What I need to write is a writing of unusual language. Yesterday, I packed my luggage and baggage. I was ready to meet my groom who sounded like António Jacinto My beauty draws my hair, but not the tasty food in my bowl.
Consider the grace and peace in my breast and the pain in my back. The gap in my teeth and curves in my neck. The spark in my eyes and the invite in my smile. Even the span of this hips and swing of waist couldn’t be compared to Maya Angelou’s Phenomenal Woman. I have been insulted by a Man: He called me “Konongo Kaya” One who has always proven to be a Crook! My groom never saw these stupendous Look!
A crook is what I see and not a Man. He ditched me for greater. Jilted me for another! Now, I’m trying to hold back to this silent tear. Let me tell you my greatest Fear. That through it all my mind and heart still aches for him daily.
“Konongo Kaya” meaning- Pretending not to love someone when in actual sense you do; and in effect, you don’t want another to take that person.
…and as I walked through the familiar path of potholes that led to the doorsteps, where we had spent many starry nights cuddling and looking into each other’s sunken eyeballs, memories came flooding back as the fragrance of the rose bushes wafted over me. In my mind’s eye I could see him shirtless, flashing his usual signature smile and barbecuing pork chops in the garden. Pork! How we used to race each other to Korkor’s domedo joint.
I have plans of passing by after work today. Do you mind? You may have to entertain me with the usual because I’ve got a lot on my mind and I need a distraction. Hopefully, I don’t get to forget I have a meeting tomorrow..
See you soon.
My knocks on the door were feeble and evenly timed as though I was uncertain of knocking in the first place. Suddenly I realized my throat had gone dry and my palms were getting sweaty. At last, I took courage to send in a few knock and called out “Kekeli, Kekeli,…agoo are you in there?”
He came out shirtless, stared deeply at the figure standing in front of him. It was as if he wanted to say his last words and all. his heart thumping excitedly against his chest, The emotions bottled up on the inside pushed upwards threatening to choke him… He took another long and careful gaze and smiled.
before anything else, I have something to say. Don’t get alarmed! Nothing’s happened! Nothing’s been said! We still are the good friends we deceptively tell ourselves we are despite all the signs.
have you ever felt that way before? When the one person you’ve ever TRULY loved is that one person you very well know you aren’t allowed to??
I mean can you imagine all the restraint and emotional willpower it’s taken me to roll along, stay mute and pretend as if nothing is happening to me?
Maybe it’s an infatuation, sis, but what I do know is I’m elated when I’m in her company; when all her focus is me and the kind of vibe is unexplainable.
A love that may never well be…
I have no idea if the gods have anointed her as the one for me, all I know is when I’m with her I’m spurred to be better; to do better; to look out for the best in me… if ‘us’ would ever be; if ‘us’ would ever materialize but this I do know…. Her ilk is rare…
Demedo : Fried pork usually sold in the evenings at a busy spot or joint.
I remember vividly telling this hollow heart of mine never to awaken This grotesque of emotions I struggle to decipher Here I am now reliving it and throwing tantrums at Love The only essence my heart still beats for you
How I wish I could tell this heart to stop Did love ask me to make myself a fool? Or mine wasn’t enough to debunk the cliche of wise men about love? Did love ask me to day-dream about the impossible To leave my heart as a remnant of questions whose answers you have in store?
We’ve been at this for far too long Can you just tell me what my itching ears need to know already You can’t deny you have the left piece Of our right to peace in the heart
I feel starved When you touched me I felt alive and a woman I felt alive and yours I felt alive and wished it was forever in your arms However, love thrives on wills rather than on wishes.
You’re the reason I update my timeline with strange insignificant messages I wouldn’t budge to read on a regular day You’re the heavy traffic on a Monday morning, you piss me off a lot. Yet I still wonder the patience I get just to hold on
On Tuesdays at prayer meetings, when my eyes are closed, I sense your presence and your image pops up a lot. You make me break the very first and second commandments of God I know He’s a jealous God but I can’t help it
You’re the laughter at a weak joke I have with my girlfriends every Wednesday evenings You brighten my day. You’re my shade on a rainy day, you have my back dry. You’re the bank alert on a bad day, you lit my soul You do
Please do not hold back from me the very support I need for life. It may sound unrealistic to you But even if I could survive a day without you I want to still live it with you Let’s make it sound realistic I’m tired of imaginations and poetic license I’m tired of rhyming words that have no answers.
Just look me straight in the eye Stand before pupils who can’t lie about the light of love you shine on me Sometimes all I want to do is lay next to you And listen to the beat of your heart I just want to close my eyes And fall asleep in your arms whenever I find it hard sleeping I just want to feel you inside me and forget about the world and its cares
Even if you couldn’t give me all that my heart seeks I pray thee grant thy maiden with the sanity of a heart to love again
Do you want me to continue a story that has no reality? I’m certain this match you intend to create is not a heavenly made Somehow, your flirty charisma managed to awaken my muse- a dead muse has been haunting Now, I see myself stuttering all the time.
It’s like when I first met you; my shyness wouldn’t let me be. My tongue has left my mouth; my hormones have betrayed me. Adrenaline is reacting negatively, and dopamine rarely makes any sense.
My tear glands are rather unleashed pouring out acidic tears on my cheeks: tears that I didn’t budget for. I should be ranting prayers for God’s perfect creation But here I am second guessing myself Lying to my hollow heart and being so hard on it for nothing I must say, your charm is deceitful Working together so hard on this weakling mind of mine But just like an ordinary writer, I fall for this! “Peeves”
I am caught in the shadow of time:
I am drowned in fear:
fear of the daunting distance;
fear to live only with memories;
fear of the obvious unexpected.
Don’t think of me as a weakling,
I am only young, with a slippery mind.
Too many thoughts pace the path of my mind.
When will time heal this charm When will geography close this particular Chapter? I don’t want to have anything to do with you- isn’t this so simple to understand? Can my writings make up for the warmth of your presence? I am confused; I am concussed; I am helpless! I have many questionable answers than answerable questions — I’ll defer my questions until further notice. I have been ranting and writing…or maybe my words are a waste to you. Communicating no message.
So let my emotions comfort me. So stop playing games with my mind. My emotions get a better part of me I don’t need you to harden them Need I say more? I’m patient to a fault! I write and fail to speak like the way I write. Isn’t that strange to you…
I am unencumbered by the vexatious songs of sinister birds: Songs that reverberate that my wait for you is a wait in vain. I’ve corked my ears to negative thoughts, But God, be my witness- I have had enough of this Charade. because I’m certain that this match isn’t heavenly made.
You are who you are
There is no changing that
Embrace who you are
You can only hide behind a facade for so long
So come out of hiding now
Baby, look up!.
You are who you are
A chance to make it work again
A new brand awaits you
When it’s easier and less harm to your self-esteem
We look at ourselves and disgust is what we taste
But we take for granted who we are
You lose yourself in the shoes of others
You forget who you are
Baby, look up!
Pity yourself for not being perfect
But most important of all
You begin to disgrace yourself
The self hate sits in like bitter medicine
The cuts on your body cry scarlet
And yet all this insignificance
Costs you your life that has more importance
Than what you are or aren’t.
Behind the cash machine stood her glowing in her lens
As I saw her come near,
Nothing a man could do but silently cheer.
A sight as beautiful as the sea
A smell as good as popcorn popping at the movie theater
A word, for a moment, could not be uttered
Confidence was all that mattered
But backward or forward I couldn’t move
At last, the inner feelings conquered and expressed itself to her
We both had admiration for ourselves.
Behind her lens is a woman,
Not by her adorable beauty alone,
Not by her incandescent smiles alone,
Not by her angelic voice alone,
But a woman who could see a million miles ahead of what her lens could see
A woman who would not make love a theory
A woman who would positively impact your life with a minute’s encounter
And now anytime I sit idle in her absence,
There is nothing I could do than to play with words.
This woman is rare,
This woman is real.
I have two sides
I want to address
One side pricks hearts
The other warms
Friends, recently I have been at bay
Trying to think, understand, and reconsider humanity.
Lost I am now.
Tangled in a web.
Trying to make amends.
People, understand this.
I can spot fake from a far.
I am a poet: act according to the way I feel.
I have been in confusion with humanity.
Humanity murmurs behind my back.
It tells me I am black.
This strong pain in my chest hurts.
I am a poet: weaving words as beautiful as the rainbow.
Warming weary hearts with words.
But my other side seizes sight of friends.
In darkness of the night I try friends.
I try to reconsider and not to remain silent.
Humanity won’t just allow this secret.
Humanity talks and the fragility of this heart can’t contain it but to remain mute.