Spotlighting Pan-African Poetry

Biography

A poem for girls once loved

Enlarge poem

This is for the women in my life
in a small way I understand your strife
For my mother
the widow
staring out of bedroom window
hoping the last ray of sunlight will warm the side of the bed that is now empty.
Scared that a smile from a stranger’s visage will strike up a memory long forgotten,
afraid to shed any more tears in the rain as the earth soaks it up
as if meant to wipe the dust off her lovers coffin, six feet under
she wonders,
thoughts on her two bundles of joy
a son with a striking resemblance to his father
and a daughter with no figure to show her what to look for in a man.
For my first love
those girls with hearts broken
by bad boys in leather jackets, with blue jeans and killer smiles.
Bearing scars from the mishap with Cupid’s arrow
and wounds from the guilt of knowing her baby will never know her father.
Struggling with a past that haunts her, a present that taunts her
and a future that is but a mirage on a path she has traveled far too long.
The smile on her baby’s face is the plaster that holds her world together
the break of dawn that signals a new day, a new way
this life she now holds in her arms.
For my sister
the girls who’ve lost hope in fairy tale endings
believing that love can only be found in movies and defining it by what they see in soap operas.
Donned in black, every day is a funeral for chivalry
waiting to pull the plug on romance, widowed by Prince Charming
gone is Mr. Right, can’t see the light
for at the end of the tunnels stands a wall, to stall
any form of progress
in this battle between dependence and independence
victims of a war between past culture and present convictions.
A poem for girls once loved, letting them know that
Love is patient and kind,
love is not jealous or boastful, it is not arrogant or rude
love does not insist on its own way, it is not irritable or resentful
it does not rejoice at wrong but rejoices in the right.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things
Love never ends…

Aziz Mola

Featured Poem:

The Day the Earth Stood Still

Enlarge poem

I want this poem written not on a piece of paper

but in the hearts of those who cared

to read in between the lines

and look underneath the sentences.

This poem is not written by ink but

by the tears that were left unwept

and the blood shed from the pieces

of a broken heart and crippled soul.

This was written at dawn

when the light slowly chases the darkness

and the Grim Reaper roams the earth

in search of spirits weary and weak.

It’s written for those times

those once in a blue moon eras

when the sun shall rise from the west

and the earth shall revolve round the moon.

These are the words of one losing sight

to the beauties this world has to offer

and losing touch with not only reality

but one’s imagination.

That driving force

that made her believe in Cupid’s arrow

the strength of Samson’s hair

dragons, fairies and maiden in distress.

How do you measure infinity

when the formula transcends beyond human understanding?

It could only be compared to this night

when the stars refused to shine

and the moon shed tears

as drops of blood rained on the mortals

Like libations to generations long forgotten

Sacrifice to the gods.

I watched as her body shook

to the tremors of her trembling soul.

The room filled with a deaf man’s silence

that you could hear her heart break.

Not even the warmth of the women

that surrounded her

could melt the coldness of this moment.

She shut her eyes to the world

waiting

waiting for the coldness of the sharp metal

that would tear a piece of herself

and so the earth stood still

as she let out screams of pain

that filled the hospital corridors

the sound that even the dead would dread

hoping that God would descend,

we could feel His presence

Nothing could measure the gravity of the moment

her miscarriage

her baby

only infinity…….

This is the day the earth stood still.

Aziz-Mola

How does this featured poem make you feel?

  • Amazement (2)
  • Pride (2)
  • Optimism (0)
  • Anger (0)
  • Delight (0)
  • Inspiration (3)
  • Reflection (1)
  • Captivation (0)
  • Peace (0)
  • Amusement (0)
  • Sorrow (1)
  • Vigour (0)
  • Hope (0)
  • Sadness (0)
  • Fear (0)
  • Jubilation (0)

Comments

Your email address will not be published.

Biography

Azziz is a poet, music lover, blogger, computer scientist, accountant and entrepreneur. His life purpose is to make the world a better place. He is passionate about inspiring others and mentors the youth in attempt to make them better individuals. In his spare time he is a football fanatic, rugby player and wanna-be singer.

Aziz Mola

Aziz-Mola
Aziz-Mola

Biography

Azziz is a poet, music lover, blogger, computer scientist, accountant and entrepreneur. His life purpose is to make the world a better place. He is passionate about inspiring others and mentors the youth in attempt to make them better individuals. In his spare time he is a football fanatic, rugby player and wanna-be singer.

A poem for girls once loved

Enlarge poem

This is for the women in my life
in a small way I understand your strife
For my mother
the widow
staring out of bedroom window
hoping the last ray of sunlight will warm the side of the bed that is now empty.
Scared that a smile from a stranger’s visage will strike up a memory long forgotten,
afraid to shed any more tears in the rain as the earth soaks it up
as if meant to wipe the dust off her lovers coffin, six feet under
she wonders,
thoughts on her two bundles of joy
a son with a striking resemblance to his father
and a daughter with no figure to show her what to look for in a man.
For my first love
those girls with hearts broken
by bad boys in leather jackets, with blue jeans and killer smiles.
Bearing scars from the mishap with Cupid’s arrow
and wounds from the guilt of knowing her baby will never know her father.
Struggling with a past that haunts her, a present that taunts her
and a future that is but a mirage on a path she has traveled far too long.
The smile on her baby’s face is the plaster that holds her world together
the break of dawn that signals a new day, a new way
this life she now holds in her arms.
For my sister
the girls who’ve lost hope in fairy tale endings
believing that love can only be found in movies and defining it by what they see in soap operas.
Donned in black, every day is a funeral for chivalry
waiting to pull the plug on romance, widowed by Prince Charming
gone is Mr. Right, can’t see the light
for at the end of the tunnels stands a wall, to stall
any form of progress
in this battle between dependence and independence
victims of a war between past culture and present convictions.
A poem for girls once loved, letting them know that
Love is patient and kind,
love is not jealous or boastful, it is not arrogant or rude
love does not insist on its own way, it is not irritable or resentful
it does not rejoice at wrong but rejoices in the right.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things
Love never ends…

Featured Poem:

The Day the Earth Stood Still

Enlarge poem

I want this poem written not on a piece of paper

but in the hearts of those who cared

to read in between the lines

and look underneath the sentences.

This poem is not written by ink but

by the tears that were left unwept

and the blood shed from the pieces

of a broken heart and crippled soul.

This was written at dawn

when the light slowly chases the darkness

and the Grim Reaper roams the earth

in search of spirits weary and weak.

It’s written for those times

those once in a blue moon eras

when the sun shall rise from the west

and the earth shall revolve round the moon.

These are the words of one losing sight

to the beauties this world has to offer

and losing touch with not only reality

but one’s imagination.

That driving force

that made her believe in Cupid’s arrow

the strength of Samson’s hair

dragons, fairies and maiden in distress.

How do you measure infinity

when the formula transcends beyond human understanding?

It could only be compared to this night

when the stars refused to shine

and the moon shed tears

as drops of blood rained on the mortals

Like libations to generations long forgotten

Sacrifice to the gods.

I watched as her body shook

to the tremors of her trembling soul.

The room filled with a deaf man’s silence

that you could hear her heart break.

Not even the warmth of the women

that surrounded her

could melt the coldness of this moment.

She shut her eyes to the world

waiting

waiting for the coldness of the sharp metal

that would tear a piece of herself

and so the earth stood still

as she let out screams of pain

that filled the hospital corridors

the sound that even the dead would dread

hoping that God would descend,

we could feel His presence

Nothing could measure the gravity of the moment

her miscarriage

her baby

only infinity…….

This is the day the earth stood still.

How does this featured poem make you feel?

  • Amazement (2)
  • Pride (2)
  • Optimism (0)
  • Anger (0)
  • Delight (0)
  • Inspiration (3)
  • Reflection (1)
  • Captivation (0)
  • Peace (0)
  • Amusement (0)
  • Sorrow (1)
  • Vigour (0)
  • Hope (0)
  • Sadness (0)
  • Fear (0)
  • Jubilation (0)

A poem for girls once loved

Enlarge poem

This is for the women in my life
in a small way I understand your strife
For my mother
the widow
staring out of bedroom window
hoping the last ray of sunlight will warm the side of the bed that is now empty.
Scared that a smile from a stranger’s visage will strike up a memory long forgotten,
afraid to shed any more tears in the rain as the earth soaks it up
as if meant to wipe the dust off her lovers coffin, six feet under
she wonders,
thoughts on her two bundles of joy
a son with a striking resemblance to his father
and a daughter with no figure to show her what to look for in a man.
For my first love
those girls with hearts broken
by bad boys in leather jackets, with blue jeans and killer smiles.
Bearing scars from the mishap with Cupid’s arrow
and wounds from the guilt of knowing her baby will never know her father.
Struggling with a past that haunts her, a present that taunts her
and a future that is but a mirage on a path she has traveled far too long.
The smile on her baby’s face is the plaster that holds her world together
the break of dawn that signals a new day, a new way
this life she now holds in her arms.
For my sister
the girls who’ve lost hope in fairy tale endings
believing that love can only be found in movies and defining it by what they see in soap operas.
Donned in black, every day is a funeral for chivalry
waiting to pull the plug on romance, widowed by Prince Charming
gone is Mr. Right, can’t see the light
for at the end of the tunnels stands a wall, to stall
any form of progress
in this battle between dependence and independence
victims of a war between past culture and present convictions.
A poem for girls once loved, letting them know that
Love is patient and kind,
love is not jealous or boastful, it is not arrogant or rude
love does not insist on its own way, it is not irritable or resentful
it does not rejoice at wrong but rejoices in the right.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things
Love never ends…

Comments

Your email address will not be published.