Monday, May 31, 2010


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.

Saturday, May 29, 2010


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

Wednesday, May 26, 2010


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

Monday, May 24, 2010


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

Saturday, May 22, 2010


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.


©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

Friday, May 21, 2010


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.

Thursday, May 20, 2010


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”.
“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

Wednesday, May 19, 2010


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...

Tuesday, May 18, 2010


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.

Saturday, May 15, 2010


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.

Monday, May 10, 2010


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.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Too Many Tears.

Because she would not listen....
Now she sits and stares,
At the bare walls before her.
She sits and stares and and tears fill her eyes,
As she remembers the lies,
From her lover.
He swore 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,
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.


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
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

Tuesday, May 4, 2010


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.


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.