Tag: Humanity

#PuzzledLines

I sit here with stones in my chest

filling up space where hope used to lie

looking at life and wondering

what is self love

what is selfishness

what is love even

Love?

that thing that i aborted from the chambers of my heart

that feeling that i don’t want to feel again

i get goosed up each time a man makes a pass

or even innocently …(no, nothing is innocent about men)

genuinely…(i don’t think the word works)

but that point when they seem to actually feel

But he did show all that Until my 10th birthday

When he sneaked into my room

wearing his white tunic and his grey beard almost glowing

Now,

I sit here with stones in my chest

filling up space where hope used to lie

continuously trying to convince people am good enough

or am lovable

They say love is effortless

it comes naturally

but how effortless

how do you find beauty in the broken

a kind of broken that only finds love in a wine bottle

and hope in a glass of tequila?

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His scent….

I don’t know where he has been

What he has been doing

better still what he has endured for the day

His face covered in pimple sweat drops

His pleated sleeves neatly folded to his elbows

Smartly ironed trousers

But his scent……

He wore no cologne

Didn’t smell sweet either

He smelled like a tire

Or let’s say, a mixture of tire, sweat and bad deodorant

Gave him a scent similar to that of a he-goat

Do his women find his scent sexy?

Do sportsmen smell like this and still distribute hugs

Is this a scent of hustle

But like I said

I don’t know where he has been or he is going to?

I don’t even know half the things on his mind

Growing up can tire sometimes

Maybe sometimes this scent is allowed

Especially when not sweating on someone before taking a birth

Taxi tales

I see him almost every other time that i take a taxi after work. Clad in his Kaunda shirt, his beard greying and unkempt. His eyes, his eyes….He clenches his green hankie in his right hand and pockets his left firmly into the front pockets of his Kaunda. He usually sits right next to the conductor even if the taxi was empty when he got in.

Thoughts in my head “he is old, he should be home resting while his kids take care of him or probably doing something that wont have him moving“. Once i was lost in thought when i saw another man probably in his late 60s. He looked famished and worn out, he was slouching but he was slashing outside an office. my heart sunk, my mind wondered again.

I saw the old man yesterday morning, around 7am. I am not sure if it was his son or grandson, he was in company of a young boy who looked slightly like him. The young boy who was wearing an old uniform and canvas without socks held his hand and led him to the Taxi and waited till he sat. At his usual sit, wearing his usual clothes. I found out this day that he was blind, i prefer to say visually impaired. At first i always thought he had squints but today i found out he wasn’t. His left hand was also impaired and in his pocket he was tightly holding unto 5000shs that he was using as taxi fare (guessing he holds it so he doesn’t have to be cheated by people he cant trust to tell him what exact note he is holding). I wanted to know his story, i was dying to see who picks him up when he gets to his stop, i wanted to be able to help maybe share my 1000shs with him. But i was at the back, i couldn’t even whisper to him and i got off before he did.

i hope i see him again, i hope i can have a cup of tea with him but i am afraid he might never want to sit down for tea with a stranger.

WRITING

Sipping my tea at a cafe
I saw them,

holding hands and laughing as they sipped on their smoothies
i felt them,

warm and watery. The tears ran on my rounded cheeks onto my cup.

I sniffed.
You were the poison

And yet I kept drinking from your cup.

I could have broken under the weight of my past,

trying to rectify and please
maybe question and sulk.

I don’t even know why i kept coming back but i guess it was revision not to repeat the same mistake twice.

Your mess was a qualification for my love.
I let my love pull down the strongholds of those memories and silence the accusing voices and i loved HIM

gave him my heart like it hadn’t been hurt before
gave him my soul like it was a lollipop,
i let him take total control
i wasn’t worried about another mess,
it was only one heart and i was positive it would heal
yet still, i had high hopes in HIM
since then, its been handled like a fine piece of glass,

an accolade
and i am at rest

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Nations 8

12/5/18

I would like that you know the things I love. Life should never be as complicated as the world paints it.

Today I will tell you about my grandma. Your great grandma at that. She is late and maybe I didn’t realize how much I had grown so attached to her until she took her last breath. I love very many people with time you will know.

Mukya, I called her. We shared many things. When I went to the village my grandpa (lord bless his soul) would leave his bed for us. I did love him but maybe God took him before I got to understand him or spend so much time with him. I didn’t frequent the village because the environment change didn’t favor my health a lot and I am my dad’s little wallet. Well, when mukya came to Kampala, we shared a bedroom. Our mornings began with a sleepy long prayer that would wake you if you hoped to continue after and they ended with a prayer that got you dosing but made sure the Amen was heard. Our days were full of hymns in Runyankole. She spoke English only she and I understood. We sang rock of ages till the words stung deep, called Yesu until he said here I am, complained of pain and naked women in music videos, questioned why almost every tv soap had crying women but most of the day we were thankful. Oh yes, we were very thankful that I forgot how to ask God for certain things and be thankful for every small thing because every day was a blessing. We talked about boys and makeup and made jokes about ministers wives because she was one. Oh, she hated lazy everything with her whole life. She liked to work that even in pain she grabbed a hoe. I don’t know how to dig but I promise to pass on everything I learned. (God as my strength)

Am not perfect. Everyday I will fall short even as your mom. But I promise to be on your Team always.

Nations -2

Dear nations

As long as mummy has air(never take it for granted so when pride kicks in, remember who lendest you breath)

I was saying, as long as mummy has breath, hold unto these hands mahogany…i however can’t wait to tell you about whose hands hold us all.

I won’t promise to stop the storm for you, but will always try protect your eyes from the dust( for your eyes are far more precious than diamonds) and be your wind breaker

Always keep the stars in your eyes and dreams in your heart. Jeremiah was sent to prophecy to nations….you are Nations

 

3/3/2018

Nations- 1

Dear Nations,

I have been meaning to write to you and many times i contemplated but here it is. I don’t know you yet, but i was sure of that very first day. I wasnt anticipating but I just was too conscious. Any way Dont ask why u are nations. I knew way back that this is what you would be called until God puts a name on my heart for he knew u before i even thought of it. All i know u are going or will be a body. One individual with too much.

I often told myself that if u aren’t a minister of the word in whatever way u choose don’t be the first because that is a promise I have made to God and i intend to keep. And since u are here and you are the first am sure you know u are ready. I am very excited to have you.

I know one day u will be able to read this blog. u will have questions and I hope i will be able to answer each one of them.

And the LORD said unto her, Two nations are in thy womb, and two manner of people shall be separated from thy bowels; and the one people shall be stronger than the other people; and the elder shall serve the younger.[2] (emphasis mine) Genesis 25:23

Worry not. Am not sure how many are thea but whatever number. He mantains my lot

15/2/2018

Dear heart

Today I felt as low as I felt the same day four years ago. I felt overwhelmed but also I had hope. I always have hope but am wondering, is this hope affiliated to you or the soul?

Hope is one of those things I can’t live without. I just don’t know how anyway.

Today I played the same exact songs that I played then. Now, there’s a certain place this music sends me to. A zone I can’t explain. Is music affiliated to you or the spirit?

This kind sends me places and makes me feel a certain type of way, as if am staring deep at a child in worship….(oh there is nothing more humbling than this) the innocence, the honesty, the infancy…..

Worship is just another setting

Love is another zone

Dear heart, if this must be my drug, I wanna keep high forever. If all this is affiliated with you in any way, teach me how to stay in this zone. It’s a safe haven. In it, nothing else matters. They say, smoke weed and feel…..i say inhale worship and everything else will fall in place

Truly

Me…gracefully broken.

Dear heart

Besides loving, what else we’re you created to do?

Okay, I know that you are also meant to keep the body functioning and life smoothly flowing… But then… Where do people breed hatred? Somehow I think the only space within is for love but also I realize, we spite a lot, we are ungrateful, we carry hatred some of us only live for a season.

Well, it’s a love season let me focus on what is important.

Dear heart, may you be rich. So full, very loving and soo humble. Avoid pride, it wrecks the whole system. And may you always give more than you can receive.

Truly

Us

Dear heart 2

Yes, I know you can choose to love or not but then, what choice do you leave me with?

All I have done is love the life out of you,

I loved you when you lied

Loved you when you hurt

Loved you when you smiled

Loved you even more when you were broken

Loved you when you were excited and happy.

In brief I have shared your joys, sorrows, the storm and the sunshine. But the heart wants what it wants and I can’t blame it. However, I don’t really know what gets it confused and it falls off balance even when all lights are clearly and boldly stating no “no future agead ”

Why do we ‘tie’ on things and give them so much power over us?

Dear heart, you failed me once, try be good this new season because these are the last letters I will be sending. We need some love poetry in-house, some flowers of course, a few scented candles, a beautiful set up, maybe an excuse to have an expensive meal one that comes with one single nacho for a starter(they call it food too), some good wine (I love it white) a beautiful dress and a person THAT feels the same and sends butterflies and caterpillars down my left, one with whom my Spanish isn’t foreign, lots of laughter and sweet music……..

We need a new season abeg

Truly

Me