Best Naat Poems
your melody sang in me
the mystic timing arose
night time air sending chills
beneath me the nightingales
danced a mild manner ballot
as the cranes bowed their heads
moving me despite the quiet rain
the daunting task the calming pain
Mrs Yolanda Nicholsen
I am the tangible wind
the subtle breeze whispering
passionate hints throughout
uncharted mounds dancing
beneath the infamous sun
feeding hungry hearts gathering
missing pieces holding time
in place withered by tainted bliss
I am the rapture magnified
brilliantly over land and sea
a multitude of languages spoken
without listening without hearing
I am the gully the levy the pulley
of souls dazed captured and released
between the meeting of the mind
kissing the shores time after time
Written by Mrs. Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
By Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
My residing in Munich Germany
BRING IT ON
Bring your unreachable,
Bring your difficult,
I am tough,
Bring your burdens,
Bring your depressed,
I’ve gone through rough,
Bring your exhausting,
Bring your untouchable,
Know all that stuff,
Bring your unorthodox,
Bring your unspeakable,
Bring on the powerful,
I’ll call their bluff,
Will take them by the scruff,
For I have had enough!
it comes and goes lately it seems
to linger leaving a few more scars
in its wake the mastering of self
the balance of craving the emptiness
shattered beneath us why must we
relive old memories collecting
saddened streams of haste causing
injury to the pure foundation of
emotional bliss the beautiful part
of self that rises to the surface
to rescue us from complete despair
awaken to soon we continue to wonder
aimlessly into moving traumatic events
reaching for respite familiar reoccurring
night terrors offering up our own
mental self broken by a bleak metaphor
seeking melancholy behavior only
finding mirth bottled up to perfection
Written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
while the quaint gestures
call to us i simply fall
all over your smile
the gentle way
your mind empties
my soul
written Mrs. Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
Twilight Of Spirituality
The world was dark
Before the Islam
Prophet after prophet came to the world
But the glory was very short
The twilight of spirituality had never stayed so long
They worshiped in wrong way
It was the time when truth was lost and there was no peace
No mercy on living beings
Then the finest creation came to the world
Last prophet of Allah, Mohammad (PBUH)
It was a night
Moon was shining bright
Then permanent twilight of spirituality begun
When the Prophet Mohammad (PBUH) was nearly forty
He started the meditation
He was a man who made a transition
Our Prophet showed so much dedication
Revealed to him the book named Quran
The holy shades of Allah’s Noor spread everywhere
The messages of Allah through his messenger
Blossomed like flowers of spring
This twilight of spirituality
Calm and peaceful like gentle breeze
Prophet Mohammad (PBUH) was a person who never uttered a lie
He was recognized as a truthful man
His appearance was like Allah’s Noor
His beauty was like shining stars
He taught us the things we ought to do
He taught us that Allah are one
Allah have neither a daughter nor son
He taught us to be good to our mother and father
He taught us Paradise lies under the feet of our mother
He taught us our appearance, family, mission in this life
He taught us how to perform Salah
He taught us how to give Zakath
He taught us different kinds of Jahad
He taught us Hajj, Honor, Truth, Love, Peace,
Humanity, Sympathy, care and so on……
With most excellent mind………
He taught us justice and understanding of mankind
He taught us human brotherhood and humanity
He was hurt to see bloodshed in the society
He possessed the knowledge which was a cure
The disease of ignorance, arrogance and many more
He (Last Prophet Mohammad (PBUH)) had broken all falsehood and evil way
He was the beloved Prophet of Allah
Through Prophet Mohammad (PBUH) Allah brought……..
Everlasting twilight of spirituality to this world.
Poetess S. Nadia Azam Shah Bukhari
All Rights Reserved
The alarm clock sang out, my dad jumps up
rushes me into the kitchen, today my love
is indeed, a very special day for you, my eyes
wide shut, as he continued, explaining civil rights
Cramming memories, into my little head I mean
I'd remember sitting, on my Nona's lap as,
Martin Luther King was killed in Birmingham
my entire family, regressed into deep sadness
Aging over night perhaps, so did I ,our last names
were Parks and King, let me tell you, during the
60's in Chicago, if a riot broke out our names,
were instantly called, over tornado speakers
Sound off Mohammed speaks, we were rushed
into dark sedans, being slowly driven down,
Roosevelt road this was 1969 first grade
I was preparing, to visit Lincoln's home,
and tomb mom combed, through my curl's,
my grandmother ,rubbed Vaseline on my face elbows,
and knees ,this big fuss over me, I was actually named
after Martins daughter, well Miss. Yolanda king
you get to sing, on the steps of Lincoln's memorial,
Marian Anderson's hymn, sometimes I feel like a
motherless child, afterwards the Supreme Court Justice,
we were mourning ,with happy tears, these brown face's
doting on me, five generations in my mist
standing in line, to give me a big kiss
Written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
Prayer gift of the Spirit
Makes us men and women of hope
Prayer keeps the world
Open to Eternal God
To pray alone is good
Even more beautiful
Fruitful
To pray together
Many ways to become acquainted to Him
There are experiences, groups
Encounters, Courses
To pray
Take part of parish liturgies
Be abundantly nourished by the word of Eternal God
With active participation
In the Sacraments
The baptized
Confirmed by the Eternal Holy Spirit
The Holy Eucharist, communion
So as to live as authentic friends and witnesses of Father Christ
4202013
why do I love you when all haste say's
that I shouldn't first there was rome
the way the sun danced behind me
over venice canals then there
was Kabul the hints
of the infamous mauve sky catering
to my thighs I could even see how
downtown munich bathed beneath me
an yet all I could envision is that day
that way we danced at Langley
how could our entire surroundings
become so bleakly crafted
above ancient tongues desire
of youthful follies why do I love you
let me count the ways
when everything is said
I guess I loved you more
when I thought you were dead
somewhere over Arlington road
meaningful gestures created
with karma and military orders
us sailing out to sea a quiet vessel
wearing my name on the backside of forever
Written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
Inspired by my residency in Munich Germany
If I could, I would write a love poem that never exist
But exist in the lost mind of the betrayal of love.
If I could, I would stop the movement of the clock,
If I could go to heaven to see God, I would go
On sunday and ask him why men are different from
Women whose brains are always at their back head.
If I could love, I would love pretty ugly women,
If I could marry, I would marry ugly women
So that I won't be able to share my jewel with
Anyone who does not know how to wear his pant.
If I could dream, I would dream like Joseph and
Dance along the earthless edges of the world with smiles.
If I could say yes at the presence of the sun,
I would behold the moon and ask him of my father.
If I could get money, I would be happy and good
But Alas, no amount of money can supplant the sadness I have caused in the presence of my pursuit.
No amount of wondering can rephrase my reneged promises to those children of the butterfly street.
Now chrismas is at the corner of my door waiting,
If I could water her soul and bath her body,
She would be happy to stay in my house and be
My guest; for a night stand with a sister like her is not a sin to the adulterous Romans whose lips are calling me.
If I could, I would stop the Chimpanzees from jubilating and languishing their joyless moods.
If I could, I would call on the rain on those lost daughters of yours whose legs are blindfolding my eyes.
The seasoned soup has watered my palatable stomach and I hope to release my tomorrow to him.
If I could make love to that lady, I would begin from her head.
If I could become a father today, I would be a wise father.
If I could dance I would dance just like David.
i'm somewhere in rome
quite far from home
though many many miles apart
across the sea and into your heart
i send my love and wish for cheer
to abide with you from year to year
Written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
We'd dined in Mozart's cabin
while eating ostrich burgers
catering to the good things
Austria has to offer I supposed
nestled beneath the alps capturing
a glimpse of this ancient fortress
surrounded by music and crafted
muses left over from the empty
bunkers why we found a nook
of gothic folklore and laughter
wholesome, vintage karma,
within the old baroque mannerism
clinging to the country side
entrance as Berchtesgaden seemed
to peek from behind the forest while
riding the Festungsbahn simply
waving back at the lively darkness
Written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
5/4/2022
i'm brown in my color
i'm free in my mind
my spirit soars
my laughter roars
i'm not a ghost i'm the host
this is my fury
it taste of sweet curry
my stars are all in place
my head is pointed at the sun
i know i'm free to run
the joy of africa indeed
the sweet beginning of my colored seed
strong proud and beautiful i'll grow
the sun will shine the moon will glow
my heart feels like a child with toy
i know who i am and that's africa's joy
Written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
9-14-1999 Tampa Florida for
Montel Williams poetry contest
I won again 2003 Fort Myers Florida
she beckoned my soul i sat in fear
nothing to focus on except writing a tear
she busted through the window to her surprise
sitting with me was st john paull 11
suddenly this opened her eyes
it was my identity she was after
her name was jay townsend Johnson
henry i was yolanda but very plain not vain
this thief was after my thoughts
plagerist jane whispered threats
she wanted my song
i expressed to her
id been writing too long
she was from tampa and i chicago
living in tampa and fort myers
jane was vile climbing through
my townhome window ripping pages
from my night stand exposing herself
to my diary quickly she grew obssessed
with my culture in chicago my heritage
with mayor daley cicely tyson 1971
joseph medill school finally lincolns tomb
i studied in springfield illinois 1969
jane was enraged with my identity
for every page i wrote classified who i was
8000 munchen 90 touring of germany
she threatened my life
from guns to poison i sat with my pope
a feeling of purity a since of hope
she would join corruption
fraudulently using my name
threatening me daily
all the same i continued
to write pant and cry
i gather i shall till the day i die
Yasawa Island breeze
covered the coast
I in your rapture
as we danced wildly
through sunsets in Nadi
your smile capture
my essence while
the tides roared along
calm seaside's my heart
sang tropical rhythms
melodies gathered
beneath my toes deep
within the warm sand
laughter rang out over
the coastal waters
hints of mahogany
covered the rapture of us
orange marble stones
we collected caressing
cinnamon colored seashells
Written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen