Slaying is On My Mind

I thought to myself

50 plus poems about me, what is one more?

So, now that I have acknowledged my self-love

Let's dive into this poem

Sometimes

When I close my eyes

A beautiful image rises

Of a made-up face

Flawless, snatched

The kind I imagine would attract a gaze

Or two

She looks good boo

I say to myself

The eyes are the colour of the sky

A shimmer and a matte

Catching the light just right

They are hooded by curly and dramatic falsies

Crowned by well-gelled penciled brows

And boy can those lashes fly!

These black wings are flying high

In this vision,

My face is a mask

Golden undertones and eye-catching highlights

Who is this girl?

She is me but she is not me

Gasp!

The lips are glam,

Peachy and shiny like candy

I bet they taste like gum

Fresh, sweet and bang!

In this half-dream

A mustard jumpsuit hugs my figure politely

Showing off some collar bone and one shoulder

It is well-trimmed and pristine

Something a drag queen would kill to own

Down south

Is a snakeskin clear mule heel

The toe is pointed, classy and ideal

What more can a girl ask for?

Up north

I’m wearing a sleek bun

Something only you could see on a Vogue magazine

And to wrap it all up is a pair of statement gold earrings with pearls

I look good, I feel like a star

In reality

A full made-up face doesn’t seem right

A designer mustard jumpsuit is many many dollars away

Clear mule heels I’ve got, they aren’t snakeskin though

Sometimes, I almost achieve that sleek bun on my natural hair

I have statement gold earrings, but I need new ones!

I am a material girl

But unless I win the lotto

I have a million other things to do before I fully invest in slaying

So, for now, I am content to slay on the inside

Before I can slay on the outside as per my dream

It’s The Lessons That Matter

I loved the stuff that makes romantic novels ROMANTIC!

My favourite was a rustic scenery,

Featuring a rough somewhat handsome enigmatic cowboy,

Who was aloof, sad on the inside and hard on the outside,

He loved his horse better than he loved human beings.

Yes, he had been hurt,

But,

Right under his nose was the damsel who was going to rescue him,

Only he didn’t know it!

And once the rescuing was done and the dating began,

Fire-lit lovemaking on the floor was ten times more intriguing than candle-lit hanky panky in the sheets,

Yes, I lived for romance novels once,

When men, love, and the jiggy jiggy were all a mystery to me.

In retrospect,

I wish I had stayed in that naivety,

But I have to convince myself that it is the lessons that matter,

Because maybe they do

A broken heart mends, but it remains scarred forever.

That is the first lesson to love, it’s the risk of immersing yourself in the oh-so-sweet fever.

Second lesson: never give your all to someone,

For those like me that love with everything they have, we will always hurt the hardest.

Keeping your expectations realistic is the third lesson,

Hard work and the acceptance of flaws keep the fire of real love burning.

Yet,

Trouble can get in the way of real love if you don’t know who you are without your partner,

And that makes the fourth lesson: know who you are.

Similar to this is finding happiness within yourself,

Depending on your partner for happiness is ridiculous!

The problem with fictional love is the concept that love can fix people.

If you cannot have an alcoholic boyfriend, then do not date one,

It is that simple!

Thinking that you can love him and try to change him in the process is madness,

Only he can change himself, remember that!

The media has sold us a lot of lies,

Sadly, we’ve eaten them up without thinking twice,

From don’t date a man who cheats and borrows your money

to a man that doesn’t buy you romantic dinners doesn’t deserve you.

Young women have entered the dating scene with extremely high expectations,

Only to find out that men do not have superpowers.

They are weak, clueless at times, and broke other times.

Just like you, they are HUMAN,

Just like you, they make mistakes,

Just like you, they are trying to save and cannot afford luxury dinners at all times.

My point here is not to let men off the hook,

My point is to tell women to wisen up,

Lower your expectations,

Better yet, don’t expect what you cannot bring to the table yourself!

And so, as my heart heals,

It whispers to me the lessons it has learned,

It reminds me how far I’ve come.

Also, it finds folly in my previous way of thinking,

The things I took for granted, the desires I yearned.

Besides cultivating forgiveness, caution, and happiness,

My heart has one major purpose,

To help me in becoming the best version of myself,

With the hope that my future partner is doing the same!

Sober Up

That high that only you can give,
Whose embers danced in my eyes,
Is slowly dying in the cold wind you blow,
and the showers that pour from my injured soul.
So as the calls and texts that go unanswered pile up,
I reluctantly sober up.

It's not like you have moved to another town,
Loved someone else or forgotten my heart,
Rather, you are who you are,
Sometimes detached for reasons known and unknown,
Sometimes connected, open, and vulnerable.
Still, I can't help but dial down the light,
Harden myself to my feelings of you,
Lest I drown and completely lose myself,
So I sober up.

Funny how it finally seemed like things were getting better,
Like it was guaranteed happiness forever,
Where longing, dreaming, and hoping would end,
And turn to the beautiful reality I am sure we are destined.
But now I can see the price that a woman has to pay,
For being emotional, sensitive, and in need of constant attention,
Because I have sobered up.

Looking into the future,
I can see you in my life's picture,
For I know you are mine for eternity,
But I fear I will be lonely forever,
As something keeps holding you back,
Denying me the satisfaction,
Of knowing how it feels like to be completely loved.

Hmmm

Silly, silly, silly me
To think that a love like this could be normal
While its nothing but normal.
When I first came across your profile pic,
I knew I had stumbled upon the love of my life.
I remember it well, that profile pic
'Twas black and white,
You wore a tire, with your head held up high,
Such a confident man, such beautiful eyes, such delicious lips, I thought.
Yes,
It was love at first sight,
And even though we were strangers, neither age mates nor living in the same city,
I knew I wanted your babies.

Surely,
What we have is different and unique
However, your soul mirrors mine,
Like we are a match made in heaven
Nay, we are a match made in heaven.

Still,
I have been more romantic than you have
I have opened up myself to our love more than you have
I have loved you to bits, I still love you to bits
And I have let go of my pride and stubborn nature for you.
Unfortunately,
You have done neither of these things for me
Which is why, I am sober now

DOWNWARD SPIRAL

Time and time again,
Love has been picked, poked, cut open, stitched up, torn open again,
Examined and reexamined.
It has been weighed against fame, careers, ambitions, money.
Alas!
It has been found to weigh so much less.
Hence, it's failure.

So like most women before me,
I analyzed love subjectively,
I weighed it against my goals, my career......
Hell! I weighed it against everything that put food on my table,
Clothes on my back, boots on my feet,
Confidence on my hip, money in my wallet, and peace on my mind.
Imagine my comfort at discovering it's negligible value!
Love was suddenly meaningless, useless,
Unworthy of my egotistical heart, too silly to feed my clever mind.

And so,
Love fell from the top of the list, to the bottom of the well,
Down below in the still darkness,
Where it joined retirement, old age and death,
Tragedies I would deal with, hopefully -
NEVER.

I TOOK FLIGHT

I was crawling through hell's pit,
The darkest corner where nothingness and evil sit,
The dullest hole where hopelessness feeds on young souls.
In the foulest, scariest, loneliest, and bitterest of places you can imagine,
There I lay my head.

I was seeing nothing but doom.
Feeling nothing but my pain.
Knowing nothing but the mortal promise..
Hearing nothing until IT was played..
And so I began to see again,
to feel all emotions my human senses could manage,
To know all that I had buried in my subconscious mind,
For suddenly, I took flight.

The tune was mellow and bright,
Every stroke bore depth and a wealth of magic.
The voice was like that of a heavenly Angel: perfect, soft, and powerful.
I was slowly dragged by each beat from the darkest, foulest, scariest, loneliest, and bitterest of places you can imagine.
I was hopeless but it mattered not for I had a song.
I was bitter, but I had a song.
I was lonely, but the song became my companion.
I was fearful, but with the song I was braver.
I was mortal, but the song made me alive.
Oh how I loved that song! The song that saved me.

By and by,
I grew a pair of wings,
And made my ascent with a vigor I had never known.
Behold,
I was the woman from hell's pit,
Raised by a song,
Towards heaven's light.
Only imagine my delight!
Only imagine what I had escaped!
Only imagine what I constantly escape,
By playing a song or THE song whenever darkness looms.
For this world is dark sometimes.
But with a song, it is brighter.

Life Pangs! Life Gaps!

It's the hunger of want that drives man,
A pursuit of nothing that makes me almost mad.
Is it not nothing?
This life we are living?
The things we keeping wanting?
The people we are endlessly loving?
Yet, we must keep wanting, living, loving....
How detestable!
I can almost hear the gods mocking,
Mocking the joke that is human life.
How expendable we are!
How important we pretend to be!

Still,
Wanting is all we can do.
Each day I wake up with a want.
Today I thought, I want a man, handsome, influential, confident, strong....HIM.
The same man I wanted yesterday, the same man I will want a year from now!
And when I have him I will want something else,
I will always want to my very last breath!
However,
I would rather I never wanted anything or anyone...
I want a good life, material things, a legacy......
How I hate myself for wanting!
And what a purpose I find in wanting!

But of what good is wanting?
Of what importance is living?
What is the end-game really?
Don't you sometimes feel like we are in something incomplete?
Like we were the process of a trial and error? A notion that went wrong?
A good idea that was not so good after all?
Does life not feel like a game where we are not the players?
Does it not all feel like nothingness?
We are simply at some higher power's will,
A higher power that made an error!
I wonder if we have not been left on our own;
We were a failure... Who wants anything to do with failure?
So perhaps we have imagined ourselves into being!
Perhaps we have imagined ourselves into wanting!

Life pangs I tell you!
The hunger that never ends.
Low-life humans,
The scum that always bends,
To nature's ruthless will!
Yet,
What is nature?
What really is life?
What is the beginning, where is the end?
Forget the primitive definitions man has attempted to create.
Forget the religion that holds us captive.
Think,
Why should we want?
Why should we live?
Why are we here?
For whose amusement are we here for?
What is the objective?
But our wanting somehow keeps us from answering these questions.
Each day we toil to achieve our wants.
But what do we get for our efforts?
Death and nothingness.

I always thought school was hard until I met life!
I now wonder, what grade am I working to achieve?
For nothingness is all we get.
We love, we want, we live,
And nothingness is all we get!
We look for happiness
Yet,
What does it mean to be happy if it never lasts?
What does it mean to live if we are mortal?
Life pangs and life gaps I tell you,
Such horrible reflections!

Nothing Can Save Me Now

You were my Knight in shining armor,
You saved me, you made me.
You captured my heart, my soul,
My everything.
You were my sole source of light,
And you still are, every day and every night.
I knew then as I know now,
Nothing can save me.

Caught in your snares,
Enthralled in your masculine wares,
I am the fool that fell,
I am the clown that keeps falling.
I am forever following your baritone bell.
I am forever seeking your expensive musk,
Enticed by your carefree nature.
Truly,
Nothing can save me now.

I built castles around your eyes,
I threw caution to the wind,
And chose to allow me be bound.
I thought, nothing good comes easy.
And even when he suffocates me, pushes me to the edge,
I know that no one can save me.

He was my savior,
I can expect no other.
I have learnt to channel the hurt, it is no longer a bother.
And perhaps when things get better,
When his love is deep inside me,
When his love is so bright I cannot see,
I will shed a tear or two,
Thinking how glad I am that nothing can save me!

Crazy In Love

The darkness of love she felt,
So strong like a tight belt.
It was eating away at her soul,
So much like a mole,
Eats away at the flesh.
She wanted the light,
But she was too far gone in the dark,
Too taken, too smitten.
She was weak in love,
She was blind in love.
She had loved him as she had loved herself,
And now,
She was paying the price.

The love demon kept calling,
Her lonely heart kept going.
Was love not supposed to be a good thing? She wondered trudging on.
Yet,
What do they say about too much of a good thing?

The darkness beckoned her to a place,
Where she mused on something grave.
The cold is for the bold,
And she was bold, with a soul that was sold.
She could hurt herself, scrape the pain away with a blade like it were dirt.
She could take two pills or three, and silently teleport to a different place.
The truth was,
She was hurting,
And only a similar hurt could cure her!

Shairi Njoo

Shairi njoo, shairi njoo,
Mara nyingi kwangu mawazo yaja kwa Kiingereza, Kiswahili sasa nimeamua kujieleza.
Tangu nitoke skuli, Kiswahili niliweka kando,
Usidhani nikakidharau, La!
Mbali Kiingereza nikapenda.

Shairi njoo, Shairi njoo,
Utamu wa lugha umezidi, usifikiri Kiswahili sitamani,
Usidhani shairi siwezi tunga, usidhani la kusema siwezi pata.

Shairi njoo, shairi njoo,
Mapenzi, huzuni, dini, gani shairi nitaandika?
Mawazo ninayo, kalamu ninayo,
Lakini utajiri wa lugha kidogo umepungua, kamusi basi nitahitaji

Shairi njoo, shairi njoo,
Shairi ninayo, ngoja kidogo vitenzi nijikumbushe.
Methali pia niangalie, vitabu pia nisome.
Shairi laja, shairi laja,
Hivi punde!

Tall Fella

Hello there, tall fella.
Such a tall drink of water you are,
That if I had you, I should never be thirsty!
How sculptured! How tuned!
Like an acapella.
Such height, I could actually climb you! Such a delight you are to look at, like an ancient god, equivocal and intimidating!

Hey there, tall fella.
I strain my neck, to see the color of your eyes.
You make me feel like a child when you pass me by.
Oh, my!
How you momentarily offer shade,
When you pass me by!

Yo! Tall fella,
It must be a wonderful view from up there.
You probably hardly see me, down here.
This is fine, for your giraffe legs do intimidate me greatly,
Your athletic torso does make me catch my breath insanely.
I want you, but as a piece of art to possess.
I need you, but as a fantasy to pass a lonely day.
Tall fella, you are the kind of man I want, but naturally, do not want!

Only imagine the awkwardness;
How would we walk together in the streets?
Such an effort it would be to have a conversation if we meet!
How often I underestimate eye contact,
Until I meet a fella whose eyes are below the clouds!

I hereby shake off the 'tall, dark, and handsome fever.'
I hereby embrace a bit tall, chocolate, and handsome!

Who Am I?

I am a woman grown,
With hips wide, plenty of room for a growing foetus.
A bosom big, for a lover's head,
A heart large, with love for all humanity.
I am a woman strong,
With a soft core, vulnerable and weak.
With tears deep, a sea to drown earth's cares.
I am a woman strong,
I hurt, I fail, I never quit.
I am a woman strong,
For I have done wrong,
Twice, thrice, a dozen times,
I have loved my flaws,
I have freed myself,
Because,
I am a woman bold,
I hold my head up high,
I mold myself into a better person,
I never lie.
Honesty is my policy,
Decency is my code.

I am a woman selfless,
I give, give, and never stop giving.
I serve my husband, I serve my children, I serve society....
Yet, I never tire.
I blossom in selflessness.
I glow in submissiveness.
I give up my needs, I put my loved ones first.
I am a woman jealous,
I am bitter at another woman's success,
I compete to be the best mum, to have the best kids, to have the wealthiest man...
I am never contented!
I want to be, but this is my flaw,
A curse I never wanted.

I am not a woman feminist,
I accept the second place naturally given to women,
I accept to be submissive to a man who deserves it,
I accept to let him lead, to let him be the man,
I accept to nurse, raise my kids, cook, clean.....
I accept to be a woman, a helper, a giver of life.
I do not accept domestic violence,
I detest female genital mutilation,
I am against harassment of any kind to a woman.
I encourage a voice for all, fairness for all.
But,
The bonds of family are breaking,
The more women chase after equality,
The more responsibilities they get.
Remember,
A woman is the foundation of family,
And so,
If she is out handling other responsibilities,
The family will fall.
Equality is misleading, do you dig?
Men and women are different, do you dig?
But,
I am a woman of my own opinion,
I like the old fashioned way,
Simple, religious, clear as day.
Let those women with time to waste battle for equality,
While I, sit back and enjoy the love of family.

I am a woman bound,
To loyalty, trust, honesty,
The High Law.
I am a woman restless,
With dwindling patience,
Sometimes.

I am a woman lonely,
With secrets deep that can be shared not.
I am a woman broken,
With a hollow that has been left unfilled.

I am a woman intuitive,
I trust my gut, it never leads me astray.

I am this woman now, tomorrow I will be gray.
I bring the good into tomorrow,
The bad I leave behind.
Yet, some things, like my shadow, will forever be with me.

I am a woman mortal,
Who will I be,
When it's all over?

With my eyes closed....

With my eyes closed, happiness came unbidden.
Like the sun at the crack of dawn,
Warm and promising.

With my eyes closed,
I painted love in all its gladness,
Orange and yellow hues,
Warm and bold.

With my eyes closed,
Loneliness ceased.
I found warmth in companionship,
As a cub finds family in a pride.

With my eyes closed,
My tears flowed,
As a light rain falls while the sun shines on.

With my eyes closed,
I was in Eden;
In place of Eve, was me, the helper, to a handsome man,
With skin as dark as ebony.

With my eyes closed,
I saw a Ram and a Crab among the stars,
United forever.

With my eyes closed,
I was whole, complete,
Like a solved crossword puzzle.

With my eyes closed,
Dreams and reality were one,
As if I had been ferried to the future.

With my eyes closed,
Destiny was made clear,
Decisions were made here.

With my eyes closed,
I was love, I was loved.
I gave life.

Hope died…..

Hope died in my bed last night,
As I lay in a frightful dream,
Strangled and suffocated by bed linens,
Feeling my headache from afar,
Loving the sleep, hating the dream,
I could have risen, but in this film I was stuck,
For hours, or minutes, I know not,
With each changing frame, Hope died.
I thought it a premonition, then a warning, lastly a silly dream, either way, Hope had died

What a beautiful sad death it was!
Tucked in satin sheets with a soft pillow to lay my aching head,
A thick mattress to absorb my daytime fatigues, my worldly cares, and my physical needs.
If only it could have taken the dream away.
But dreams are placed in pillows,
By the fairy who lives yonder by the meadows,
And demystifies dreams to anyone who will listen.
And so my fate was written, the frames were set, the projector focused, and I watched jumbled images from my eerie subconscious unfold.

The first picture revealed that I had a secret,
Something I knew I should tell him, something that was bound to be a deal breaker.
I held the secret in my arms, a beautiful creature, a blessing from my maker.
It was a revelation too good to be true, yet very strange.
My recent dreams seldom appeared without a child, yet I knew no childbirth.
But dreams are dreams and dawn was still in Mother Earth’s womb.
So I swam in sadness, knowing that because of this child I would lose the one man I loved,
I dreaded the look on his face on receiving such news,
How torn and distraught he would be.
But did he not have a child with another woman?

The frames rapidly changed,
This time I was preparing for a wedding,
How I got here I knew not,
Looking at the groom I saw only a strange face and not the man I loved.
I was in a panic for my family was in a happy fuss.
What was going on I wondered?
I turned restlessly for nothing made sense.

Here, the frame changed again, to what I cannot tell,
I only remember waking up, shaken and guilty.
Was I hiding something?
Was I getting married?
Of course, the answers to these questions were in the negative.
It was a silly harmless dream after all!

But later today, I searched for Hope in everything only to find empty dreary places.
How painfully I searched, in my thoughts, my heart, even my phone!
Hope was gone, and I forlorn.
“I killed her,” I gasped abashed.
The one who made me build castles in the air, sing along to love songs, randomly Google wedding gowns, wonder what cravings I would get in the second trimester……………
Hope was gone, and with her, my happiness.
I settled back into my sober life, glad that I no longer had Hope to make me restless.
All I had were days ahead of me, to merely survive!

Secret lover

She took a step closer to the edge,
The cold distance calling to her,
Whispering intimately in her ear like a lover,
"I want you," she heard it coo. "I want you down here with me."
"No?" she whispered retreating,
Desperately grasping for some reality.
"Stay," the whisper ordered. "I know you want me."
"I do?"
"Yes, you secretly whisper my name,
You write my name, dream my name....what was that poem you wrote about me?"

Sheepishly she narrated from memory:

'I love you but you know not,
I mourn for you in my sleep,
For then I can feel your most intimate treasure in my depths,
But when I arise, I weep,
For I see you not, I know you not,
And you care not.'

"Yes, yes, that's the one  but there's more....
You wrote:
'I woke up sore, worn and torn; simply the work of my hands.
I had thought of my lover yester night,
Shortly after indulging in a song of ice and fire's lore.
I was suddenly loath."

"You know!" She murmured Intrigued.
She moved close again,
Eager, heart-racing, adrenaline rushing.
She closed her eyes, moved closer and the wind kissed her.
"I have loved you Elenore,
I only wanted you to come to me!"
A sigh was the only reply she could afford!

The net was cast,
The mast was raised,
Tears dropped ten floors down,
And her lover licked them away,
Greedily as a babe laps at its mother's milk.
Such beautiful yet very erotic words,
Could surely make any girl fall.

LEARNING HOW TO WALK

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock....
The clock persisted,
Tick,tick, tock,tick, tock,
The hands clapped,
Almost in a cold mock,
Tick,tick,tick, tick.....
The hour called,
"Time to end the crawl madam," the clock chimed. "Wash your claws for the watch is over."

True,
The watch was ended,
The mind was learned,
Crafted and trained in the ways of the world,
It was time to act, a time to be,
So I dorned my cloak,
And went out to save the world,
To save myself.

My first step was on the roadside,
Passing on wares for a decent price.
I couldn't have been anymore down to earth than I was then,
Out of control, eating dust and baking under an unforgiving sun.
Walking was harder than I had imagined.

My second step took me online,
It was cooler, nobler and cleaner.
Delivery after delivery made my legs as strong as an athlete's,
And before I knew it,
I was on television calling the shots on my own show.

Walking was harder still,
I was making a kill,
Shit was moving fast,
I was literally on my toes,
Desperately trying to keep up.

What had been a walk,
Was now the talk,
And the talk got me jogging,
Then running,
Eventually racing,
I was sweating notes,
Juggling shit-loads,
Purchasing boats,
Cruising from coast to coast,
I was the business,
The one who had learned the walk.

Tick, tick,tick,tick, tick...
The clock cried,
Snapping me from my hypnotic state,
"No!" I cried realising that I was still on my hands and knees.

Merry Me

Delight is real,
Alive I feel,
Like a storm awesomely vicious, full of gusto, majestic zest.
Like the sand beneath the lake: hot; like the water above: cool.
I'm falling faster than a shooting star,
I'm hotter than boiling tar.
I'm alive baby,
Because of you I feel alive!

You have planted laughter in my soul,
A light bright that darkness cannot follow.
You have kissed me alive,
And suddenly I know what I have been missing,
I understand what I should be wanting,
What I should be seeking, needing and praying.

Delight is real,
A good man is the deal!
Just look at me; dazed like Gollum with the precious ring.
Grinning from ear to ear like a clown.
Delight is real,
Delight I feel.
I am perfectly smitten!

THE MAN-HIGH

Ever been on a man high?
A high so strong that leaves you reeling?
A high so wrong that keeps you wanting?
A high so right that you can't stop aching?
A high of needing, seething, searching, wondering, mourning....
A high of confusion, a high of hating one self,
A high from hell, a high deeper than the deepest well,
A high that is a curse,
A high experienced by a smitten lass.

I am that lass,
So star struck that-
That on this love I take a pass,
That on this string I choose not the bass,
That on men I quit the fuss,
That on looks I will hide the sass,
That on words I will be forever terse,
That on flower gifts I will keep no vase!
I am quitting on the man high,
The high that got me muddling in a sigh.

Ever been on a man high?
An awesome high when he is close by,
A hair-ripping high when he kisses his bye.
A high voluptuous and satiating when he calls,
A high deflating and cold when he ignores,
A high of dreams and goals when in his arms,
A high of loss and being stuck when he is being an ass.
It's the high that mends you only to tear you apart,
It's the high that consoles only to break you apart,
It's the high that defines you, then confuses you,
It's the high that warms you, then freezes you,
It's the high I hate, the high that's a mate,
It's the high that he gives and forgets to keep giving!

This high has:
Driven me mad,
Made me sad,
Turned me sour as curd,
Very much anti-lad.
This high got me wanting,
To roll up in mud,
To get on the bottle and sing kumbaya,
Yap,
I'm crazy!
Hazy and dazed,
Bitching every minute like an unpaid whore.

This high got me motivated to be bad,
Hike up my skirt,
Make my booty twerk,
Twerk, clap like thunder on a roll,
Twerk, clap till them honnies throw me a roll,
Get diced and sliced,
Hopefully till you call.

Once

I loved once.
Once when I was a fair young maiden,
Once when I was a restless young woman,
Once when I was a seasoned calmly woman.
Yes, I did love,
Men skilled with lance,
Men gentle and scarce,
Men careless and jerks.
Now,
Now all I do is pray.

Once,
Years passed, days lived, books read,
I could sleep like a babe,
Dream of years passed, days lived, books read.
Now,
Now shut eye comes short and light,
With thoughts of mates passed, days lived, chapters unwritten....sometimes.
Most times,
I pray through the night.

An appetite I once had,
Of succulent fruits, greasy foods, baked goods....
I often craved,
Flesh,
Hot and red.
I many a times drank,
From crystal glasses, beer glasses..
Now,
My hunger is embedded in prayer.

I was,
but now I ain't.
I needed,
Yet now I needn't.
There was,
There still is.
I could,
Now I can't.
Now,
All I do is pray.

CLOSET CLEANING

It was so like the typical horror movie scene: a hand reaching for a door that hides something sinister, something unknown.
The knowledge that whatever it is, it will get you.
No matter how swift you run,
how loud you scream for help,
you are a dead man.

The mental picture of such many scenes previously watched,
Gave me an exciting shudder,
Consequently brought me to wonder,
About the 'things' locked tightly yonder,
A place I had learned to forget,
A place I'm certain the term 'skeletons in the closet' described so perfectly,
"It was time," I thought, shuddering from pure fright!

I opened each door at a time,
With trembling hands, like a novice on a first crime.
Every opened door brought a cloud of dust to my face,
Behind it a sea of cobwebs and a swallowed case.
Within I had buried something,
And now I had to exhume it.
I hated it, but I had to keep the ring!

Clawing through the dirt,
I saw the grim past,
I trembled from a thousand feelings,
I ached from a dozen misgivings.
I was no longer a mature woman about to be wed,
Instead, I was a girl with lots of scars itching to be mend.

I had crawled under the bed,
Scared to death that this time he was surely going to kill her,
And true to his words, he finally did,
Taking himself with her.
Then there had been the cruel relatives,
The misguided believes:
I was a loony too, like father like daughter.
The scorning laughter,
The endless wishes of justice.....
I had had it rough, yet here I sat,
A woman whole, a woman survivor

At that instant it came to me,
As a woman goes to her wedding bed,
Yes I was scarred, but I had made it!
I was me because of my past,
I had faced the worst,
And now that I had faced it,
I needn't be afraid.
What had previously reeked of death,
Now brought unfathomable mirth,
It was like: a beautiful corpse, cold, calm...
It was so like a horror movie: the excitement and fright of something sinister, something perverse.

When it rains it pours

In a grey world,
Whose bustle and hustle,
Once loud, Now muffled,
By the mid year chill, the mid year bill,
Both heavy, hefty and heartless,
Boasts scars of a seasonal evolution.

How sensational to watch the reaction:
More boots, more hoots,
A soil choked on drainage,
So much hassle to cover that mileage,
A booming business of warm-wear, hot beverages and umbrellas,
A flu epidemic,
Misty breath,
An infrastructure stunned by increased surface run off,
Puddles, muddling muddy streets,
A game of hop, skip and jump.
Sensational almost doesn't cover it!

Clearly, nothing makes Third World problems pop like the pouring rain -
Nay, nothing emphasizes poor decision-making structures as does the pouring rain,
Both gain and rain, go down the drain!

Think of the council man who gained at the expense of construction on a riparian area,
Plans to improve an efficient drainage system that were ignored,
Individuals who littered; litter that ended up in a river, in a drainage,
Developers who grabbed wayleaves......
Why,
Is this not simply beyond sensational?