HOW COME YOU DON’T CALL ME ANYMORE!

I wait for the phone to ring,
Today, tomorrow and the next
Nothing comes through
Sometimes I think I heard it ring
Sometimes I believe it rang
Other times I know it rang
I realize I am day dreaming
The usual daydream
I tend to have conversations by myself
Silent ones other times verbal ones
I fall asleep thinking about you
I wake up thinking about you
You don’t call like you used to
My girlfriends say I am tripping
I miss you
I would give anything to have the man that loved me
The man that would do anything to have my time
The man that begged to be with me
The man that would come to my place of work
Wait till I am done
And walk me home
The man who called me in the middle of the night
Just to listen to my sleepy voice
And ask how my day was
If I had a choice
I would ask for that man back.
I would want that broke man back.
Without the money he was truly the man.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

SOMETIMES.

Don’t you sometimes wish there was a button you could reset,
To make things right or take us back to what we were before.
I know it is hard to be what we were before.
To turn back time would be impossible.
Be friends and not cross that line
It was magical and spontaneous.
Waking up in the morning,
Lying next to each other.
The shock and the guilt made us part without words.
No hug goodbye
Too shy to kiss let alone say I am sorry.
I pick up the phone and call just to hear your voice.
As soon as you pick up the phone I hang up.
It feels like I am prying.
I wonder,
Do you go through the same?
Do you think of me like I think of you?
Do you wonder what it would be like if we, if we?
We sit at the same table
Our spouses at our sides
We are fidgety and nervous
No words to say what we feel
Our eyes have a conversation
If they knew
What do you think they would do?
We meet again
This time we don’t talk neither do we apologise.
Our bodies say it all
And say what we feel.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

SOLILOQUEY

Is it me?
Why do I feel this way?
Everything is topsy turvy
My world has gone w=underground
My reality is gone
I am left with this
This….
There is nothing here
Empty rooms are all I have
What was a home
Has become a shell
Of what it was.
Memories flood my mind
I hear your voice
Your voice is in my head
My head is spinning
I think I am going crazy
My world is spinning.
Round and round it goes
Can you feel it?
Do you see it?
No?
Maybe I am going crazy.

©thelma migue

From the cizoepoetry collection.

UNLEASHED.

Like a tap you opened
I flow with no control
I can’t help the way I feel
My emotions are on a high
Running helter skelter
I try to get a grip of myself
It is so hard
I am loosing this war
My ammunition has run out
I am like a slave
Waiting for the next hit
My hope is
I do not die
As I wait
Till next time
My love

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

NEVER ENOUGH.

I can’t get enough of you
I can’t stop thinking of you
You were and are the most fragile
I know
I would have loved to know you
I know I kind a sound crazy
Trust me
I am not a stalker
Just an admirer
Every day I must have a dose
Every day I must listen
That is the only way
I can get to know you
You were never enough
Will never be enough
That is why I must have you
In small doses
To make you last forever
I look forward to seeing you
Listening to you
Drowning myself in your presence
You will always be my…….

Man in the mirror

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

DOES THIS MAKE SENSE?

The wind blows through my hair
The wind caresses my arms
It lightly touches my cheek
Just like a light peck on the cheek

I close my eyes
Memories flood
Tears flow
Remember the times
Like it was yesterday

Like you said
It is
As I feared
It has begun.

I put my head in my arms
Cry till the sun rises
Eyes red
Sleep deprived
I walk down the road
People look
I don’t care

Behind all this
After all this
In all this
There must be a meaning.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

DEMONS.

They are back
They torment me
Make my life unbearable.
They talk to me
You can’t hear them
But I can.
They tell me I am worthless
I do not deserve to have you
I do not deserve to be me
I am useless
Sometimes I argue
Fight until I have no energy left
I chase them away
With myself worth and self esteem
Then there are those days
Like hyena on the prowl
They smell my doubt
Like leeches
They drink my energy and positivity
Sometime I wake with them
Go to sleep with them
Other times they take leave for months on end
When they do come back
They come back with a bang
Leave a dent
That will take months to heal
The cycle goes on and no
Is there a stop to this?
How can I end it?
How can I stop them?

©thelma migue,2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

Way Back....

I might not know where am coming from,
but i know where i want to go,
i want to go back to the first time,
to when nothing mattered but the passion that flowed between us.
To when we knew nothing but how to love us.
back to those little arguments that made you get that cute wrinkle on your nose, to those breathtaking surprises that made my eyes sparkle
like Tanzanian diamonds in the African sunset
i need to get back to when the shooting stars brought our dreams to reality, to when our single candle outshone this midnight darkness.
We must find our way back to when we wrote each other little missives
on pink and blue writing pad,
to when nothing mattered but us.

Written by Marriam Wabuke.

Beloved....

I remember once you and i,
we conquered the skies,
we owned the sun,
aloft stood our crimson insignia,
complete with a rose natural and true,
and now as the world paints pink,
never to shed a tear but ever to share a joy,
to celebrate a woman,
who smiled in the face of death,
is to celebrate victory,
sweet sweet victory.
yours truly,
Beloved.
Written by Kandie...

PLEASE

I can’t disrespect you
You are bigger than I am
I can’t hate you
The love I have has no bounds
I can’t run away from you
I see you every day in the mirror
And hear your voice in my head
Sometimes you are the voice of reason
Other times you bring my world crushing down
I want to live
You keep pulling me back
Let me live
I have lived with you
I have lived for you
I have sacrificed all I have
If I could give my last breath for you I would
I love and I respect you
Please do not make me choose
Between love and duty
Between the future and the present
Between you and me
I do not want this
I did not ask for this
For a minute see my side
Sometimes things are not black and white
Straight forward and in place
You taught me that
You taught me to follow my heart
Follow what I believe in
Be myself
I am doing what you taught me
I am being me
You know how to get me
With the only thing that matters
All I ask is for your blessing
I do not want anything else
Just you’re blessing.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

YOU DON’T CALL

Where once it was busy
Silence fills the room
I sit and stare
Till my eyes
Start to tear.
My heart slowly breaks
When I think about my mistake
It didn’t take long
I should have known
It was all for sport.
Now I sit all alone
Staring at the phone
Waiting for you to call
I envision you
Standing in front of me
Me asking
How come you don’t call me anymore?

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

SILENT KILLER

Like a thief in the night
It takes over your life.
Eating from the inside
Slowly dying.
By the time you realize
You are a shell
Waiting to be put six feet under.
Some are lucky
Discover it early.
Other’s ignore it
For the unfortunate few
It’s too late.
Some don’t know it is there
When they discover
It is too late.
Too tired to say goodbye
Thinking you got time.
Teary eyed
You close your eyes and sigh.
You are a shadow of yourself
Your strength was put to the test
Immunity lost and gone
Many have been claimed
Many survived to tell the story
There is a murderer in town
It has a name and many heads
When it invites, introduces itself…..
“Hi my name is cancer. I would like to be your friend”.
Reject, delete.
Walk away, fight and win the battle.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

Perfection

Perfection's over-rated;
There's no way to improve
I couldn't imagine living
In such an awful groove.
But thinking of a perfect man,
Is quite another matter.
It conjures up loving thoughts;
My heart - it doesn't shatter.
At long last, I've met this man;
He's perfect, or so it seems.
Though he claims to have his faults
I believe he's from my dreams.
He holds my bags when shopping,
And waits patiently for me.
He rubs my aching shoulders,
Then sits me on his knee.
He wraps his arms around me,
When we go for walks at night.
He tells me that he loves me,
That everything's now right.
He looks into my troubled soul,
And watches when tears fall.
He doesn't judge for yesterday;
Instead, he hears me when I call.
He stares into my open eyes -Those windows to my soul.
He sees how much I love him;
It's then he becomes whole.

Written by Nadia Gopaul.

Shy Baby,,,,

The woman she is,
will part her sugar lips,
and sway her little hips,
to the rhythm of his beat.
Fast and furious,
...slow and curious,
the 'shy baby' dance.

Written by Angie Sambasi

MY SOUL

Set fire to my soul,
let it dance for you.
Whisper passion to my heart,
set it on a frenzy.
Confess these hands,
their every wording,
a tribute to you,
a promise for tomorrow,
a prayer for now.
ignite my sprite,
devote it by your side.

Written by Arnie Jaeda Cross.

EMOTIONS

It grips me
Holds me
No!
More like hijacks me.
I am held against my will
I am not able to move
Like a python
It wraps around me
I am running short of breath
Oh gosh
I feel the cold
It creeps in
Slowly slides up
In no time
The sun is gone
Replaced by the cold
Cloudless and dull
My days begin
My heart tries to beat
The beats get slower
It beats with strain
Trying to survive
Trying to reach into that….
That, that, vacuum
That empty place
I try to shake it off
It holds tighter
Like a leach
It sucks my blood
My energy
My legs give way
I fall at its feet
Oh Lord
This can’t happen again
I can’t go through this again
I do not have the strength to survive
Twice is enough
A third will kill me
Leave me without a soul
What do I do?
I need your divine help
I need
I need
I hear a scream
It is not human
Did you hear it?
Can you hear it?
Where did it come from?
I need to know
I want to know
I am scared to know
Scared of the answer?
Scared of the reaction
I am scared of you.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

STRUGGLE

In my mind I want to deny
In my heart I feel content
I want to be far away
Yet not too far away
I want you near
Yet when the words come out
I push you away.
I have but one desire
My heart knows you will fulfill it
In my heart of hearts
I know
But I am scared to admit
And accept defeat
So I keep on fighting
The truth is there
Smile I do
Weight I gain
I am content
But the struggle is within
It is like a raging battle
That never stops
I hope one day
I will look back
Not regret
The decisions I have made.


©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

JUNKIE

I can’t do without
I can’t live without
Every day I want
Money doesn’t count
I don’t care for time
I don’t want anything
Other than my daily fix
I am wild
Without it
I am blind
When high
It gives me such a high
It lift’s me off the wall
In its embrace
I am able to soar
Conquer the impossible
Climb the highest mountain
Swim the deepest sea
I can torture and beat
The matadors
At their own game
Without it
I am a little gal
A shy woman
A fragment of myself

I have said it more than once
I have said it over and over
Probably muttered it in my sleep
Your love is addictive
Without it
I am a……..

© thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

SALSA.

Come closer
He silently says
His eyes
Hypnotize me
His smile
Mesmerizes me
Every time he moves
I start to shiver
Goose bumps on my flesh
A shiver runs down my spine
He lightly touches me
I move away
His hand pulls me back
His hand around my waist
I move with the rhythm of his hips
He pushes me away
Then draws me in
His arms encircle me
Cheek to cheek
Lips lightly touch
Sparks fly across the room
The fire starts to burn
From my feet to my head
He scares me
The rhythm
The movement
The passion
All that clouds my mind
In his arms I am a slave
I do his bidding
I can’t let go.
He seduces me
With hot and spicy
Salsa.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

HER LOVE AND DEVOTION

She picks up after you
Cleans and cooks for you
Takes care of the kids
Makes sure they are ready for school
When you can’t find you sock
And are frantic and running late
She is calm and brings them to you
You rush and murmur a quick thank you.

After the game
She clears after your pals
She is ready to host
Anytime of the day or night
When you fall asleep
With the remote in your hand
She switches off the TV
Adjusts your pillow
Pulls the covers up
Tucks you in
Kisses you on the cheek
Switches off the light.

When you get home
The dinner is ready
Newspaper on the table
Kids homework done
Shirt, trousers and suite are ready
She is there for you.

She asks for little
Maybe nothing
If you stopped
Looked at her closely
You would see beyond the façade

She cries when you leave
Hold back her tears and pain
In your presence
Longs for that caress
The kiss on the cheek
The linger of your perfume
The bear hug
The long and deep kisses
She does not complain
Lest you think she is childish.

When she looks at you
When she kisses the kids
After all the cleaning and sorting
After the soul searching
She asks
Why do I stay?

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

DAYDREAM.

Every morning I look at you and smile
I never thought I’d still feel this way
When I think about you
I smile like a little girl
Draw maps on the ground
Like a school girl
This is crazy
I am over 20 years
I should have a grip on my emotions
But,
When I see you
I freeze, giggle, blush and get tongue tied
I wish I could disappear
I pray that the ground swallows me
In your presence
I am paralyzed
No one has managed to get me twisted
You drive me crazy
You are my fairytale
The best dream I ever had.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

MY LOVE

In my dreams you will stay
In my heart you will live
The love that I have for you
Will forever burn.
You are the love of my life
My soul is incomplete without you.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

ATTENTION

Men,
You take your chic out
Serenade her for months
When you hit the jackpot
You suddenly go cold
Why?
You don’t call or text
Why?
Be like the man
Who after a night of passion
Calls his girl
Sends her a text asking if she is feeling ok
Kisses he goodnight
Waits for her to come online
Talks to her till she falls asleep
Make her feel worthy
Like she is the only woman in the world
Treat her like a queen
Love her
Till the next time
You make love
Do this to your girl
And she will be yours for keeps.

Kisses…..

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

READY NOT

Young as she is
She bears a burden
Not by choice
Forced, by circumstances.
She was forced
Due to poverty
Her books
Gather dust beside her bed
Her tears flow
In silence she mourns
Every night she must
Perform her duty
Like a dutiful wife
He is twice her age
He owns her like a slave
Every night
He tears into her
Day after day
Her future fades.

Young and beautiful
Ripe for the picking
Her life is a fairy tale
She was sold before her time
To a man she knew not
She stands in front of the mirror
In her wedding dress
Wishing things were different
The man she belongs to
Loves her to death
He may be twice her age
His heart is young
Fear and love
Are joined that night
Produce a child
The devil would hate.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

OPEN WIDE.

I watch you
Sip you’re drink
The glass touches your lips
The liquid flows into your mouth.
You swallow in portions
It is like slow motion.
You’re Adam’s apple
Moves up and down.
Like the waves in the ocean
You tilt you head
Savoring the taste
Lifting the glass
Doing it again
I wonder how it would be
If I did the same
This time
My head on your lap
You hold the glass
My lips part
You pour the drink
Bend your head
Seal it with a…………… [giggle]

Kiss

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

STORM

You want me
You don’t.
You’re hot
You’re cold.
You love me
So what?
I may love you
I have limits too
I am not a toy
That you manipulate.
Put on the shelf
To Bring out
When, you are ready to play.
I have feelings too
I am human
I have goals
I have desires
If you can’t fulfill them
Neither reach them
Don’t use excuses
“I am inadequate”
“It hurts me too”
You don’t know hurt
Like I do
That is why
I am immune to it.
Don’t use another
To fight your battles
Be a man
Stand strong
Be firm
When the storm comes
Conquer all
Or I will be gone.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

MIRIAM - PART II

In the time that Macharia was staying with her family she was raped every other day. To compensate for the pain he bought her “nice” things. He was so protective to the point no man or boy who wasn’t a relative was allowed around her. Her friends envied her and were awed with Macharia. They found it cool the way an uncle was so caring and attentive almost like a boyfriend. In fact, at first they though he was her boyfriend.

One day, she gathered up her courage to talk to her mother. She had bottled up so much she felt overwhelmed and needed to talk to someone. Her mother listened as she told her the details with the days and times included. Her mother was in shock. After listening to her daughter’s awful story, she refused to believe. She knew her daughter resented Macharia, she had seen her body language, but this was just too much. She instructed Miriam never ever to talk about it again.

Miriam and her mother had history. They were not close. Miriam was closer to her father. Miriam’s mother (Gina) looked at Macharia like a son. His parents had died of HIV and since the grandmother had passed away and they were taking care of his tuition. It was decided to let him live with them.

This led Miriam to become more of an introvert. She spent a lot of time alone. She still played sports but most of the time she was alone in her room. One thing she did make sure of she worked to keep her grades above average. She passed high school with distinction and was admitted to the university. Her parents were proud of her especially her father. In his arrogance, Macharia took all the pleasure.

Once she was settled in university she moved out of home. She did not visit home that often or the times she did she did not spend the night. It was while here that she started taking alcohol and smoking occasionally. It managed to drown the stress and dull the pain. Miriam was beautiful and the men wanted her. There was always a young man hanging around her. She did not let them come close even when tipsy. She shivered and loathed the touch of a man. This intrigued the men and they kept chasing her. They had nicknamed her the ice queen.

Four years later she completed university and a year later passed the bar exams. She was now a fully fledged lawyer. She had a dream to fight for the rights of abused children and get the culprits reprimanded but first she had business to take care of. She a job at a top notch legal firm. Her friends were so proud of her and took her out to celebrate. After all the celebration, she was so tired all she wanted was to get to her flat and sleep.

Getting to her flat she felt cold. The night was warm and the neighborhood was safe. She pulled her shawl closer to keep the shivers away. She felt strange and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up just as she opened the door to her flat. She felt like someone had been there but she brushed it off and blamed her paranoia on the amount of alcohol she had consumed. Just to reassure herself she checked the windows and the other rooms. She found the window in the kitchen open and cursed herself for leaving it opened.

Entering her room she went straight to close the curtain, she thought she heard the rustle of clothing, in the moonlight she saw a silhouette. It was strangely familiar, switching on the light what she saw made her blood freeze…..

To be continued……………

©thelma migue, 2010


From the cizoepoetry collection

MMMMMM……

Love is a woman – those are part of the lyrics of a song
This got me thinking
Love is emotional
Love has moods
When love is happy
The world is happy
You can’t do without love
No matter how much you try to say you can
We love in different ways
We fall in and out of love
Love is a sea saw
It has its ups and downs
Love is a feeling
Love is a woman
Once you have it
Your desire is quenched
Though
It has an evil twin
That twists it around and lies
Using the eyes
Love – comes with responsibility
Lust – comes with the high of desire and the low of pain.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

Writer's Block........

My thoughts are filled with illusions,
As my head is filled with confusion,
Words are not coming to play as they should,
And the sequence of consonants are not producing meaningful pronunciations,
I used to write for my own mental rejuvenation,
But this I’ve had to avert and write for the general population,
There’s a seed in me that is still growing,
A breed in me that no one has seen before,
But I need the words in me to copulate,
So that my ideas can regenerate and produce melody,
And thus,
The creation of a beautiful symphony of words and sound.

Written by Eyan.

MIRIAM

Miriam was about 12 years when she started noticing her body changing. Her breasts were getting bigger and tender by the day, her hips were getting round. She also noticed whenever she walked past a group of boys they would whistle and cat call. She found this so embarrassing and would blush every time. One morning she woke up and found her bed sheet as well as her nightdress was bright red. She was scared to tell her mother in case she got a beating. So, lay back in her bed and when her mother came to enquire she said she was not feeling well. Once everyone had left the house, she jumped out of bed and quickly took a bath, burnt her bed sheets, changed them and went back to sleep. This happened every day until she could not take it anymore and spoke to her mother about it. Of course, by this time it had stopped. Her mother laughed and consoled her. She told her she was growing into a young woman and it was time to stop playing with boys.

Miriam was growing faster than she would have liked. In her clique, she was the first to develop. She missed running around with the boys, climbing trees and playing hunting games. Instead, she would stay home more and do housework or the chores her mother would give her. Because of this change in her free time she would sit in her room and read books. Mills and boons, romantic novels and wish she was like those beautiful ladies.

It was at around this time that her uncle (Macharia) came to visit. He had just finished high school and was waiting to go to university. The last time he visited, he was short but this time he had grown into a young handsome man. During this time, he teased her about her changing body. Her mother and father decided to let Macharia stay permanently. They thought that Miriam needed a tutor since she was weak in Math and Sciences. Macharia was fond of Miriam since she was his only niece who was close to his age.

Macharia used to come to Miriam’s room to talk and would stay for hours on end. It during one of this visits that he started playing the tickle game that ended in a kiss. It lasted more than a minute. She was so embarrassed and thought it was her mistake. Macharia made her promise not to tell a soul. Every day, he would come into her room and kiss her or lightly caress her breasts. She knew what he was doing was wrong but she was too scared to tell her mother.

It stopped for over a week because Macharia was not in town. When he came back he was so moody, she avoided him. Apparently, the marks he got were not efficient to get him into university. He mopped around the house and even refused to tutor her. Her parents had had hopes that he could join a college and do a bridging course and eventually get into university.

One night, she felt a presence in her room. She woke up to find a Macharia standing at her bedside. She stifled her cry, scared that he would hit her. He sat on the bed and covered her mouth with his hand. With the other hand, he undid the buttons of her pajama top. Slowly, he caressed her breasts and later bent his head to kiss her nipples one by one. She tried to remove his hand but he was too strong for her. He pulled her towards him and tried to kiss her but she resisted. His breath was reeking of alcohol. He pulled the bed covers back and climbed on top of her and entered her.

For three consecutive months, he came to her room and raped her. Miriam was an introvert by nature but she would talk when she had a problem. Her mother thought she was withdrawing because of teenage hood but her father sensed she wasn’t happy. Miriam and her father were close, not only was she his only little girl but also the apple of his eye.

To be continued……..

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

OBSESSION

I am so taken by you
I can’t get enough of you
My thoughts revolve around you
Yet I do not know you.
I search for you on the internet
I read your biography over and over
I listen to you
I read your articles over and over.
I want to know more about you
What do you do in your free time?
What do you like?
What do you dislike?
What are your favorite hangouts?
What side of the bed do you sleep on?
I watched you in the shopping mall
Holding your kids and goofing with your wife
Your family seems complete and happy.
But first
I have to get to know you better.
I passed the interview
Though your wife said I was over qualified.
I clean and cook for you
The other day
I walked into your room
Sat on your side of the bed
Wore your favorite pajamas
Slept on your side of the bed
It felt like you were holding me
Caressing me
Kissing me
Mmmmmm......


©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

SILENT PICTURES

Today I saw a man
Standing at the bus top
He approached the matatu
The conductor of the matatu stopped him
There was an exchange of words
Then his expression changed.
The conductor pushed him
He did not hit back neither did he grumble
His expression said it all.
I began to wonder
Why are we so cruel to each other?
Why do we treat people so badly?
Is it in us to be evil, underestimate and disrespect?
Or are these things we learn over time.
I think sometimes we do things without thinking or caring.
I am not perfect
You are not perfect
We are not perfect
A little love and compassion
Can go a long way
Back to the beginning
If the matatu conductor had acted differently
Maybe he would have put a smile on the strange man’s face.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

LADY LOVER.

Monday, Angela
Tuesday, Melanie
Wednesday, Tiffany
Thursday, Rosemary
Friday, Alice
Saturday, India
Sunday, Wife
He takes them to different restaurants
Picks them from work and drops them home.
The perfect gentleman he is
They love and adore him
He treats them well making sure all their needs are met.
To his wife
He is the provider
Doting father
And loving husband
He dons her in the best designer attire
From head to toe
Diamond engagement ring
Gold wedding ring
Sapphire wedding ring
He is always there for
Anniversaries, birthdays and other important occasions
To his friends
He is the role model
Successful business man and advisor
He is sharp, charismatic and charming
He is the perfect lady magnet.

But……

Under all that he has a weakness

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

BLANK

I hate moments like these
My mind becomes naughty
The devil sets in
Lays his tools
Begins his work
With all the tools being made
I become the devils workshop.
When I have no thoughts
In times like these
I think about s-e-x
Long distance shit
And
The bitterness in everyman’s soul

Hate.

©thelma migue, 2010

Written for John Kiarie.

From the cizoepoetry collection

FLOW

Let us go where the river takes us
Don’t make a fuss
Let us follow the river
Let the current guide us.

Take my hand
Hold tight
Look into my eyes
Keep the faith

Believe in me
One day you will receive
What you deserve.

Precious stones
Cannot measure
The experience
The thrill
The addiction

Don’t ask questions
Don’t put limits
Should we get lost?
The beats of our hearts
Will guide us back.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

PRISON OF ICE.

The pain I have gone through
The time I spent crying
The time I looked back
When I thought I had closed the door
I realized a left it open a jar
Over time
Things have worn off on me
I am scared of the unknown
When you get too close
I pull away into my hole
Close it a little bit
Shelter my heart and soul.
I don’t want this pain
It keeps coming back
When I least expect
It is driving me wild
I wrapped my heart
With barbed wire
When you try to pull it away
You tear a piece of me
I cry in pain
The wounds are bleeding again
The blood is red and fresh
The pain drowns me
I lose track of time
In my cocoon
I fall into a dreamless sleep
Full of my demons and dark moments
You may not understand
I am not easy to follow
Don’t pull away
This is the time I need the most help
This is when I need your hand to hold me
This is when I need your chest to lay my head
This is when I need your arms to keep me secure
My hands are numb
From chipping at the ice carved in stone
I may be strong on the outside
On the inside
I am weak


©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

YOU AND ME

Scenes of you flash through my mind
Holding and kissing me

Me,
Slowly unbuttoning your shirt
Kissing you from head to toe

You,
Laying me down and kissing my navel
Moving up to my lips

Me,
Stroking your back
Pulling you closer
And letting you in

You,
Moving slowly as we both mourn
You go deeper and deeper
Till we scream as we both climax

That was a day dream
I wonder how it would be in reality
[giggle]

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

DAVID

Here I am writing you a love poem
Holding back those tears
It’s been so long
It feels just like yesterday
So many years
Too many tears
After so long
I still feel the same.
I am wearing your favorite jacket
Your favorite pants – the ones you said brought out the shape of my ass
I catch a sniff of your cologne
Painful memories come flooding back
I pass by your favorite spots
Restaurants and pubs
Down our street
I stop by the florists
Buy a bouquet of roses and carnations
They were your favorite
I smile as I remember the way
You would hold the rose between your teeth
As we danced to salsa
For the last five years
This has been my routine
Every Sunday I check on you
Next time I will come with our little girl.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

TIRED AND OLD.

Don’t blame me
My heart has grown tired
I have loved
I have been loved
I have hurt
I have being hurt
My heart
Has lived through
All the pain and love
And survived
Don’t blame me
If I do not respond
Don’t blame me
If I am reluctant
Don’t blame me
If I am cautious
I have been down that road
I have lived through the honeymoon stage
As well as the fire and rain
I want to love again
My heart says it is tired
It needs a break
To recover and find its self.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

[GEORGE: GEORGINA: ME]......

I sat on the steps as the girls skipped rope.

I looked at their glittering eyes.

Their white teeth flashing.

I can notice a missing teeth in some of them.

I can see their pointed nipples as they jump about.

I secretly touch mine but there is nothing more than a scar.

Their smooth faces shining in the morning sun as sweat creped besides their temples.

Their soft feet padded the dusty floor as the rope swirled under their skirts.

Their little dresses and skirts swirled around as they exchanged turns.

Shrieking excitedly like they do at school during break time.

Their hands flapping in the air excitedly.

I watched the various colours of their attire.

Soft and loose dresses: with floral patterns in all colours.

They held the frills of their skirts with one hand.

I wished I could skip with them.

But I couldn’t because I was George and not Georgina.



They held their skirts so that I could not see their panties.

Because they knew I was a boy.

But I was fascinated by their play.

Wishing they could invite me.

But skipping was meant for girls and not boys.

Deep inside me I wanted to skip and play with the girls.

That is what I loved, what I craved for.

When they tripped and fell over they hit their heads on the ground while they firmly held their skirts.

I wish they didn’t do that.

I wish they knew I loved the panties, the colours and the shapes.

I wish they knew I was I loved their dresses and their skirts.

But they couldn’t because I was George not Georgina.



While dear mother did shopping for me, I became very moody.

Mother didn’t know why I was always annoyed on the shopping day.

She loved to shop with me and for me.

Just like all mothers did for their sons.

But I hated the shopping day.

Tears welled up in my eyes.

A lump would choke my throat as we passed the girls section.

Mother would be so distraught.

Because she didn’t know what I really wanted.

All my heart wanted was for mother to allow me to choose.

The dress from the girls section, because that what my heart desired.

But she wouldn’t know because I was George not Georgina.



I crept into my mothers’ closet.

So many dresses that I dreamt about for myself.

The colours, the patterns, the texture of each.

I ran my fingers through them.

I slowly drew them close to my nostrils.

I smelled them. I closed my eyes as I held my breath.

I touched my mothers’ bra and her knickers.

I removed my shorts and wore the pink pair.

Way too big for me, but I wished they could fit.

That’s what I felt like wearing, because that’s what my heart craved for.

The closet had a distinct smell, various mix of lotions and sprays.

I breathed deeply and exhaled graciously as my heart lit up.

I wish I had such a closet, but I can’t because I am George not Georgina.



School made me to loose a lot of time.

Worrying about my confidence and my life.

The direction my energies would be harnessed.

I was last at the urinal because I felt I didn’t belong.

I watched as the girls dashed to their cloakrooms,

Clearly marked ‘girls’.

My heart told me that is where I belong.

I marveled on the pleats on the girls skirts and hated my shorts.

I applied my lotion secretly all over my body while the boys didn’t use any.

I had a bottle of perfume stolen from mothers’ collection.

I applied it under the beddings at night.

I didn’t want the boys to know.

They would have laughed at me and teased me.

They would not accept me, because I was George not Georgina.





My first love was a boy.

Marvin was graceful and beautiful.

He read romantic books and everybody wanted to like him and be with him.

I loved his lips and his hips.

His gait and his poise. And his body.

Just a touch of mascara and a dash of lip gross and he was a King.

His chest was puffed and his voice was deep.

I started to talk to him, raise my fingers like Matilda and swipe imaginary hair off my face.

My mannerism changed and started to chase my dream.

My dream to be beautiful and loved.

To be admired and to attract attention just like Matilda.

But I couldn’t wear her clothes yet or be her, because I was George not Georgina.



I finally discovered my full potential.

I feel like Matilda, my heart is now truly Georgina.

My body and poise is all glowing and I don it whichever way I want.

The Georgina I was never allowed to be.

When my mates broke their voices my voice remained as soft as a girl.

When homeboys grew their facial hairs,

The moustaches and their beards, my face remained as smooth as a baby’s butt.

I can finally feel my butt sway like Matilda’s.

I feel good about myself and who I finally have become.

You can label me names.

GAY, QUEER, FAG whatever.

You can hate me; you can be phobic about me and my friends.

But you can never stop me because I have become.

I have accepted myself and what my souls say I am.

Finally I am, I will be and I will die Georgina.



© john-Kiarie 2010.

Broken.....

Broken woman, she's been broken,
Her soul bleeds,
He's sown seeds,
of hatred in her.
She raises her voice to the sky,
asking why,
She weeps, grieves, relieves her sadness through her tears.
Her sobs and moans reach the heavens.
She's been wasted, molested, jested, tried and tested.
The broken woman's been to hell and back.
See they think she's been broken,
They think her last she's spoken,
but she knows she'll rise,
it's in her blood,
mother nature's plan,
the broken woman will rise.

Written by Angie Sambasi

NEVER AGAIN.

Last night
I got home and was ready to relax
So I kicked off my shoes
Jumped in the bath tube
Had a bubble bath
Made dinner
Later I sat down with a glass of wine
Switched on the TV
There you were
Staring at me
Talking to me
Every word you spoke
Every time your lips moved
With every action
It was like you were talking to me.
The pain I felt
Like a dagger
You repeatedly stabbed my heart
I remember last week
I was standing behind a wall
I saw you in the mall
The tears run down my cheeks
They burnt my cheeks
Leaving tattoos of pain
As I lay my head on the pillow
I swore never again
As I was about to close my eyes
It hit me
I was dangerously in love
Suicidal love

© thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

CONFESSION

Forgive me father for I have sinned
It has been five years
Since my last confession
I love a man
I have converted him
In my mind and heart
It won’t be long before
I fall at his feet
And give up my grace.
His touch is like fire
His kiss is like poison
I dream about him every night
It won’t be long before
It becomes reality.
I come to you for peace of mind
Guidance and absolution
You are my only hope
Before I make that mortal mistake
There is no prayer
Suitable for my penance
To feel this way is forbidden
It is written in the bible
The wages of sin is death
Help me before I tarnish my soul.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

THE REVENGE PART V

As I sat watching my husband
Playing with our son
I went through the letters
That had come in that morning
This particular one
Caught my eye
It was addressed to me

Dear Madam,

How are you and your husband? Is life treating you well? Well I am sure he told you the whole story of how I kept him hostage and how he dramatically escaped. I knew it was useless to keep him hostage but I made it look like he changed my mind. I could see he loved you. I have been watching your family grow. You two make a lovely couple and with your son you are the perfect family picture.

Your husband did not get away easily. The day he left I nailed the last nail in the coffin. It is about time you both got tested. My revenge is ripe for the taking.

Kiss your son for me.

Yours truly,
………………………………..

I called my husband
Showed him the letter
As he read
His jaw dropped
The blood drained from his face
The only words I could think of
Sweet revenge.

THE END.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

HIS DECEIT Part IV

After listening to her
It was time to take things
Into my own hands
I was not about to become
Another statistic
……………………………………………………
I told her how beautiful she was
Watched her blush as she took the bait
She was sprung
I could see in her eyes
She admired me
No worshipped the ground I walked on.

……………………………………………………………
It wasn’t easy
Every day I played to her tune
Till the day she undid the bonds
We had wine
And enjoyed each other’s company
She took time to prepare herself
I took time lying in wait
For her to make her mistake

……………………………………………………….
The night came when I made love to her
She asked me to be gentle
She wasn’t a virgin
And wasn’t experienced either
I asked if she was protected
She said yes
With a sly smile
She said
She had been waiting her whole life for this

………………………………………………………………………………

As we were having breakfast in bed
She told me I was free to go
She had, had enough
And was sure I was anxious to get back to my sweetheart.

………………………………………………………………..
As I left I promised to keep in touch
Till this day I never have
If I broke her heart
Why should I care?
For three days
I went through hell
…………………………………………………………………………..

My sweetheart and I walked down the aisle
Into a new life
We said our vows and
Put the past behind us.


©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

The last part of the series posted tomorrow THE REVENGE Part V.

THE REASON Part III

You caught my eye
The day you walked by
I curse the day you talked to me
You made me hate school
Every day was a nightmare.
I know
You do not remember me.
I was the nerd
The one with the owl spectacles
The clumsy girl
Who always bumped into stuff
I would sit at the farthest corner
Of the field
Watching you train.
I used to be the butt of your jokes.
Do you remember the girl
You used to pile your homework on?
I would do it without complaining
When you passed your finals
You didn’t thank me
I swore one day you would pay.

………………………………………………………………………….

I went to campus
Graduated with honors
You left town
The next time I saw you was on television
You were being interviewed
You had just come back from an international match
The team had won
And you being the captain
Got the spotlight

………………………………………………………

I bumped into your best friend
We got together
He had feelings for me
But I had another agenda
He was my means to an end.
When I did come for your engagement party
I saw your jaw drop
And the envy in your sweethearts eyes
I stole the spotlight
For once I was the belle of the ball.
My name did not ring a bell
……………………………………………………………..

Overtime I changed
From the caterpillar I became a butterfly
I got rid of the spectacles
Started wearing contacts
And later went for laser treatment
I became a beautiful woman
Not just with looks but with brains.

……………………………………………………………………

From the bully
You became a gentleman
Don’t forget
I know
The gutter you came from
I loathe you
For everything you did to me
Your cries do sound a little bit too familiar
“Please don’t hurt me”.
“Why?”
“Please, please, I will do anything.”

Now let's see
If you can make it in time

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

Look out for Part IV THE DECEIT

HIS VERSION. Part II

What did I do?
To deserve this
I was minding my own business
You said hello
And like a gentleman
I replied
I did not lead you on
Infact, if I remember
You talked to me first
You asked questions and
I answered them appropriately
I heard you were asking questions about me
I started getting suspicious
When I saw you at every function
You were at my engagement party
Your date was my best friend.
When did things start to go wrong?

……………………………………………….

A letter was delivered
To my house
I was invited to a party
To a mansion
On the hills
I arrived
The place was empty
It felt eerie.
Then I saw you
Dressed in a devil red dinner dress
“Where are the other guests?” I asked
“It is just you and me.” You answered
I turned to leave
You run and blocked the door
Asked me to stay
Like a gentleman
I did abide by your wishes
We sat down to have dinner
You poured the wine
It was red just like blood
It was sweet to the tongue
As I drank you had that look
That devilish look
That is when it hit me
I know you
You are….

……………………………………………….
I woke up in a strange room
It was dark and smelled sweet
I was alone
I tried to move
But I was tied to a bed.
You walked in
In a black dress
Looking like one of Satan’s demons
Your smile was innocent
You kissed me
Told me not to worry
If I cooperate I would be free before dawn
…………………………………………….

I am scared very scared
Somebody help me
Before tomorrow
That was when you
Cut a part of me
Put it in a plastic packet
Wrote a letter
To my sweetheart
And signed it with my blood

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

Catch THE REASON Part III tomorrow...

BABY

Baby will you hug me tight and never let me go.
Will you kiss me like you did the first time?
Will you play with me and later in the night?
Make sweet love to me.
I miss you
I need you
After a long day
Will you hold me in your arms?
Kiss my forehead and whisper
Everything will be alright
Will you rock me to sleep?
Sing a sweet lullaby
And when I wake up in the middle of the night
Screaming in terror because I just had a nightmare
Will you chase all the boogiemen away?
When my heart is heavy?
Will you sit and listen?

This I ask as I drift into my lonely slumber

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

HER VERSION. Part I

I am not stalking you
I just want to get to know you
You see
I have watched you
For some time now
We go to the same restaurants
Mix with almost the same clique
Come from the same class
The few times you have looked at me
You acknowledged my presence with your smile.
Your conversations intrigue me
I watch your lips as you speak
Before I meet you
I just want to know a little bit more
…………………………………………

Things didn’t have to be this way
You didn’t need to be rude
I was trying to be nice
If you had let me entertain you
Just pretended that you felt me
I liked you may be loved you
If u didn’t stab me
With your words
And push me away
With your actions
There are so many if’s…..
Too many why’s…..

I am forced to write this letter
Send a piece of you
As my evidence
And sign the letter with your blood.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

Look out for HIS VERSION Part II on Monday.

WORTHWHILE?

On the verge of a breakdown
She began to wonder
If what she had done was right.
She had sacrificed her life
Given her time
And most of all her heart
I am not ready for this
I love my space
Time and freedom
What do I do?
Where do I turn?
She thought.
If she left
There was a of not getting another
If she stayed
She risked the chance
Of losing her dignity
She couldn’t live with that
The questions kept running
Through her mind
She asked around
But did not get an honest reply
They all said what she wanted to hear
Or what they thought she wanted to hear.
So she sat down
Weighed the pros and corns
When the door opened
She had made her decision.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

Too Many Tears.

Because she would not listen....
Now she sits and stares,
stares...
At the bare walls before her.
She sits and stares and and tears fill her eyes,
As she remembers the lies,
lies...
From her lover.
He swore never,
never...
to leave her.
Mama warned her...
but she just would not listen.
Now she sits and stares and tears fill her eyes,
her haughtiness gone,
the smile on her her face no more,
He filled her up and left,
left...
She sits and stares and tears and tears fill her eyes,
As she cradles the poor bastard child,
in her tiny arms.
She sits and stares and tears fill her eyes,
Because she would not listen...

Written by Angie Sambasi.

MY LOSS….MY GAIN

When he left me
I was ready to cut my heart out
And die
When he left me
I was ready to slash my wrists
And bleed till he came back
When he left me
I was so in love with love
I could not see how I could
Live without love
Living without him
Meant I was unlovable
Undesirable
Suicidal
He was my idol
I made him my world
He was my oxygen
He was my sun and moon.

I look back and realize
I was hurting
I do not hate myself
For loving him that way
It was just tragic
That it had to end
Though in a way
I am glad it ended
That was the only way
I began to love myself and my flaws
I do not have to see myself
Through another’s eyes
By beginning to love myself
That was the beginning of my healing.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

SO HARD.

Every time I start a text message
Pick up the phone to call you
The smile on my face disappears
It turns into a frown.
My eyes start to tear
My hands begin to shake
I am so afraid.
If I say hi
You may hear
How much I miss you
Just the sound of your voice
Will make my voice quiver.
It is sad
I can’t do this
I turn on the radio
Listen to the song
Think of you
And write a poem
In your honor.
Every word
Every phrase
Every emotion
Spells your name.
Now I stand
In front of the crowd
Thinking what would you say?
If I told you
I miss you
I need you
And sadly
I can’t live without you.

©thelma migue,2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

LOVER OF MY DREAMS.

Each and every night
You wake me up
I am not able to protest
I am your prisoner.
I think about you everyday
I think about what you would do?
I can almost hear you speak
We have a conversation in my head
You take a bath with me
Gently scrub my back
Kiss my neck
And in the dead of the night
You make sweet love to me.
It is was a fantasy
Now it is becoming reality.
Gently I touch your face
Whisper your name
You hold me in your arms
As we stare into the night.
You hold me tight
As we sleep through the night.
And in the morning
In the morning
In the morning you are gone
Like a thief from the night.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

I WISH.

I wish I was your girl
I would love you
I would come home early
I would love to loved by you
Be swept in your arms.

Why do you love her?
She treats you bad
More like trash.

I watch you
After every game
You smile
Search the crowd
Bow your head
Wipe your tears.
Hiding your disappointment
You walk with your head
Held high
Receive your trophy
Say a few loving words
Then walk away.

If I was her
I would be by your side
Treasure every moment
Never make you cry.

You kiss the kids goodnight
Tuck them in
You are the perfect father
I wish I was your girl.

I listen to the plea in your voice
Every time you ask her why?
She shrugs her shoulders
Sighs and walks away.

Behind closed doors
I hear you cry
Asking the Lord why?
Why does it have to hurt?

I see your tears
I feel your fears
Love me instead
And you will never cry only smile.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

GONE TOO SOON.

Full of life
A life so surreal
Too little time
God choose the time.

In the midst
We see your face
You touch us
With your grace

Your memory
Will last a lifetime
The ache in our hearts
Will forever remain.

Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
Gone in the flesh
Forever in our hearts.

Dedicated to Sylvester Ndungu Njenga R.I.P.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

JUMBLED THOUGHTS...

Take my hand
Hold it tight
Never let me go.

Hold me close
Wrap your arms around me
Keep me warm through the night.

As we lay down
Cuddle me
Pull me close
Kiss my temple.


Nothing ever feels the same
Nothing is as it seems
Why?
Why does love have to be so complicated?
Why is a yes a no?
Why is a no a yes?
As old as we are
We still ask
What is love?
Is it an emotion?
Is it an invisible dagger?
That stabs you in the heart
Is it a drug?
That gives you a high
Then let’s you down
When you least expect it.
We cry tears
That could fill a river
We hurt
The pain we feel
Has the ability to rip us apart.

I stand in front
Of these two doors
No idea which to open
I have the choice
To leave love behind
And love the flesh
Then I have another choice
To take what I have always wanted
Be loved like never before
To be appreciated as me
But wait……

I am torn
You say you love me
Do you know what love is?
Do we know what love is?
Are we ready to feel?
The pain and pleasure of love
Are we ready to walk?
The rocky road
That is smooth
In the beginning
Then somewhere
It gets rocky
With thorns and stones

Don’t wipe your tears
Let them flow
For once be yourself
Remove that mask
Yes I am talking to you.
Love like you have never loved
Enjoy the bliss of love
Love like there is no tomorrow
Like hate and hurt do not exist.
When you see the one you love
Whether married or not
Hug them tight
Hold them tight
Like you will not be there tomorrow
Kiss them full on the lips
Forget the crowd watching
Forget the disapproving eyes
Kiss like it is your last kiss.
How does it feel?
How does it feel to let go?
And be yourself

Now….
Walk away
With a smile on your face.
Take a deep breath…

Now….
Put the mask back on….

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

In Your Love.....

In
your love, I’ve begun to perish,

I’ve
begun to cross my limit,

Sometimes
I’ve begun to live,
Sometimes
die..

There’s
so much attraction in your eyes,

Its
always an excitement to see you,
There
is such anxiety in my heart,

That
I’ve started melting in your arms,

Sometimes
I burn, sometimes I get doused,

Lonely
mornings, lonely evenings,

I’ve
started getting afraid of the loneliness,
Sometimes
I feel I’ve started going astray,
Sometimes
I feel I’ve started getting scattered,

Since
I started meeting you..
I’ve
begun crossing my limits.

Written by Sheila Lesley.

IRONIC.

“What’s your name?
What’s your number?
Am glad I came
Can I take your order?”

That was the song that was playing
When she walked into the club
It was also the song
Playing in her head
For the past three days.
Just as she left the bar
With her drink in hand
She bumped into him
Spilling her drink all over him
Oh my gosh
I am so sorry
As she looked at him
She froze
She was speechless
He is, was….
She got bored
Strode to the dance floor
Swung her hips to the beat
He danced towards her
He put his hands on her hips
In unison
They moved
One, two,
One, two, three…
He moved closer
As his hips touched her hips
As he rocked her
He sang in her ear…
“What’s your name?
What’s your number?
Am glad I came,
Can you take my order?”

…………………………………………….

She sat there
Looking at him
Sleeping next to her
Ironic isn’t it
How and where
You meet your soul mate.
Three years later
With two kids
They were still
Totally in love
He was the man
She had seen in her dreams.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

ME.

It is hard for me
To come to terms with me.
I would love like to be
I am not able to.
I look in the mirror
And see failure
Imperfection.
Others look at me
And see beauty
That is more than skin deep.
I am imperfect
I have a flaw.
It cringe
When you speak about it
I try to run
Yet it follows me
I am afraid to look at me
What I would love to see?
Is not what I see.
It has taken years to get here
I was told I have low self esteem
You were dead wrong.
I have learnt to live with rejection
You ask how?
Only I know how.
God made me like this
But he gave me other abilities
That are way beyond and above your intellect.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

LAST TEAR.

A drop of rain,
On barren ground,
Her love was nothing,
Like torture and pain.

She stood in the shadows,
Suffered in silence,
Waited for the time,
To speak her heart.

Instead of happiness,
She got pain,
Life had dealt her,
A cruel hand.

She cried for love,
She cried for what could never be,
She knew in her heart,
She had lost a love so surreal.

Facing reality,
The last chapter,
She woke up,
From her loveless dream.

© thelma migue, 2009

from the cizoepoetry collection.

WEEP NO MORE.

Weep no more my child
I may be gone
I am not far away.

Weep no more my child
With these arms I will hold you
Shelter you from harm.

Weep no more my child
With these palms
I will dry your tears

Weep no more my child
In the physical
I may be gone.

My love will never
Be far away.
Weep no more my beautiful child.

©thelma migue,2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

PERFECT PICKUP.

He sits at the table in the corner sipping drinks
She sits at the bar orders a glass of wine
Crosses her legs,
Her pose spells invitation.
He looks at her
She looks at him
With his eyes
He invites her to his table.
She is mesmerized by his boldness
She walks up to him
He takes her hand
Kisses her hand
And says my lady.
He orders more wine
Lights a cigarette
As he watches her slowly marinate.
He carries her to the car
Straps her in
And drives off to the motel.
Once inside
He stripes her naked
Handcuffs her to the bed.
Her screams pierce the air
With every whip
Her whimpers and pleas turn him on .
Brutally,
He enters her
She is no match for his strength
In one last attempt
And with the last ounce of strength
She has, she bites his shoulder
Drawing blood.

Later that morning
A body is discovered
Behind the city hospital
Another beautiful victim
Her crime:
She wanted to have a good time.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

MY TAKE.

Some say love is a woman
Some say love is a man
Some say love is a baby
With a bow and an arrow
That shoots you through the heart
called cupid.
I say love is a twisted emotion
That makes you all warm inside
But when it leaves you,
You are bitter, cold and torn inside.
I have a bounty out for it.
The reality is
Love does eventually leave you
Just like life
Love dies
The difference
It never is in the obituaries.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

DILEMMA!

I love my man
Though,
I am at my wits end.
Every night he is out
And when he does return
He is too tired to talk
And his voice is hoarse.
He does not drink alcohol
Neither does he smoke
Though every night he comes home
He smells like a brewery
And his shirt stinks of cigarette smoke.
Sometimes I can swear
I smelt traces of a perfume.
When I confront him
He denies it
Kisses my forehead
Looks me in the eyes and says
“You know I love you,
The last thing I would do is cheat on you.”
But,
As soon as the phone rings he is out the door.
I am not a drama queen
Though, I miss being the centre of his attention.
I have heard enough of this
I gather up my courage
Walk up to him
And just as I am about to talk
He yells…..

Goaaaaaal…..
Now tell me how do I compete with that?

©thelma migue,2010

MY PLEA continued......

Angelina had not seen her mother since the trial. She longed to see her but was scared of the outcome. She was not prone to emotions but at this point, she would have broken. Despite her denial, she secretly blamed her mother for not changing things or trying to walk out. Auntie Mary and Uncle James treated her like a daughter. Her cousin Nikki loved her like a sister. They were close, very close.

As she stood in front of the mirror putting the last touches to her makeup, she thought she saw mother stand beside her. Mama she whispered her childhood pet name.

In church as the choir sang amazing grace, her mother’s favorite hymn. Her thoughts went back to the happy times they had as a family. Why? Why? A tap on her shoulder from Uncle James brought her back to reality. Carol mothers best friend, had just finished reading the eulogy and now it was her time. She stood up walked towards the altar, hands shaking as she infolded the little piece of paper.

The coffin stood in front of her as she began to read….

Dear mama,

Thank you for the letter. I am very well and Auntie Mary treats me like family. She and Uncle James are awesome. I feel like part of the family.

I always suspected there was something wrong but I could never get to the bottom of it. I guess my small little mind was too pre occupied with school and games. I do remember the day daddy took you away. He told me that you were not very well and needed to be away for some time to get better and that when you came back you would be a better mummy. I remember going to school and all the teachers looking at me with pity and the minute my back was turned I would hear them whisper. It tore my heart apart and I did not tell you because I did not want to be a burden.

I longed for a younger sibling like every other only child. I did not refuse to come and see you. I was ashamed. You see, I thought I was the course of your problems with daddy. I thought it was because I was naughty and sometimes came home with bad grades.

It is too late to tell you this, I love you mummy and I will miss you. Despite all the bad things I heard daddy say and heard daddy do to you. You were the best mummy I ever had.

I hope you get to read this soon.

Your loving daughter,

Angelina.


©thelma migue,2010

LAST WORDS.

In the event that i should die before i wake
lord help me before my soul u take.
Let me empty my heart
for burdens sake
so the load is lighter
as we take.
I have loved u more than life
laid out my life for you.
As you chased other girls
made love and gave your heart
In the shadows was i keeping watch.
When u needed a hand i was there
my shoulder carried ur weight
and absorbed your tears.
Today i lay on my bed
tired and weary waiting for you to come.
My last thought is will you miss me.
I close my eyes
take my last breath
the room is silent
after the last beep....

Time of death yesternight.
Reason for death cardiac arrest
due to heart break.

©thelma migue,2010.

OMG!

I woke up this morning
Feeling kind of funny
I had this feeling
This weird feeling.
I took a shower
Got dressed
And made breakfast.
I sat down
Took my first sip of tea
It tasted like water that had ash.
I took a bite of my sandwich
It tasted like cardboard.
I was famished
My appetite had vanished.
I started feeling dizzy
My tummy was feeling queasy
I called work
Said I was not feeling well.
Took a cup of black strong tea and relaxed.
The feeling was back with a bang
This time I was in the loo emptying my guts out.
Damn! What did I eat last night?
I pull myself together
Go and see the doctor.
After, he has performed all the tests
He sits down, looks me in the eye
He smiles and says,

My dear…..looks like you are going to be sick for the next 9 months.

©thelma migue,2010

My Woman: My Way....

Respect for women, Love so pure, He doesn’t see his woman as a worker as the traditions says: he respects the culture but elevates his woman. He sees his woman as a partner. The dowry he will pay will not be equity for ownership nor a right for status. His woman will be a life partner to build a home, to raise children in love, to help the community and respect God. He will not abuse nor degrade his woman because he will view that as self inflicted abuse. He will share the aspirations and the dreams of his women and make her better. He will respect her as a wife and a friend and share in her worries and pain. He will know that out of a million choices he choose her which is special in its' own way and respect that sanctity of marriage. He hopes God will walk with him on this path. He will love his woman, love, pure and unconditional.

© john-Kiarie 2010.

GET OUT!

How could you?
I trusted you
Why did you?
You were my friend
I thought I knew you
Get out
Get out of my house
Get out of my life.
You?
Yes I am talking to you
Don’t you dare walk away?
My God
I trusted you
I gave you my life
I gave you my all
And you do this?
You and her
All those times
All the clues
I was so blind
You break my heart
From that I will heal
But my trust
You will never have….

©thelma migue, 2010

EYES…..

You stare at me
Like you know me.
You look at me
Like you want to talk to me.
Your mouth opens
You are about to say something.
Our eyes meet
We turn and look away.
There is no need to talk
I know what you want
You know what I want.
We alight together
Stop and turn
Our eyes say goodbye.

©thelma migue,2009

ABORTION - MY STORY

I wish I was here. Sitting with you all and enjoying the fun. This is my story:

My mother was one of those classy ladies who lived in the suburbs. She came from a very wealthy family. She abstained from sex till she met my father. My father was from a wealthy family too. He lived in the same neighborhood. Mother and father met at a party. They did not mingle that much because they were being chaperoned by their parents (my grandparents). Through their friends, they got each other’s contacts and later on met up.

Their first date was over a cup of coffee. Some of their friends were their just to keep an eye on them. Mother (Let’s call her Stacy) found it quite awkward but after a few dates, the girl shyness faded and the real beautiful butterfly matured. In father’s arms she found comfort and was able to forget the pressures of her family.

According to Stacy’s diary, the first time they made love was magical. Giving in to him was awesome and he made her a woman. You see, their love was pure, selfless and forbidden. They were from different backgrounds – what I mean is mother was African and father was Asian. The families did not approve.

Later in the relationship mother found out that she was pregnant. She was totally scared but found the courage to confide in father (Let’s call him Parth) and tell him. Well, he was partly responsible. If he had used protection and not ignored her plea, this would not have happened.

Stacy and Parth gathered the courage to tell their parents who were so enraged. My grandfather threatened to disown his son. Since they were not able to fend for themselves they were forced to do the inevitable. They were against it but it was beyond them. Stacy reluctantly went to the clinic and terminated the pregnancy. She was not the same after that. She was in and out of depression for three months. Parth was forced to end the relationship.

Three years later they got together and eloped. Their families are not happy with it but they both believe that love prevails. If they had done that earlier they would have had me and I would be a beautiful toddler.

Sometimes I look at them and wish that was me they were holding, kissing and cuddling. I am surrounded by all these other babies who never got a chance to tell their stories.

©thelma migue, 2010

MY LOVE

My heart is flooded
I have so much to say
I am scared to talk
For I may sound
Desperate and childish.
My feelings have grown
From friendship to love.
Interesting
You don’t belong to me
Yet I feel that you do
I do not get to see you often
Though I miss you terribly
Sometimes I look back
And ask myself
If we had met 10 years ago
Would we have been or not been?
Interesting how someone grows on you.
At the time you did care
You were so consumed with another
Then later you begin to see
What beauty they possess.
I may not be able to say this
To you in person
You may see it posted
Don’t be mad
I will say this once
I love you
But my love comes with distance.

©thelma migue, 2010

MY PLEA.

My dear Angel,

It must be hard with not having your mother there to guide you and watch you grow. You must be a very beautiful and clever girl. Your auntie Mary comes to see me one in a while and tells me all about your escapades. She says there is a part of you that is closed to her and I know that is the part where you hurt the most. I know you loved your father very much and thought he was the perfect man. I long to see you. Every time your auntie comes alone, my heart breaks. Knowing you will not forgive me breaks me. Here is my story, you may not understand or want to read on but please…this is my last plea.

I met your father ten years ago in college. It was love at first sight. I took him home to meet my parents and they loved him. My mother – your grandmother said he was the perfect gentleman. We got married three years later and got you. We were elated; we were going to be parents. We planned everything from before you were born right to the time I came home from the hospital with you. Your father loved us and provided well. I gave up my job to spend time with you and look after you instead of a house help. Your father got a promotion and we were all happy but it came with a price. It meant him working long hours and spending less time with us but at least we had him for the weekends. Things were going perfectly and he got an offer from another company resigned and joined them. The time he spent with us was minimal but he took care of us well.

As soon as you were in school, I started a business from home. I made sure that it did not interfere with our time together as a family. I am not sure when things started getting crazy but I remember the first time your father hit me. It was after we came home from a cocktail party. He was apologetic so I forgave him and blamed it on the alcohol. He did not hit me again after that. One day, he came home after a long business trip as I was sitting at the vanity table brushing my hair just before we were to go to bed he threw a glass at me. Luckily it missed my face and shattered the mirror. Before I knew what was happening he was pulling my hair. He dragged me and started kicking me. The last I remember is waking up in hospital aching all over. When I tried to sit up I felt this horrible pain in my abdomen. The nurse informed me that I was two weeks pregnant and I had lost the baby. I was devastated and all I could think about was you. I still wonder to this date if your father suspected I was expecting. I still ask myself why he did that.

Soon after I fell into depression and got admitted in a psychiatric hospital. I am sure you remember. I remember the day your father drove me to the hospital you were in tears. I can still see your tear stained face. It broke my heart. My situation was not that bad and three months later I was out and ready to come home.

We had a long talk with your father .I wanted a divorce and he was not for it. He threatened me and told me if I left him he would destroy me. I decided to stay so as not to disrupt your life. I felt like I was living on a prison. Six months ago, I was leaving when he walked in and found our bags in the sitting room. You were in school. A quarrel ensued and he threatened me to kill me. He disappeared into the study and just as I was leaving he repeated if you leave this house I will kill you. I thought he was bluffing till I had the gun shot. He missed me and the bullet hit the door. He started hitting my face with the gun as I screamed for help. I got hold of the gun and tried to rustle it way from him when I had the gun shot. In the struggle I had accidentally shot him. I did not do it on purpose it was self defense.

I hope one day you will understand the pain and torture I went through. I long to see you one last time. I will be waiting at the table in the corner of the courtyard at 10:30am. I long to hug you and kiss your cheek one last time. This is my plea as a mother. This will be the last time we see each other.


Your loving mother,

RED DEVIL

Yesterday,
I woke up
Feeling like a fool.
I shouldn’t
I could’ve
If I walked away
I wouldn’t
Be feeling this way.
Like a drug
I am addicted to you
I can’t help it
You keep pulling me back.
I walk to the shower
There I get refuge
I know once there
I can escape you.
You touch me
Your grip is tight
I am sprung
Strung out
Whatever, you want to call it.
I walk towards you
Just looking at you
Consumes me
In the event
That I should bend
And I can’t resist
May they know I tried.
I really did try.
A tear streams down my cheek
As I slowly give in
Slowly give up the fight….

As you touch my lips
Slowly trickle down my throat
I give up the fight
For my thirst is quenched
For another night
Till I begin to fight
At the dawn of tomorrow’s sunrise.

©thelma migue, 2010

Kandie.....Untitled.....

Loving silently has been his mark,
saying most by his
hands,
saving most for her heart,
he values the art of
time and pace,
judge not his seemingly cold face,
indeed his has
always been a firm case,
action and reaction ...a critical phase,
after all in the world of the her and him as is the
case,
the domain of cut and paste is,
be beseeched do not make haste.

Written by Kandie Chetalam.

Claris.....Untitled.....

I think about you...
A little more each day
Holding on a little tighter
to all the words you say.
Everyday I miss you
more than the day before.
Our times together
I love and want even more.
I used to dream of you
as I lay in bed each night
now you're my dreams
even through the day lights.
Now am not sacred
to admit... I find my heart
needing you...
I love you... I miss you.

Written by Claris Ogombo

LESBIAN LOVE

I love the smell of her perfume
I love the way she looks at me
Her lips say hello
Her smile says I want you
Her eyes undress me.

She lightly touches my shoulder,
Kisses my check softly,
Hugs me affectionately.
Her hand lingers in mine.

Her walk is inviting
The way she moves
The way she licks her lips
I am awed by her presence.

When she talks to me
I don’t hear what a word
I am caught, struck
My emotions ran haywire
When I am around her.

If I could make her mine
Just one night with her
Just one dance
One kiss
Set me free.

©thelma migue, 2010

My Heart.....

I’m just a heart beating in your chest

I’m red and pump blood to my best

I beat faster when you fall in love

I try to tell you to seek answers from above

I’m not so wise you should know

I get broken and make you feel low

I hate cupid and his arrows;

If I could I’d pluck his eyebrows

When you see that lady in the street

I know I have to pump blood so I’m up on my feet

I rarely work in tandem with your mind

And I’m at ease when you unwind

I still remember the girls that dumped you

They broke me to pieces and I still blame you

I wish you could pamper and take care of me

I’m a slave in your chest can’t you see

I know love very well and she’s blind

I keep telling you but you listen to your mind

Sometimes I want to stop beating and just scream,

Take a vacation and go for ice-cream

But I’m just a heart beating in your chest

I’m red and pump blood to my best.

Written by Eriq Ochieng.

THUG N GENTLEMAN

The thug:
He has the swagger
He is a hustler
He comes from the streets.
He rides with the best
He doesn’t take anything for granted.

The gentleman:
He opened doors for her,
Pulled chairs for her,
He always sought her opinion.
She came first.

Her dilemma:
She loved both
The same but differently
Get my drift……

When she walked down the aisle
She said I do to the gentleman
When the sunset,
She made love to the thug….

©thelma migue,2010

I Loved You......

I loved you with my empty pockets

Desired you from my eye sockets

I loved you with my manly lips

Relished you down to your hips

I loved you with the prints of my hands

Bathed with you in my sea; next to soft sands

I loved you from September to November

Always there for you, don’t you remember?

I loved you with poems from my pen

Made you a queen among the other women

I loved you with words; in thought

Still keep the gifts that you bought

I loved you with chocolate and wine

Showed the world your heart was mine

I loved you with texts and calls

Picked you up through your falls

I loved you with the darkness, the light

Always kissed you at the end of every night

I loved you with the rain; the sun

Told you some jokes; had some fun

I loved you with my whole heart

Still loved you when you broke this heart

I loved you with all the fibres in my being

Tried to tell you but there was a guy you were seeing

I once loved you. . .

Written by Eriq Ochieng

TORN WORLDS

Was it by chance we met,
Is it by fate we have never met?
How is it we talk with each other,
Yet we have never talked to one another?
How come we recognize each other so well,
Yet we even don't know one another?
Tell me,
How did you come to inhabit a part in my heart,
Yet my words, my being,
Cant describe what you are to me....
Is it destiny that 'brought' us together?
Is it fate keeping us apart?

Written by Fa Mulan

MY HUSBAND.....

I love a man who belongs to the community. If someone had warned me I would probably have thought twice and guarded my heart but maybe I wouldn’t have. He says I come first but I feel otherwise. His fingers are always on his blackberry keys and his eyes and ears listening for his phone in case it rings.
Technology has his heart and what I thought was mine is theirs. I have to share.

Women come up to me and tell me how lucky I am and how they would love to be in my shoes. I smile and say thank you. They don’t see the tears in my eyes, the sadness behind my smile and the pain in my voice. My heart cries out for him. I pose for the cameras and hold my baby tight and live in the moment. I kiss and hold him in public and they all ohhh and ahhh and say what a lovely couple with envy in their eyes. My children are my strength. They are the reason I hang in there.

The other day, I heard that he has a clandestine. The woman is young. A single mother with two beautiful children. I wonder if they are his but my heart says otherwise. I wish he would look at me the way he looks at her. I feel the energy in his voice when he comes home after he has been with her. I hear the disappointment in his voice when she cancels their date. I don’t envy or loathe her, I pity her. She may think she has his heart but I have more of him. We share the same bed but we are strangers living in the same house.

©thelma.migue,2010

Mirror.....Mirror.......

Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?
She who smiles sweetly and curse just as well?
Or she who laughs gingerly and walks like she touches not the ground.
Maybe she with a face that cause riots,and a body smoking hot.
Or i blessed only in speech and a head on my shoulder?
Mirror mirror,on the wall,tell me,am i the fairest of them all?

Written by Annie Karma.

My Cry...........

i'm crying
crying as i bid you farewell
welling up into eternity is the sorrow
sorrowing for the death of us...
i'm crying
crying as i pack away the memories
memorising your smile
smiling at bygone moments of bliss...
i'm crying
crying as i stare at this sky so blue
blue is the very core of my being
being forced to live without us
i'm crying
crying at the sight of your wounds
wounding me with your words of anger
angered by my careless words...
i'm crying
crying for me for us...

Written by Krystal Kisia

LET GO!!

Put your hands up
Let yourself go
Sing along with me.
Close your eyes
Move with me
Let your troubles go
Let the stress out.
Lift your hands
Wrap them around his neck.
Kiss him tenderly
Let your fingers slide
Down his side
Lightly and softly
Kiss his torso
Make him mourn
Put your head to his chest
As he slowly breathes in and out……
Let him lift you up
And turn you around
Open your heart and soul
Let him in
Don’t resist
He may miss
Do you feel him?
Let yourself go.


Screams……Silence…… Hear beating……..exhale….inhale……
Open your eyes……..
Wipe your tears….
As the song ends……………

©thelma migue, 2010

GOODBYE.........

I don’t want to cry,
I don’t want to fall apart,
I try to keep it together,
But……
Cracks are showing in the wall,
The wall is breaking
Slowly ….slowly
The chips are fallings
I try to keep it together
I am not strong enough.
I look at you
You look at me
No words can describe
How we feel.
Don’t say it…I whisper
But you can’t hear it
You are already out the door…..

I ran to the door
Just before it closes
Wait I say
You forgot to say…….

©thelma migue, 2010

Untitled.......love poetry.........

buy me a rose/no grow me a garden let me know the depth of your affection send the wind to wispher a serenade i love me a man that loves me real so love me strong love me good allow me not to get lonely.keep my heart keep it in yours i want everythng i want your life give your soul to me surrender yourself to my passion let me kiss your lips and make you taste my sweetness.go with me on this journey lets meet ecstasy you and me...

Written by Marriam Wabuke.

Mmmmmhhhhh.......

Whenever it starts drizzle,
I always get this spine chilling sizzle,
And my lips just want to nibble,
But my bare feet just want to make wonderful ripples,
And the sensual waves spread to my nipples
And then I start to giggle...
This feeling can't be confused,it's as clear as crystal!
Oh,the joy of discovering!

Written by Hope Dominique.

Rickedie Crique Rickedie Crack.....

rickedie crique rickedie crack,
the old mahogany bed in the shack.
rickedie crique rickedie crack,
she was my love,
but l'm still hung on crack...
rickedie crique rickedie crack,
lost my senses when she turned out the lights,
rickedie crique rickedie crack,
I'm in love so what you think of that...

Written by Maharaj Gitau Bernard

FRUSTRATED

Like a dog
With no teeth
We try to bite.
Like a farmer
Without a jembe.
Who cannot cultivate
We are expected to work
In these conditions
And be productive.
Like abracadabra
They expect results
Perfect results.
Say bollocks
Walk away
Without a fight
Maybe they will see the light.

©thelma migue, 2010

Kandie Work.........

Please come close,
and let us make this...,
a session treasured,
lets us exchange thoughts ,
in the flickering glow of candle light,
and dine on soul food,
as the wax sensually as it may,
wears down the beauty of,
a night such as this.

Written by Kandie إسماعيل

love me while you can,
sink not beloved,
say at it all before its tanned,
because the future sometimes,
is about moments like this.

Written by Kandie إسماعيل

Promises.........

A night full of promises for tomorrow,
A night insatiable for the sunrise.
A young maiden's heart
was caught up in that confusion.
Completely taken by surprise.
She longed for her Lovers touch
to hold,to kiss,to tell him
that she loves him...
Only to her dismay
her lovers heart
belonged to another
and she would have
to take that
to the Dawn...

Written by Hope Dominique.....

Love Bile......

I will love you for all time,
you are like kin
we can never share passion
it would be a sin.
Do not brand me cold
because i do not greet you with a lovers embrace,
i am more brother
now you see it in my face
passion has lost its place.
I will love you for all time,
but you can never be mine,
some boundaries we can never cross
for obvious reasons of course,
you are more friend than lover
my heart belongs to another
as my friend i will love you for all time.

Written by Yang Qwey Iro.

Hold These Hands........

Hold these hands,
they belong to you,
wrap into them and dream yourself calm,
they fit perfectly arise and reign.
Hold these hands,
and light a fire,
to light your way and reveal your steps,
own this fire,
let it dance to your inhale ,
and sing to your exhale.
Hold these hands,
and paint him fresh,
after all he is yours and you are his,
let him play his music,
this music that pounds you with so much feel.

Written by Kandie إسماعيل

While You Can........

Find love,
while you can,
kiss this woman,
make her burn,
grab this man,
use your charm,
life is short needless to say,
happen while you still can,
before time comes and you have nothing to sum.

Find your reason to be,
find cause; find peace,
rest on your thoughts,
believe that of the almighty,
inspire if you can,
be inspired if you would,
live!
to say the least.

Written by Kandie إسماعيل

A Vampire’s Plea (2)......

Her heart warmer than her sun compared to the cold of death that is mine.
Her love, providing the only warmth and desire for me to linger in a world that wants me not. A creature yet she promises to protect. I know not why a girl like her would want a guy like me. I know not why am rewarded, for my sins. For I have in the past on the verge of cravings broke the 5th commandment. I have when death crept on me, partake thee... Seen more drinking of man. I have, by default, sealed a deal with the devil himself. Immortality for my soul. Once more, if u must, for once more I must take the bite. Even though I fear for her soul, she is as stubborn as a mule. I would much rather be the one to bite than lose her to an adversary with the same fangs. Since its written that hell I must abode, must confess that it won’t be the same without her.

Written by Annie Karma

A Vampires Plea (1).........

Write my name in the book of death and in Hades make space for my soul. For I have tainted not only what have touched but what they in turn touch too. Ready the fires that will bound me captive for eternity and tarry not in wishing i will join the devil soon. But you'll have to wait awhile, for I wish not to exeunt this world yet.... See more though it’s sun condemn me to the dark and its holy shrines welcome me not. I will save my fangs for night, when drunkards crawl and wolves warn me away. And angels such as she believes in beasts such as me. Her perception of who I am are purer than all the thoughts I have heard men think in a millennia.

Written by Annie Karma.

IF ONLY.......

I miss you,
I wish you were still here
There is no day
That I don’t think about you.

Sometimes I mistake
Another for you.
I miss our arguments
Even though they were trivial
And always seemed to tick me off.

The way we sung those silly songs
Giggled to crazy jokes.
So many times I wished you were a guy
We would have probably dated
Got married and had a handful of children.

We both knew each other so well
Finished each other’s sentences
Stood up for the other
And did step on others toes
And loved it.

Please come back
I look back and realize
I was selfish not to try and change your mind.
I told you he was using you
You didn’t listen
You loved him

You came back in tears
Saying you were not ready
That the time wasn’t right.
I was happy when you said
You were leaving him
You had spent your money and time
On barren ground.
Now you were moving on.

I blame myself for not trying harder…..


Till I got the phone call….
“Is this Mary?” A husky male voice asks
“Yes.” I answer
“ Do you know somebody called Janet?” he asks
“Yes , yes I do. What I wrong?” I say impatiently

Warning bells start ringing in my head….
“We would like you to come and identify her. She died due to complications when undergoing minor surgery”…………

©thelma migue, 2010

TONGUE CRIMES

Oh no!
What have I done?
What took three years?
Gone in three minutes.

Under better circumstances,
In a better way,
The right choice of words
The difference.

In a moment,
In anger,
Did not mince my words
Spoke my mind.

The pain,
On your face,
The silence,
In the room

Nothing can compare,
To the look of death,
On your face.

© thelma migue, 2009