About my work

My work is now inspired by the poets Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Emily Bronte and John Keats to name a few.  I began my creative work with writing song lyrics. In the 1980's I gained an A Level in English, and then turned my attention to poetry.

I won a runner up  prize  for an essay on Peace in the early 1980's and launched  my writing work with the motivation gained by this prize.

I got a favourable comment from a professional writer for a poem on the Virgin Mary and won a runner up prize for a poem written in the Spanish Language entitled "El Fuente".

Born in Nairobi, Kenya I had to leave my homeland (my natural mother was a coastal Kenyan) in 1969 at the age of 16. I stayed for a brief period in Nigeria at the time of the civil war. I also stayed in Jamaica for about four years. My father (of Iranian origin) had gained a teaching contract there at a High School. My brief stay in Nigeria was my first close hand experience of civil war.

I came to Reading UK in 1974, and have lived here ever since. I am qualified in AAT Accounts at Technician Level, although my work was in customer service.

Other than accounts, I am also schooled in Literature. This includes course credits in The Bronte’s, Shakespeare as well as in Literary Theory, gained from Oxford University at their Continuing Education department.

I began with writing crime fiction, as a result of reading a lot of this type of genre; my favorites are still Raymond Chandler, Dorothy L Sayers, and the Alfred Hitchcock mysteries. I now write poetry, being influenced by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, John Keats, T S Eliot and Emily Bronte.

I now concentrate on writing poetry. My poetry has mainly been “message” poetry concerning social issues, but recently I have broadened my scope to write with three types of poetic structure with a few different genres.

I have to add that most of my poetry has the "invisible hand" of Emily Bronte guiding it.  In other words Emily Bronte is the one major poet that influences my poetry.

Occasionally I write non-fiction essays. However, the vast majority of these essays are my political views written from a Marxist perspective.  These appear on another website.

From the Briefcase:

Poetry

The Rent

Poem:

A Delicate Being

Dream Girl

I’m floating as in a dream

Scents of rose blossoms, everywhere

She appears, my beauty queen

Like a mirage. Then she will disappear

She haunts my night, my day

I hear her words of love

All along life’s lonesome highway

She remains my golden dove

She stands by me, all along

All through the days, and years

With her, I have no fears

My princess; she does no wrong

Yet all through please understand

She’s an image in a foreign land

© “Dream Girl” by Hasan Abdulla, 07/2016

Sailboat

The sailor, opening his drink

Sips his bottle of soda, he’s thinking

About a sailboat he had seen sink

Gazing at the sunset, he’s mourning

Remembers the parties on the boat

Always it sailed, always afloat

Pangs of sorrow, that are emerging

The sailor, opening his drink

Looks back at the past

Some things would always last

Tries not to be pitying

Sips his bottle of soda, he’s thinking

Of many an ocean liner

Yet none lovely and finer

Remembers as he takes his drink

About a sailboat, he had seen sink

The coast was warm that day

Strong winds blew its way

The sailboat drowned. Remembers sombrely

Gazing at the sunset, he’s mourning

© “Sailboat” by Hasan Abdulla, 07/2016

A Day at Work?

On a bright Sunday morning

Opening a door to a garden

The sun is hot, and rising

The flowers bloom everywhere

And church bells are chiming

On a bright Sunday morning

Life is still a burden

Going out today to work

Opening a door to a garden

The morning is long and tiring

With lunch, sipping a cold lemonade

The sun is hot, and rising

© “A Day at Work?” by Hasan Abdulla, 07/2016

The River Nile

By the waters of the Nile

Quiet, calm and serene

I paused to rest awhile

In an oasis of evergreen

Along the river flowing gentle

Watching the dhows glide

I felt of a stronger mettle

And I felt a peace inside

Watching the ripples of the water

Eating the fruit of dates

Warm and content, and later

Returning to the hotel gates

The sun slowly set, all the same

Nightfall came, a soft spell

The morning after, the time

For the return flight then came

Looking back and I mourn

The loss of that sojourn

© “The River Nile” by Hasan Abdulla, 09/2016

Poem:

Summertime

Wheat grows high; golden brown

Warm winds on the prairie

Like caresses of nature’s hands

Sunshine glows on the lands

The cotton buds in bloom

Gaiety in each house, each room

Flowers grow bright and colourful

Gone are the gremlins, no more trouble

Skies of blue, clear and light

A canopy of pure delight

Children playing, old men singing

While my banjo is playing

Country roads, quiet and serene

Green grass, trees full of leaves

With birds and nests; like a dream

And the best that’s ever been

© “Summertime” by Hasan Abdulla, 09/2016

More Poems:

A Flight

Rome, capital of Italy

Flying there on a plane

Away from life so lonely

I’ll go where stops the pain

For I love with strong passion

A dark eyed glamorous girl

I love her with strong devotion

Stronger than stones of pearl

The departure lounge is restive

My heart is light, festive

Flying to Rome, to Italy

So ends a life of drudgery

Away from cloudy skies; persistent rain

To be with the light of my life again

© “Excursion” by Hasan Abdulla, 07/2016

Condor

A condor, flying; cruising across the sky

Gigantic; searching for fertile pasture

Majestic; to vie with, we can only venture

Across the Orinoco, and the Atacama

Over the Andes; Only it knows why

A condor, flying; cruising across the sky

Long is the journey to travel

The mysteries, it can unravel

Gigantic; searching for fertile pasture

At long last, it’s journey’s end

Fertile pasture, as only God can send

Majestic; to vie with, we can only venture

© “Condor” by Hasan Abdulla, 07/2016

Summertime

Wheat grows high; golden brown

Warm winds on the prairie

Like caresses of nature’s hands

Sunshine glows on the lands

The cotton buds in bloom

Gaiety in each house, each room

Flowers grow bright and colourful

Gone are the gremlins, no more trouble

Skies of blue, clear and light

A canopy of pure delight

Children playing, old men singing

While my banjo is playing

Country roads, quiet and serene

Green grass, trees full of leaves

With birds and nests; like a dream

And the best that’s ever been

© “Summertime” by Hasan Abdulla, 09/2016

Spring

There are flowers everywhere

Fresh, milder breezes blow

Spring is here; magic in the air

Bluebells, daffodils and delphiniums

Roses, water lilies and rhododendrons

There are flowers everywhere

Winds are calmer, and warmer

Melting away the ice and snow

Fresh, milder breezes blow

Expressions of delight, and relief

In the hearts of people, the belief

Spring is here; magic in the air

The River Margin

By Hasan Abdul

Down by the river’s edge

Waters flowing very smoothly

Green is the leafy hedge

Ripples on the waters plenty

Here I toss my blanket

And get my feet wet

Love is so fleeting

It’s the same old story

We drift apart after meeting

Here is where love begins

And ends on the river margin

Here by the waterside

I met a lover for my bride

But now she is far away

Where she is, no one can say

Now the trees look down

The river banks muddy brown

Skies once so blue

Now with a purple hue

Here is a love story

Told by lovers so many

Here is where love will begin

And end at the water margin

Oxford Memories

By H Abdul

City of the University

Of the oracle of knowledge

With many a notable vestige

Of poets, and a diversity

Of future leaders, national and abroad

They came and educated their selves

For statesmanship, and a lot else

Oxford where one is never bored

City of the church spires

Where to walk on the streets

The visitor never tires

And exploring the treats

The famous libraries, the parks

The Bodleian library, Christchurch College

City of scholars, not dunces without sparks

City to gain experience, and knowledge

© “Oxford Memories” by Hasan Abdulla, 2017

By those shores

By H Abdul

By the shores of that great Lake

Where I once dipped my feet

Enjoyed candy floss, a treat

The images remain, a memorabilia

Still have them, for old time sake

Lake Victoria, on its shores

The boats, dinghies and trawlers

Anchor at the edge of the waters

Lake Victoria, that one explores

And takes a ride on the steamers

A perfect retreat for dreamers

Alas, the great freshwater Lake

On the corners of Kisumu

The waters are now soiled, not blue

Its glory we cannot take

The scientists now raise the alarm

No safety or rest for wildlife

Environmental degradation is rife

We cannot now stay calm

Oh for the joys of the past

So certain the Lake was intact

Let the fresh waters last

Oh, let us make a silent pact

To renew the Lake to its glory

To make it a cause for poetry

Oh let the wildlife flourish

Why should we let it perish?

© “By those shores” by Hasan Abdulla, 2017