Search

Olive Branches

"the depth of me"

Time Won’t Stop #birthmonthDecember

14906844_1136252319792364_3539238834393517925_n

The air is soft, cool.
Its clouds, my face they hold fondly as no lover.

I am wrapped in the hand of a clock

my eyes locked on its crux, willing it to remain immovable

Be here.

 

The road that takes you, keeps you where you go.

My heart stops with each strike of the clock,

You will not find me alive, I fear.

 

Tangled in the threads of time, I will not stop, even when desperate:

The choice out of my hands

 

Blast my nonchalance.

I want very much to say I love you

But I fear you will not hear

You will not understand.

 

Lost in this myriad of thorns,

I pray the wind will carry my message

 

 

 

Advertisements

My Dreams are Red #birthmonthDecember

 

20225336653_42ba3d8afc_b

 

Tell me your dreams again, he said. So I did………………………………………

In my dreams are claws that shred skin and draw blood. Shadows long that grow with each stride and dark mists that hide the sun.

Last night I had a vision of him, oceans away.

The sky was varying shades of red, the river between us a black swirling, boiling mass of mystery beckoning.

My feet tasted glass, and my skin felt as though recently dipped in boiling oil.

When I looked at my chest, a gaping hole stared back.

He held my beating heart in his hands ready to crush it.

Beside me a caged nightingale moaned her freedom;

And lightning and thunder crackled and rumbled above us.

He lifted my crux, ready to cast it into the sea.

I fell on my knees, my life force slowly slipping away as he squeezed the life out of my faintly beating heart, oblivious to my outstretched hand.

His eyes I could not see, as the mist thickened and wove its web about me tighter with each tick of the clock.

Soon enough I was hanging by the thread of the mist, suspended in the maze, in a daze.

As consciousness deserted me, I heard footsteps and opened my eyes certain help had found me.

In the face that looked a little like the Angel Gabriel.

But he flew over me to the other side and together they ripped my heart in two; each now holding me captive.

I closed my eyes, ready to die. In spite of my white flag.

But a flicker of light, a torch; came on, and I thought maybe there’s still a way out of this hell.

 

 

Dance with the Divine #Phatfest16 #Ugblogweek

cxceuakxaaashaj

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.

cw-m3kw8aab7ia

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

 

 

2

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

 

my-man

 

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

 

s2ykylx

 

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

 

letting-go-of-the-thoughts-that-cause-depression-722x406

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.

Wings…winks…

14906844_1136252319792364_3539238834393517925_n

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.

SUN IN THE NIGHT

omg__there_are_like__two_suns_in_the_sky_____by_glitter_pie-d6lpf0m

I wanted the sun to shine in the night

I knew it would

because if anybody could bring the sun, you could

I wanted to remain dry in the heat of a hurricane

certain with you, anything is possible

I saw my wings every time I looked in the mirror with your face next to mine

 

You see, I saw the sun in every night

all you had was to look at me

and the stars would burst in song

all my senses alive with you

But you are an Illusion I can’t let go of.

 

And no, I don’t care for my heart now

its blind alleys leave me for dead

I can’t hold on, and yet I can’t let go

of my sun in the night

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: