Koko, Williams, and me

By Furqan Ali

I wrote this poem on May 14, 2025, after watching a deeply moving video of Robin Williams (1951–2014) hugging Koko (1971–2018). Somehow, the moment stirred something in me, and I was compelled to write.

Koko was a Western Lowland Gorilla, a critically endangered subspecies. Every year, thousands of these gentle beings are killed due to habitat loss and the illegal bushmeat trade in parts of Africa.

Robin met Koko in 2001, shortly after she had lost her closest gorilla friend, Michael. She hadn’t smiled since his passing. But on this day, with Robin, she laughed freely and fully. And so did he.

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Koko, Williams, and me

We who are left, how shall we look again

Happily on the sun or feel the rain [1]

I did understand the signs—

The hostility trampled on my head,

Nukes with round heads,

And socks with prints of blood.

I liked myself, my poetry,

And so was written thenceforth.

Williams too liked himself.

It was August, and

Maybe May is for me.

Along the fountain of my reckless heart,

Koko was sitting on pine,

And with the adjacent,

he was amusing on juniper.

Making comic faces

To mollycoddle the depression of the scene,

And yet the flow exceeded the fountain

Of ravishing, cute, and mesmerizing love

Towards the one being—

A love with borderless terrains,

Skyless limits, and wordsless intensity,

Though, I never trusted her,

With cold, inexplicable eyes,

And unlit nail paints and lips.

For her I strangled the ticking of the clock.

But my hands are crying;

the world can’t understand my signs,

And caravanserais longing

For another companion.

Koko, Williams, and me.

[1] Gibson