Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Ruhi (My soul) by Brihintha Burggee




You're only a blurred image,
Of smiles, affection and piety
A fragile mirage,
I breathe in every moment.
You are the whisper of every prayer,
From a heart whose longing has left it barren!

My ruhi, my qalbi –
Every night you sneak into my bed,
Thrusting a map from my heart to yours,
Tracing away ancient grief with your fingers,
One detour at a time until dawn breaks in,
And you point to your chest, “This is your home”.

I am lost to handful of mornings,
Jealous of the silence of wakefulness that pulls you away,
Like the ocean teasing the shore only to leave it parched.

Ruhi : Soul
Qalbi: Heart

Friday, March 6, 2015

Feline in Winter by Donal Mahoney



 
Photo by Carol Bales
Some days you think the cat will stay till summer comes, 
this Prodigal Son you've fed for years, this feral cat
who comes and goes and comes again when hunger strikes. 
But he just eats and leaves your porch, 
despite the pillows plumped for a Sultan’s duff. 

He disappears in falling snow 
only to appear again outside your door at dawn, 
his green eyes dancing when he sees you bring 
his mound of kibble, topped with tuna, 
and his bowl of milk. Some days he mounts  

the pillows for a nap. At noon, however, 
he begins to yowl. He wants out again 
to parade triumphant down the walk, 
his tail an exclamation point. He romps 
across the snow and fits beneath the fence. 

He's gone again. Out of sight.
He plans to spend another evening  
where the feral cats hold services.  
They yowl and fight and copulate 
till hunger strikes and then 

this Prodigal Son comes back and sits 
outside your door with tail wound round
and waits for you to bring his kibble,
topped with tuna, and his bowl of milk.
Then, he's gone again. Out of sight.

Thursday, February 12, 2015

Lovers In The Park by Zibusiso Mpofu



 
Image : https://www.facebook.com/MgciniNyoni
They never tangle their feet together
Their words start as if to stop
Always in low monotones, subdued and silent
They always touch briefly
In comfort, conversing with the breeze
As they sit among the quiet Sunday clouds
Their brief touches always set fire to the rapid wind
Engaging the sky and its keepers
Therein lies pleasure and pain, history
First dates, kisses, fights, separations
elevations, secrets, nights and affairs
Pleasure and pain

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