Thursday, April 29, 2010


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

Wednesday, April 28, 2010


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.

Saturday, April 24, 2010


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 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

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

Put the mask back on….

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

In Your Love.....

your love, I’ve begun to perish,

begun to cross my limit,

I’ve begun to live,

so much attraction in your eyes,

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

I’ve started melting in your arms,

I burn, sometimes I get doused,

mornings, lonely evenings,

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

I started meeting you..
begun crossing my limits.

Written by Sheila Lesley.

Friday, April 23, 2010


“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.


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
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.

Thursday, April 22, 2010


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.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010


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.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010


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 .
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.

Monday, April 19, 2010


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.


I love my man
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.”
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…..

Now tell me how do I compete with that?

©thelma migue,2010

Saturday, April 17, 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,


©thelma migue,2010

Thursday, April 15, 2010


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.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010


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

Monday, April 12, 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.


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.
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

Saturday, April 10, 2010


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

Tuesday, April 6, 2010


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

Thursday, April 1, 2010


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.
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