WOLF

The sun also rises, for broken girls in love.”

It crawls in my skin, the thirst for blood creeps into my bones
I can’t think over the pounding in my chest
I…I… I can’t breathe; it’s the anger, resentment,

I’m frightened
It’s the bits and pieces I never bothered to put into words,
The look in the mirror that makes you disappear inside your head
The feel of extreme emotions
It’s over; there is no turning back

1……2…….3……..
Swoons
(are you still there? Hey! Hey!
Just close your eyes, my love, I will be there soon )
I am trying to believe the world outside my mind
It’s a long walk; this might be the time to break down
Is this a hazy dream
Hush

4…..5……..6
Put your best smile on
Can I dance all my fears away…..swinging gracefully…….
Cupid’s song got me in a trance.
I know time is dead; why am I still obsessed with living it

7….7….7….7
Fixed boy after empty joy,
a broken girl, playing with a new toy
If love is accurate, and not just words written or said
Give me a chance, darling,
I am trying to find a beam behind this darkness

If I scream all my secrets to you
This world could break apart with sadness
I was born to leave
The drug has worn off; I am not a magician anymore

We are the designers; in the end, our lives are our little pieces of artwork.
We create.

Ode to intellect

He looks like art,

and art isn’t supposed to look good but make you feel good,

it’s the beady eyes, the knowing smile,

He travels against the gravity of his origin, a growth not tethered to his past,

A universe full of secrets, not made of apologies or excuses,

Nothing is more beautiful than someone who refuses to give up,

Seeing beauty in all aspects of life; one never grows old,

He made me realize I had fallen in love with what could never be,

I had caressed hope that “THEY” would run away with me! Make me whole,

One cannot view all the sunsets,

He asked why I was ready to live this life without consequences,

all I have ever wanted is to make something great of myself but fear to prove right those who say I can’t.

You try too hard, it’s either you lose yourself, or you lose the reason why you are trying too hard.

Not even One thousand words can ever encompass the depth of life,

it’s the dissertation you can never quite get right, The unfinished love poem,

It is four short letters, too complicated to define,

In his view of the world, he chose to create forests out of lonely trees,

Never talking about love because his muses are gone now; their memories stains on sheets,

Pain should mark an injury, not make more injuries,

Silence isn’t poetic; no one reads minds; if you forget to speak up, you will not hear yourself too,

These streets miss his brother’s feet. The life he could have lived hums like bees in his subconscious,

A biography of memories.

FROM WHERE I STAND

From where I stand, I have learned that life’s nature is never permanent, just slowly changes; having everything is to have nothing.

I have learned that I am not a victim of things that shape me, Stillness doesn’t equal weakness, and I tire of explanations.

From where I stand, I Am trying to be free. No! World… I cannot play my music any quieter. At 26, only cowardice haunts me.

Oh, how I long for the days I looked for myself in the people I knew!

From where I stand, Loving Him was taking all the love I could never give myself and putting it to good use. All I ever wanted was someone who understood me completely.

He will never wonder if I ever loved him; it was the way he stole my pain away. I have learned there are people on this earth that will break from something as simple as a sigh.

We always give everything to those who rarely deserve us. Why are Colors seasonal?

From where I stand, if you want to tickle ignorance, come to Africa better yet, come home (my home). I know now why the pencil has an eraser!

From my tattoo, I have learnt that permanent doesn’t mean forever; it’s always.

It’s the darkest shades that paint the best portraits. It’s the strangeness we try so hard to see.

From where I stand, I will always succumb to the gravity of my truth.

I only see HIM.

1 Dead, 2 Injured In High School Graduation Shooting At Xavier University

Xavier University is known for a lot of prominent things, from being the only Catholic HBCU to having notable alumni like New Orleans’ first Black …

1 Dead, 2 Injured In High School Graduation Shooting At Xavier University

Omutuuba

As above, so below,

From the Dusty Earth, she has sprouted.

Soon she will grow tight buds, they will crack open to reveal the soft-pea green of new papery luscious variegated leaves;

Which with the morning dew are like thousands of stars in the sky, as the sun faintly catches the drops, allowing them to sparkle.

Each leaf is so tiny, and from down here even more so; yet together they obscure the sun’s rays.

Her Branches grow in different directions,

casting Shadows designing a collection of yellow fragrant flowers

Roots are firm in gravel, stems cracked from stormy nights,

when her branches hang low whilst protecting weeds at her base,

Now Sap drools down her bruised bark as she sways imperceptibly.

I see you judging her as you sprawl on last season’s leaf litter, so golden. Yet so noisy.

As you take a breath in-between your fit of laughter,

remember her Inexhaustible life is the equivalent of immortality.

With noble roots, she strengthens her hold on the ground.

Wangala Ayiii Sabasajja Ayii Bbeene. Obuganda bugumile.

Mango

Crammed in a stuffy saloon, I can barely make out my reflection in the stained mirror

Hairdressers hovering around me, inattentively weaving extension through my hair.
They smell of a late night. Beer breathe!

Diamond Platinum blares out of the only cassette radio in the room. Has it been 4 hours already? What was I thinking, dreadlocks! this late in the year

A mango hawker stumbles in, the musky scent of mango fills the air.

I crave you.

And for a moment, We are 25 in your hostel room; you just stepped out of the shower, towel hugging your waist; it can barely contain you. Dripping; the light reflecting the beads of water on your ebony skin

You pull me close, a slice of mango between your teeth. Your breath feels like a humid sea breeze brushing through my sandy skin.

The juice of the mango jumps to my tongue’s most sensitive parts, as your thin lips part to cradle mine. Groaning shouts escape me, violently soft like the beginning of Once Again.

I breathe you in; you taste of mango.

A sharp pain!! The braiders’ roughness drags me back to reality.

Let’s ruin our friendship. How Soon Is Now?

Monsoon