In the 30mm Prime of Life
These are some of my first shots through a Sigma 30mm f1.4 prime lens. It’s a versatile piece of glass and super-nifty for everyday documentary…
Dervish
This is not a dance
Eid Mubarak
Ramadan Photo A Day 2013: Days 21-29
Click here to view the full photo-set.
Ramadan Photo A Day 2013: Days 11-20
Ramadan Photo A Day 2013: Days 1-10
I’ve been contributing to the Ramadan Photo A Day group on Facebook. This year’s themes are based around shared values…
Poems in Other Places
Published in Loop #2 (Tearoom Books) and added to the Badilisha Poetry X-Change…
After Tears
Madiba’s Middle Class Legacy…
Paper-clip Supplications
In prayers, pliant hands…
Social Mediums #1
Tweets
I always watch what I eat. Like when I stare at chocolate cake until it feels uncomfortable and then eat it as a kindness. — saaleha (@saaleha) March 28, 2013
Poets win hearts, not bread and must marry wisely to stay fed. — saaleha (@saaleha) April 11, 2013
— Favourable Flickrings
High Tea at Belle’s Patisserie in Birnam.
Playground battles.
The Realisation of Doughnuts.
Naan.
Wish these came in halaal, Argentinian steak burgers at the Market On Main.
Endless Pools. Jabu Nene Ceramics.
This is how you eat a stroopwafel; the rising steam from the hot coffee softens the wafer and activates the sweet stickiness of the sandwiched stroop.
Colour me cream and scone.
Arabic Lessons in Egypt
Published in Poetry Potion 2013.01.Print Quarterly edition: On Being Human…
Dear Katy
Dear Katy, I was told you are buried in the row, alongside the highway…
New York (pre-Sandy)
My thoughts on this city of cities lay latent on the pages of my notebook…
Istanbul in 6 Hours
I’m posting this seven days after the fact…
Tremor
Woke at 3AM to the windows beating…
Prayer
I seek you out…
Eid Mubarak
Jalebi from Mansoor’s Sweetmeats, Fordsburg 011 838 5613
Growing Bones
Published in Poetry Potion 2012.04 (5th Anniversary Edition) Growing Bones First soft and unknit to mould through mothers to begin this work of hardening frame growing upwards to fall free when six from the top of the world, fracturing fear and breaking in three places casting a school-term in plaster scribbled on in fruit-scented markers. …
Away
And you are like that one thing that’s just out of reach by a hand that can only go as far as a Facebook wall, a box of badges, a good picture on a memory stick. Each day is a day away from when you were here and when you are not.
Moo MiniCard Holders (with cutting file)
I’ve been getting a steady stream of hits since MOO featured my MiniCard-holders in their newsletter and Inspiration gallery. I use their MiniCards to promote ShootCake, my food photography sideline. The MiniCards are really bitty and supercute in that way all diminutive things are. When they were going to be included in the goody-bags at …
It could be verse
A year of poems.
My grandmother breaks her hip
My grandmother says we’ve brought her here to die. Her paranoia probes under our fingernails with a splintered stick, splitting the tissue-beds, prying us apart. We give her pills for our pain. Her cataracts cloud over her unlettered bewilderment. but she can still see old blood on the ceiling of the state hospital. My mother …
Fathers, love your sons
Love them beyond the first fallen tooth, beyond the scrapings of their knees. Love them beyond the breaking of toys beyond the whistling crack of voices. Love them beyond the down on their chins, beyond the girls on their walls. When you can no longer carry them, This is when you must hold them. Love …
The Fare [shortlisted- African Writing Prize for Flash Fiction 2011]
A flash-fiction piece set in Cairo
Home Invasion
A story generated using the Black Box writing technique.
Polycystic
On the monitor I can see the children of my bad-days, the offspring of my ineffective living, clustering like fruit disallowing any real life to root. I have conceived a syndrome a malfunction a sabotage, a betrayal.
Year Four
The fourth year of Bamjee-Mayet.
Down in G’town – Days 4 and 5 – Quick Pics
The course supervisors continued their readings and seminars on Thursday while Friday gave us our first lick of the peer-review/critique-circle experience.
Dear Daddy
(prompted by a free-writing exercise, includes bits of things I’ve written before.) I don’t mind anymore that you died when you did. It was too much for me at 6-years-old, but now, I can take it. It is better that you went when you did. Death elevates, and you are greater for it. …
Down in G’town – Days 2 and 3 – Quick Pics
We spent most of Tuesday on a farm belonging to Robert Berold, one of the course supervisors. It is a generous space and when we weren’t being embraced by the heartening hospitality of our hosts, we filled our time sitting under the trees free-writing.
Down in G’town – Day 1 – Quick Pics
Registration at Rhodes was fairly painless. My Rhodent status is now confirmed by the requisite unflattering likeness fused onto plastic.
The day’s welcomes and introductions left me a with a bit of daylight to take a short photo-walk down Somerset Road.
Katy, until your death feels real to me;
I will chase your ghosts on google, search out your face in every pixel, pocket the sparks your wit threw into the corners.