Antioch

he said:

“let’s take a walk down to the store

and then a slow walk back…”

and we did.

sipping quietly from glass bottles.

he liked my poetry

and probably me

but i couldn’t see much

at that time;

and now i miss

the dark rich smells

of youth and the texture

of well-oiled course black hair,

and the music we revered

as we grew beyond our worlds.

there has indeed 

been a revolution

not so much what we pictured

but indeed a fantastic change   

of times and events.

and i do not know about him,

but some of us are still here

driven by the Love

that started it all;

biding our time 

and still walking

towards whatever

we must

complete.
Linda Tauhid

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The Winds

they form

off the coast

of Mother Africa

generating

rising winds

and fury

following

the transatlantic

path

that the ships

that carried her people

once trod.

they gather strength

and wreak havoc

on ocean and land

they silence the mighty,

confound the rulers

of the lands.

they flood,

they maim,

they kill.

they are never named

for the spirits

that conjure them;

even in destruction

the truly powerful

are hidden…

while the children

of this time ‘play’ 

games of government

and power.

twisting the tongues

of the speakers,

ignoring the great dangers

of reciprocity–

justice;

angering nature

and man

and risking

earth,

life

and limb.
Linda Tauhid

©9/10/17

Keziah

we used to go

to watch animated films

and eat popcorn.

i liked introducing her

to all things new…

fruits that she had 

not tasted:

fresh pineapple, mango, papaya…

the feel of sand on bare feet

and the warmth

of summer Gulf waters.

i dressed her in summer dresses

and scarfs like me

and weakened

her coffee

with lots of milk.

a little companion

of so much joy.

will she remember me

as i remember my grandmothers

each night in prayer?

will she pass through

her premature adolescence

and be fine?

will she be a lady

who wears scarves

and matching hats?

who eats diverse foods

at fine restaurants

and shops madly

for bargains

and womanly things?

has time and distance

diluted my influence,

clouded the love we shared?

who will calm her tantrums,

assure that she is never bored;

make sure she  always knows

that there is something new?

i leave that

to the Master

of time and fate;

while i continue

to sashay around town

frocked in summer dresses,

hats and scarfs…

minus my little girl,

long gone–

my right hand.

Linda Tauhid

9/8/17

Arafah

i long

for that elevated place;

my soul seeks

its redemptive power.

flashes of wrongs

light my memory

and i beg

for forgiveness,

Grace.                                                 

i have been unduly

in error

and i

remain ashamed.

i seek help, pardon;

i have no legs

to walk the blessed

circumference

of faith;

i have no tongue

to speak my words

of sorrow,

repentance;

i am piteously

lost

blinded by ego,

yet remorseful.

i have wronged humans

and life itself;

i have abused,

neglected,

scorned.

i am not fit

to abide.

yet i hunger for life,

continuence–

why?

that i                                            

may be                                     

pardoned      

and walk straight–

that i may 

err less

and forgive…

Linda Tauhid
8/25/17

Noah

remember Noah;

it was wetter then–

raining nonstop.

but they

(the people)

had been warned–

as have we;

about honor

and wealth

and how to utilize these

in human causes

to equalize

and make fair,

without excessive pride.

…and then i saw a family

on TV

in a small boat

rescued

in this large city

where little usually floats–

loss of everything,

but not lost.

they bowed their heads

thanking The Protector

of all

for His Mercy

and their lives…

recent migrants

from another troubled city,

even larger;

in an ‘ark’ so small

that some

might over

look.

Linda Tauhid

Houston, Texas

8/28/17

Of Women

i am of women

strong

and

true.

mothers,

grandmothers,

aunts,

sisters,

cousins

and friends.

mentors of high quality;

wise women,

workers

and seers.

my path was cleared

by the brave

who threw off

disappointment 

and pushed through…

my teeth were cut

around kitchen tables

and sitting rooms

where one could look,

listen,

and learn.

my herstory 

is full of stories

that made hardship

look easy:

lost loves never spoken of,

migration,

children,

hard work

and purpose.

i am of women

whose beginnings

we’re meager

but whose spirit

is substantial.

women who saw beauty

in themselves,

who wore hats

suits,

pants

and floral dresses;

who shaped their eyebrows

and curled their hair.

women who learned

and taught

and rarely showed

their tears.

i am

of women

who lived and died

strong 

and true;

who produced daughters

and sons

to live 

with benevolent legacy

integrity,

dignity,

and pride.
Linda Tauhid

©8/16/17

Joel

will i never see you

again?

is it enough to just have

known?

will you never hear

my stories;

where i’ve traveled

what I’ve seen?

was what you taught me

back then

to be all…

Nina Simone,

“Four Women”

the beginnings of chess

and long walks.

you a teacher,

me a lover–

immersed in what you

knew,

what i wanted to learn,

the ‘feel’ of you.

when you

decided to try white women

(beginning with my friend)

and never went back…

is that a loss for me,

my ilk? (whoever they are)

have you escaped

to another land

where you will never

coach or remember 

another like me,

or

tell stories of Johnny Mathis,

or Curtis Mayfield

on a bow-legged

Boston walk;

or misconstrue

my attention,

my adoration,

for simple

curiosity

and

care?
Linda Tauhid

©7/6/17