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Afroze Ali Poem
It stood on the other side of the wall rooted firmly
for the white bougainvillea tree did not belong to me
Wondered why it always branched this side
paving my walkway with blooms of white
While I patiently waited for my rose bush to flower
it nonchalantly continued its year-long showers
Unbothered unfettered by the gardener’s reaper, it grew
in every direction, old branches shooting off the new
Assiduously each day I tried to broom them away
but they, like a mother’s kisses were always there
Falling softly like advices from an old friend
they were fragile, paper-white, yet persistent
With gentle breeze they glide to me be it summer rain or spring
Innumerable, countless like God’s many blessings.
Copyright © Afroze Ali | Year Posted 2011
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Afroze Ali Poem
Thoughts
beautiful ones
lost in work
all I need now
Imagination
As I stand at the threshold of imagination,
forcing these hallowed gates open,
I enter a magical land.
Soulful poetry flowing everywhere
Precious words crystallize in the air
Soaking it I stand
Ideas blooming on every tree
Creativity buzzing with the bee
I feel a divine hand
I put pen to paper and words fall in place
I have none to thank but heaven's grace.
Forms used: Modern Cinquain, Tail Rhyme & Couplet
Afroze Ali
Date: 5th August 2011
Copyright © Afroze Ali | Year Posted 2011
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Afroze Ali Poem
It was really a simple thing
Four chains holding a large plank
Suspended from the ceiling
A big blue swing
Summer at its peak
Heat touching 45 degrees
Cousins all crammed up
On a large blue swing
Listening to granny’s stories
The distant fan slowly whirring
Laughing and giggling at nothing
On a large blue swing
Plate in hand my brother would sit at its end
Pretending to drive an airplane
Never knew planes did not have steering
On the large blue swing
Sometimes when no one was around
I’d sit on it with outstretched hands
Barely touching both its ends yet feeling like a queen
On a large blue swing
With my favourite cousin sometimes I’d sit
Munching hot salted peanuts
Pouring out our deepest secrets
On a large blue swing
At noon in granny’s lap I’d lie
And listen to her lullaby
Soon asleep, without a worry in life
On a large blue swing
Like the swing her hopes never ran high
She spoke to me of days gone by
Looking beautiful, despite a toothless smile
On a large blue swing.
Today it is no more there
With grandma it slowly passed away
But memories still remain
On the large blue swing.
Copyright © Afroze Ali | Year Posted 2011
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Afroze Ali Poem
On an old bicycle, he pedals the streets
finding a steady supply of following feet
"Here comes the balloonwalla", in unison they scream
clamoring for the balloon of their dreams
Each one gets one at rupees five a piece
leaving a tiny little pair of hands empty
Just when tears well up disappointment droops
the balloonman with a flourish, downward stoops
Pulls out a little piece of blue with a twinkle in his eye
happiness smiles end to end as the balloon grows as big as the sky
Tiny hands cannot grab the big blue thing
so he ties it to the little finger with a string.
Afroze Ali
date: July 19th 2011
For Francine's contest 'Happiness is a balloon'
(the Balloonwalla is a man who sells balloons, on his bicycle is attached a pump to blow the balloons.)
Copyright © Afroze Ali | Year Posted 2011
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Afroze Ali Poem
God bursts everywhere…
Smile of a child
Twinkle of an eye
Surge of a wave
Silence of a grave
Bloom of a flower
Unseasonal showers
Kindness of the heart
Purity of a thought
Every drop of sunshine
Some poems of mine
Starkness of the night
Forgiveness after a fight
God bursts everywhere…
In the green of the woods
In the ‘G’ of the good
Moments of fear
Heads bowed in prayer
Every bite of chocolate
Ghalib’s* every couplet
Serenity of soul
Oneness of a goal
Bonding with friends
Concern of parents
Sweat of toil
Whiff of wet soil
God bursts everywhere…
Tears of solitude
Courage of fortitude
Vibrance, music, words
In organized and absurd
Dreams, hopes, love, compassion…
Humming tunes and quiet conversations,
Even after my days are done
This poem will forever go on
A verse could be added each day
Because God bursts everywhere.
*Mirza Ghalib was a great urdu poet.
Copyright © Afroze Ali | Year Posted 2014
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Afroze Ali Poem
"this poem is not about what is written,
but what is not written. . . "
Firmly rooted, I stand in this desert of nothingness
Facing your wrath and warmth with equal willingness
Life around me moves ahead, passes me by
Scorpions, birds and occasionally a butterfly
You gave me all the power to bear fruit, nurture and shade
Yet my entire life passes standing stoically in one place
The wind nudges me, taunts me as it blows
I still stand there unmoved, head shamefully bowed
The leaves that greened with me too flew away
Eloped with the breeze in autumn, left me betrayed
The fruits that I had worked hard to bear
The flowers that graced my wavy hair
With time, these too were snatched away from me,
No reason why I still stand barren and empty.
My bark reverberates with the melancholy of my soul
Waiting for lightning to wield its shining sword.
Afroze Ali
Contest name: 'The unwritten'
5th July 2011
Copyright © Afroze Ali | Year Posted 2011
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Afroze Ali Poem
Will you come to the great tamarind’s shade
When the noon sun sends cupid with its rays
To play hide and seek with every grass blade
I watch the path with a relentless gaze
Come my love for the world is in a daze
Wear not your anklets as you come my dear
Walk in discreet silence come have no fear
Will you come to the quick footed river
When the full moon lamp is vividly lit
yet in the clouds it seems to disappear
my feet in stream, I shall silently sit
holding a long bamboo flute to my lips
wear not jhumkas tonight, they interfere
with the tune I play only for your ears
Will you come to that broken bullock cart
when dusk lowers its veil down to the field
we shall then talk of matters of the heart
and bite gently into sugar cane's yield
till our lips meet in love and softly sealed
Wear not your coyness leave it far behind
A heart full of love you will surely find.
*jhumkas are long bell shaped earrings often worn by women in the Indian countryside.
Afroze
For 'Romanticism in rime Royal'
Copyright © Afroze Ali | Year Posted 2014
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Afroze Ali Poem
Between the sun and the moon
is a dimming, starless sky
filled with hues of contemplation.
She knows the time will come too soon,
so she holds a silent conversation
before she bids her horse good bye.
Copyright © Afroze Ali | Year Posted 2015
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Afroze Ali Poem
Hands that touched the soil
as one would touch a child
Hands that caressed the fields
with a gratifying smile
Hands that worked the hardest
from morn until sunset,
hands that joined in prayer
Wishing a greener harvest
Hands that fed millions
sowed, reaped…gathered
Hands that tilled the earth
that now stands barren
Hands that shielded the eyes
as the relentless sun scorched
Hands that sought out water
hoping against all hope
Helpless hands stare in despair,
open palms can do no more,
lines of fate are clearly drawn
on the parched earth below.
contest name:With these hands
Visual #5
Copyright © Afroze Ali | Year Posted 2013
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Afroze Ali Poem
So many times I wished to write about them
but never had the courage to lift a pen,
could words ever describe their smiles
specially when they're hiding a surprise,
could words ever describe the joy
I feel, when they hug me tight,
could words ever describe my pride
when they walk up to receive a prize,
could words ever describe how my heart breaks
when they fall, yet pretend to be brave,
I could never put in words the prayer I say
each time they leave home for school or play,
could words ever describe the warmth I feel
when I stand by the bed and watch them sleep,
arguing, talking, crying, laughing being together
words could never describe the joys of being a mother...
Copyright © Afroze Ali | Year Posted 2011
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