Spotlighting Pan-African Poetry

Biography

If You Were A Poem

Enlarge poem

Where full stops punctuate your verse,
And your song is expelled as a mournful funeral dirge.

Is your poem suppressed in your soul,
Where your heart is throttled against your throat ?
Does your voice struggle to escape,
The freedom for expression upon a page ?
Are the images in your mind,
Arrested as a sombre starless night ?

If you were a poem,
Where will the metaphor of your existence abode ?
Will it be the bulwark of a wall, solid and strong ?
Or weathered against the brittle brush of disappointment as a person
Wronged ?

Do your eyes scream hysteria ?
Personified as rivers of tears streaming a strained myopia ?
Has your vision been blinded,
By the drudgery of duty to resign she as one who lived then crumbled ?

Are your fingers clenched against teeth that grind ?
Frustration, fury and cruelty aligned ?
With maliciousness informed by despair
Towards all that rendered your fate so unfair ?

If you were a poem,
Will your lines flow in verses free,
Or are your words smeared as ink-stained blotches of sobs and tears ?
Do your tissues lie sodden in a bin,
As you crumple up your page and toss it with abandon ?

You are a poem-
A script to be read and revised as you your story compose.
Your tale does not end as a sordid saga,
Lamenting a life of futile drama.

Bilkis Moola

Featured Poem:

Are the birds singing?

Enlarge poem

And I was right to take my flight.

This bird was from her age expelled,
Wings clipped and murderously repelled.
A spirit torn from her token of expression,
A talisman of doom in a husband of misrepresentation.

Bereft of hope she often spoke
Languorous listing in a burrowed moat.
Moans of sadness would her heart throttle ?
Choking sobs buttressed as in a brothel.

Departure from convential norm was difficult to resist,
Marriage torn and divorce in the crib.
The birth of an entity with an investment in self,
Who dared dispel the myth of she who sits on the shelf.

Merry melody and gurgles of giggles
Resonate rich in goblets of tickles.
Flutes flutter in a steady frenzy-
For wings to flap with urgency.

Jubilant in her journey she charts a cause-
Navigating ambition through discourse.
Of education in lessons on love lost
Despair not and possessed of a courageous plot .

Birds song in their euphony
Sings sentiment sweet in their symphony.
Harmonious is her composition-
Sound in emotion mental disposition.

How does this featured poem make you feel?

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

Comments

  1. beautifully written. Would it be possible to correspond with you concerning some of the lines because I do not fully understand the poem

    Henry

Your email address will not be published.

Biography

Bilkis Moola is an Educator who works as a Head of Department in Languages at a school in Vukuzakhe, a township located in Volksrust, Mpumalanga province, South Africa. Her first anthology of poetry Wounds & Wings evolved as an introspective quest for recovery from her personal narrative of an abusive relationship. Bilkis presently divides her time between professional responsibilities and post-graduate studies in Education.

Bilkis Moola

Biography

Bilkis Moola is an Educator who works as a Head of Department in Languages at a school in Vukuzakhe, a township located in Volksrust, Mpumalanga province, South Africa. Her first anthology of poetry Wounds & Wings evolved as an introspective quest for recovery from her personal narrative of an abusive relationship. Bilkis presently divides her time between professional responsibilities and post-graduate studies in Education.

If You Were A Poem

Enlarge poem

Where full stops punctuate your verse,
And your song is expelled as a mournful funeral dirge.

Is your poem suppressed in your soul,
Where your heart is throttled against your throat ?
Does your voice struggle to escape,
The freedom for expression upon a page ?
Are the images in your mind,
Arrested as a sombre starless night ?

If you were a poem,
Where will the metaphor of your existence abode ?
Will it be the bulwark of a wall, solid and strong ?
Or weathered against the brittle brush of disappointment as a person
Wronged ?

Do your eyes scream hysteria ?
Personified as rivers of tears streaming a strained myopia ?
Has your vision been blinded,
By the drudgery of duty to resign she as one who lived then crumbled ?

Are your fingers clenched against teeth that grind ?
Frustration, fury and cruelty aligned ?
With maliciousness informed by despair
Towards all that rendered your fate so unfair ?

If you were a poem,
Will your lines flow in verses free,
Or are your words smeared as ink-stained blotches of sobs and tears ?
Do your tissues lie sodden in a bin,
As you crumple up your page and toss it with abandon ?

You are a poem-
A script to be read and revised as you your story compose.
Your tale does not end as a sordid saga,
Lamenting a life of futile drama.

Featured Poem:

Are the birds singing?

Enlarge poem

And I was right to take my flight.

This bird was from her age expelled,
Wings clipped and murderously repelled.
A spirit torn from her token of expression,
A talisman of doom in a husband of misrepresentation.

Bereft of hope she often spoke
Languorous listing in a burrowed moat.
Moans of sadness would her heart throttle ?
Choking sobs buttressed as in a brothel.

Departure from convential norm was difficult to resist,
Marriage torn and divorce in the crib.
The birth of an entity with an investment in self,
Who dared dispel the myth of she who sits on the shelf.

Merry melody and gurgles of giggles
Resonate rich in goblets of tickles.
Flutes flutter in a steady frenzy-
For wings to flap with urgency.

Jubilant in her journey she charts a cause-
Navigating ambition through discourse.
Of education in lessons on love lost
Despair not and possessed of a courageous plot .

Birds song in their euphony
Sings sentiment sweet in their symphony.
Harmonious is her composition-
Sound in emotion mental disposition.

How does this featured poem make you feel?

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

If You Were A Poem

Enlarge poem

Where full stops punctuate your verse,
And your song is expelled as a mournful funeral dirge.

Is your poem suppressed in your soul,
Where your heart is throttled against your throat ?
Does your voice struggle to escape,
The freedom for expression upon a page ?
Are the images in your mind,
Arrested as a sombre starless night ?

If you were a poem,
Where will the metaphor of your existence abode ?
Will it be the bulwark of a wall, solid and strong ?
Or weathered against the brittle brush of disappointment as a person
Wronged ?

Do your eyes scream hysteria ?
Personified as rivers of tears streaming a strained myopia ?
Has your vision been blinded,
By the drudgery of duty to resign she as one who lived then crumbled ?

Are your fingers clenched against teeth that grind ?
Frustration, fury and cruelty aligned ?
With maliciousness informed by despair
Towards all that rendered your fate so unfair ?

If you were a poem,
Will your lines flow in verses free,
Or are your words smeared as ink-stained blotches of sobs and tears ?
Do your tissues lie sodden in a bin,
As you crumple up your page and toss it with abandon ?

You are a poem-
A script to be read and revised as you your story compose.
Your tale does not end as a sordid saga,
Lamenting a life of futile drama.

Comments

  1. beautifully written. Would it be possible to correspond with you concerning some of the lines because I do not fully understand the poem

    Henry

Your email address will not be published.