The dates are hanging
from the trees and I
when reaching for the fruit
now find my hands
have take root
in self-defense against
the mutiny.
An old man fights
to swim the sea of
inhumane humanity
of dogs and cats
and flies and bats
and history brought to its knees.
My feet are set to sing a tune
but when I walk
refuse to move
instead they wander
room to room in
soul-less robbing ministries.
And I, I only aim to
please find me the quickest
route to leave
but I see the metro
has collapsed with
disregard to best-laid plans
of power and money
hand in hand to
rid the arid desertland
of burgeoning democracy.
The dates are hanging
from the trees and I
when reaching for the fruit
now find my limbs
have taken root
in self-defense against

ยฉ Molly Elian 2008

I also wanted to remind everyone that the Brass Crescent Awards are coming up soon, they will open for nominations at the end of Ramadan. They are the reason I got into blogging in the first place and I can only hope one day to see my own blog listed there. InshAllah. But please nominate any and all of the bloggers you feel should be given more publicity, theres many out there writing great blogs.


6 responses to “Dates

  1. MashaAllah, beautiful poem Molly.

  2. masha’allah nice work sis ๐Ÿ™‚

  3. You know me and poetry.


    It’s just nice to read anything you put you down! I love you!! Mom

  4. Tears to the preggie eyes. While not hard to do these days, it was still beautifully written.

  5. beautiful.

    BTW, you’re invited to a dinner party at my blog!

  6. assalamu alaykum… really love the poem ma shaa Allah… and enjoy your blog giiiiidan ๐Ÿ™‚

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