Olive Branches

"the depth of me"


November 2016

Dance with the Divine #Phatfest16 #Ugblogweek


I can see it now. Awake, asleep-I dream daily of it. Dream of songs that like lemon drops or honey drips, will melt all my troubles away and give me wings to soar with the wind.

In my mind’s eye, visions of angelic voices and souls dancing to one song. The song of the divine.

I heard someone pray God bless them with a ticket to the festival of all time.

Another wished for a magical wand to wish the days into oblivion so the day would dawn to the festival. Schools bought tickets for their students to be part of the dance with the divine at the festival.

I overhead some retired generals getting excited about kwepena, sack racing, and Duulu.

Everyone. Everyone wishes upon #phatfest16.


I have my T. Shirt pressed and ready, but looking about me, more and more can’t wait for 10th December and are wearing theirs already as though to remind themselves it’s no longer just fantasy.


cx8cehbwiai8yawMy neighbor told me she bought her ticket at quality supermarket, and my cousin through payway, and twitter and face book won’t stop talking about it.

I see it written in God’s hand, shooting across the sky. I have to be there.

Once upon  a time legendary King- David tore his clothes off to dance for the greatest King of all.

His son and heir King Solomon has written endless songs of love and expressed passionate love to the divine.

They gave; withholding nothing.

Now that #phatfest16 is here, I will sing and dance for the King of all.

I see it now as it will be. Zabuli. Chris Erroh. Ruyonga. D. Reign. Holy Keane. Sobre. Majic Mike. Tio.

I almost forgot those surprise artists who cannot be named- just yet.What a collection of treasure troves.

under my skin #Ugblogweek




It tingles.

Shimmers right before it explodes;
Just underneath my skin-
In its wake goosies, restlessness, a spongebob head
It’s obvious you’re meant for me.

My crux swells, and am short of breath
Whoosh I have to slow my breathin
So I don’t suffocate
There are bugs crawling just beneath the surface
can’t keep still
and everything but you recedes further and further
till I am oblivious to all ‘cept these sensations.


Did I just ran a marathon unawares?
Feels like I am standing outside myself
And watching me from the side
Losing myself till
Even I have ceased
But the love bugs persistent tease my senses
And render me immobile.


Just under my skin
A furnace of seven suns melts every pore of resistance
And I pour all over you
Flesh and bone
It’s obvious you’re meant for me.

Shards of your Love #Ugblogweek




We ran into each other in the parking lot of Serena hotel. Not our first chance encounter.

Seeing you, standing next to you, talking to you for that spell of three minutes;

I could swear my heart beat faster than time itself, as I memorized each inflection in your tone.

I remember my legs move of their own volition to you, and for a change I didn’t contemplate that seeing you for so short a time would rapture my heart to shards.

The world ceased and all I could do was feel as you stared deep into my eyes; excited as I was but unable to reach out. My head spun, tangled in threads of emotion unfathomable and while there was so much to say, I was content to just be with you.

Words could wait.

You smiled. Surprised. Pleased at our chance encounter.

Later, standing in the International Press Room, I watched you drive away with my heart.

I don’t see you often, but not a breath goes by without my mind, heart and body whispering your name.


But for now, Pieces of your love blow my way, carried on the wings of the wind.

A call, an accidental meeting, a whatsapp text, or a drop in my text messages

A meeting where only our eyes do the talking

Sometimes a writer will write about you, so I get a glimpse of your picture in a newspaper or on my TV screen.

Pieces of your love; bread crumbs I get to keep me dancing to a tune I can’t resist.

A fire smoldering beneath my breast bone; the shadows in the flames neither dark nor long enough to conceal stray thoughts; all of them-

Everything else is an echo. Only you.

Reserved, restrained, almost wild but not quite when you’re with me

Black and White #Ugblogweek




I took a trek down memory lane, certain a vital piece of me had chipped off and tangled with the sands of time.

Certain the hour –glass was all churned up and spiraling out of control because of my mistakes, I carefully retraced my steps.

I was careful not to make any sudden unnecessary movements, lest I unsettle whatever last chance I had to put things to rights.

So I tiptoed-looking right, left, up, down- all in a bid to keep a grip on all the corners of my universe.

It couldn’t fall apart again. I wouldn’t let it.

But what struck me first was the crowd of people all around me. Each desperate to reclaim the good old times.

Some had swollen ankles, others bruised toes while most had cried themselves to numbness.

A woman before me eager for the time she’d been heavy with promise before the loss of her baby tried to reach out for the moment before it’d all fallen apart. To immortalize it so the joy would stay. But it rode out of reach on the wings of the morning mist.
And she kept jumping high as she could, but the past was past.

Then it dawned on me, no amount of going back in time would right whatever was already done. The salt I tasted on my tongue right then, regrets wasted.

As the hourglass tumbled to the floor, it occurred to me that I need to rush to the present and make sure to make every moment last forever.

No beginning….. no end…. #Ugblogweek



My heart rejects comfort tonight.
She’d rather be ripped out:
says comfort is salt to the wound;
a pat on the back she will not have.


You can’t break something that isn’t she says
So if  shredded, obliterated and crushed underfoot, then-
all the pain will be gone forever.



It is still too early. I know because I feel the damp  cool fingers of morning dew brush my tilted face. But my face feels hot. Some of the thoughts behind it.

Dreams of the night before. Interesting surreal stuff.

I was first lady of the United States of America. It was Michelle Obama’s fault.

It all started at some kind of charity event. Children. Lots of security.

She was taking me to the head of security to ensure my credentials were entered into the system.

He seemed surprised when I introduced myself. But quickly responded when he realized it was true.

Later we went to the White house. And all this time everyone seemed to fall in line behind the authority that had me there; even though to me it seemed unreal.

I examine the still dark sky for a sign this day will be beautiful. There’s music. Happy chirps, and squeals of delight from birds that herald this day with me.

‘Will this day be great?’ ‘Will this day be special?’

But before it sneaked up on me in the throes of a befuddled unconscious state of mind, I did not know I dreamed.

Hmmm. Deep breath. Whatever face this day shows, I am ready. Because dreams do come true.

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