't Call Me Sir

Sir,
I just don't need it
Compliment not deserved
So let the term be reserved
I apologise if my demeanour
Means you treat me this way
Or my position as fate would have it today
My disposition just won't have it
I'm no nobleman you see
You seem a noble man to me
A smile would keep me happy
So don't coat your words with fur
I appreciate the sentiment
But please don't call me sir