Tag Archive: poet afzal moolla


I remember her beret,

on that rainy day at the bus-stop, 


she said that she had grown tired of the pretences this world demanded,


we spoke of Marx and she smiled, for I was much younger then, wearing it all on my sleeve,


she smiled, and we spoke till she had to leave.


we met at that bus-stop many times more,


sharing our laughter, our pain, of the knots that cut deep into our core,


she always wore her beret and she was fierce, brave and steadfastly traversing the murky waters of being a wage-slave,


we promised each other we wouldn’t be like the rest, not even in our grave,


ah but that was many moons back, when life was starkly coloured white and black,


I wonder where she could be now, and I hope she is as she was back then,


when everything wasn’t just about love and light and being zen,


I wonder too were we to perchance meet, would she pull me close out of the grime stained street,


or would she walk on by, leaving me to my own devices,


after decades of being whittled down, after making all the right choices … … …

​on your skin, scribbling odes to love,
angry, lost, empty,

raucous, pristine, encompassing love.
on my heart, scribbled odes embossed, etched, engraved,
yearning, pining, aching,
for you … … …


destiny

fate


somewhere

someplace


alfoat on honeydew petals


mere strands


filaments


years trickling through

fingertips


lost whispers

dreamed caresses


awake

alive …



smouldering

ablaze in the cauldron


of


destiny

fate


of convergent wisps

sprinkling kisses


on your

honeydew lips


we shall always be many more

we who roast in your designer factories

our brows dripping salty sweat

we who forgive but shall never forget


we shall always be many more

we reek of cheap moonshine

we stagger and often stumble

our stomachs never ceasing to rumble


we shall always be many more

we polish your fine bone china

our pay gets docked if a cup gets chipped

our children to wars get shipped


we shall always be many more

we clean up after your pretty children

our kids are hungry, naked and callously swept

into bowels of desolation, as mothers’ tears are wept


we shall always be many more

we do your dirty work every day

you treat us like vermin, foul and rotten

our dignity always forgotten


we shall always be many more

we will rise up, seizing the standard of hope

reclaiming what is common for daughters and sons

always squarely in the cross-hairs of your guns


we shall always be many more

and there shall be many more of us to come

to rid you of your smug arrogance, endless greed

yes we too have children we have to feed


we shall always be many more

‘and the meek shall inherit the earth’

or something like that though we no longer care

for we shall rise up demanding our common share


we shall always be many more … … …


( with thanks to Ken Loach’s film ‘Tierra y Libertad’

breathless … …

​breathless, laboured

               tortured


each breath

                     swallowed


greedily gulping gasping


each breath

                    stolen

                               without you

​your fingers

mine


sketching dreams

scribbling hopes


my fingers

yours


holding back

resistant


knowing the path ahead

littered with thorns


oblivious

knowing


the path ahead must be walked


alone at times 

but never lonely 


not with you by my side

evoking a belonging felt true and deep


inside

these interwoven veins

dna

double-helixed


microscopically

binding


me

you


us

all


through

this common

shared

truth:


‘I am because you are’*


all of us

together

as one


me

you …


… uBuntu*




  


* – uBuntu is an isiXhosa/isiZulu concept that espouses the “belief in a universal bond of sharing that connects all humanity”

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