Friday, December 30, 2011


I wear the symbol of our love,
It connects us heart to heart,
It is a constant reminder of our journey
From what we were to who we are now,
Every time I look at it
Every time I wear it
It speaks volumes.
I do not have to state my position
You did that a long time ago
Without it I am lost
Alone and vulnerable
With it I am protected
I am bound
It is a reminder of the promise
It is a reminder of the love shared
It is a reminder of the tears shed
The pain felt
The lonely days and nights
It brings us a step closer
Closer to what we are
Closer to the future
It keeps us close.
When the future becomes the present
It will move to the beat of my heart
I will take it to the grave
When my heart stops beating

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection

Tuesday, December 13, 2011


My emotions are everywhere.
They are a mixture
Anger, disappointment, disbelief
I don’t know where to start or how to start getting them together.
It is like someone cast a spell.
It feels like last year all over again
The chill, goose bumps, the dread
How will I explain?
Where do I start?
I made so many plans
I looked forward to so much
All that was shattered this afternoon
My heart chooses to deny it
My mind keeps trying to drag me into reality
I will be a better person
I try to hold my tears
I am trying to be the bigger person
Geez, tell me if you were in my situation
What would you do?
I can’t get myself to tell her
I just can’t
I know she will be elated
Pointing the finger and giving the look of “I told you so”
I so know she will
I can almost see her expression
Hear her words
“What did I say?”
“You know I am always right?”
“When will you learn to listen to me?”
“If you had done things as per my instructions, this would not be happening”
It is like someone is pulling the strings in my life.
I have asked myself over and over and over again
Why does this have to happen to me?
Why do I always have to be the one disappointed?
When will all this end?
Can’t I be happy?
For once in my life I deserve a little happiness.
Honestly, this is how I feel and more.

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Flow of Love...

Love flows like a river..moving sometimes against the will,
The wind is her compass„moving you each way she likes..
When strong tides push you over stoney grounds,that doesn’t mean that’s its over,
Love is moving you through unsure streams,to blue and cleared waters assuring smoother sailing ahead..
Even when you feel you’ve road her biggest wave,and the calm has just but sat in..
then comes another and often bigger wave, and life’s guard surfing where you have never been..
Cause when love water’s splashes,you’re not prepared..it flows..so uncontrolled,
It’s sometimes right,it’s sometimes wrong,but the sweetest due to the joy awoken in you…

Written by Sheila Mwikali

Monday, November 7, 2011


I miss those lazy quiet days
When I would lie in your arms
Cuddle close to you
Close my eyes and let myself go.

I miss the late mornings
When you would turn
Put your leg on my leg
Embrace me with your warmth
Kiss my cheek
And whisper you’re husky good morning.

I miss watching movies together
My head on your chest
You stroking my hair
As I stoke your torso.

I miss the precious moments
The kisses before I leave for work
The kiss when I get back
The kiss on my forehead
Your bushy beard
Brushing against my cheek.

I miss watching you
Cooking in the kitchen
As I lazily instruct you
Laugh at your know it all expression
And that sweet naughty look.

Every night before I go to sleep
I close my eyes and smell you’re sent
I imagine you kissing me tenderly
Slowly, making love to me.
As I dream of you
Knowing that as the sunsets and tomorrow the sun rises
I am another day closer to being with you again.

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection

Wednesday, September 28, 2011


When I look at your lips
And look at your eyes
They speak a different story.
You declare your love every day,
Cross your heart,
Swear to the gods
I watch you every day.
I stand at the window,
Watch you talk
Your body language says one thing
Your lips, your lips speak the truth.
No matter how many times you say it,
Declare it, proclaim it.
When we meet your lips smile and quiver.
You lick them in anticipation,
The lips lightly touch your cheeks,
And yours reciprocate.
Suddenly, you can’t stop talking,
Your hands are twitching.
When you leave they turn down,
Into a frown,
Your moods kick in,
You start to stare into the horizon.
You play with your phone
Check it every two seconds.
Why baby?
When did things change?
When did you start you fall out of me?
When did you start to drift away?
I learnt to read the minute you started to lie.

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection

Thursday, August 25, 2011


I have this person
He has a soul, a heart and beautiful smile.
I love him with all my heart
I wouldn’t think of being with another
Secretly, I call him my soul mate.
He has the ability to make me cry, laugh and blush all at a go.
My heart skips a beat when I hear his voice
My body longs to lie next to him
I long to watch him make sweet love to me
Lick me in all the appropriate places
Kiss me softly and tenderly
Hold me in his big, muscled powerful arms
He is my king, my love, and my life.
I write this with tears in my eyes
I love this man so much
I would almost die for him
What I long for is to carry his seed
And be the person through whom the continuity of his name flourishes and grows.
What separates is not the sea
Neither is it air but tracks and tracks of land
He lives where there are no trees
Just tracks of land as far as the eye can see
The place is so hot
You could fry an egg on his forehead head.
I wouldn’t look at another man
I am satisfied and happy with the man I love.

On the other hand
I know a man
Not big and strong but has the mind of a fox
He is smart, diligent and cunning
He waits in the shadows
Tells me sweet nothings
Tries to woo me
He goes straight to the point
Confesses he is interest
When I refuse
He tries a different tactic
And I still refuse
Now, he is sweet, funny and all that
Doesn’t flash his money like before
Asks for coffee dates, lunch dates
Sometimes calls in the late evening
Just to find out how I am
Asks about what matters in my life
He says he can offer me the world
If I just give in and do his bidding
I recognize this character
This thing that tries to tempt me
God forbid I give in.

When you choose a certain path in life
Decide to stay true
Temptation tends to come your way
Sometimes you are not aware
Other times it is there for what it is
I am who I am
I stand for what I want
And what I value most
I am not ready to give up a lifetime
Just for a night of pleasure.

©cizoe, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection


I feel strange
I feel like my body is not my own
Like each and every part of my body
Is being pulled from different angles
I t is like my spirit has left me
And there is a demon inside me
Right now
I want to scream at the top of my lungs
When I try
No sound comes out
It feels like someone has passed judgment on me
Telling me how to live
Making me do what they want
It is pretty confusing
Sometimes annoying
Gravity keeps pulling me down
Life has a smoke screen
My relationship is not for me to command
My life is going in the opposite direction
My head is pounding
I can feel each and every pain
Like needles been stuck through me
My heart is numb
I can’t feel a thing
I have no emotion
No strength to carry on
I am a fighter
I love a challenge
But this time
I do not have any fight left in me.
Every other time I have to feel
Like I am drowning in defeat
Nobody understands
Nobody cares to understand
Nobody wants to understand
What would you do?

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection

Saturday, August 20, 2011


I have been patiently waiting for the DJ play my favorite song
I walk to the dance floor
I start to dance
Move my body to the beat
Sway to the electricity in the music
The song and I become one
It is almost like
No it is like
Like we are making love
We consummate at the height
Get to the climax
Over and over it goes on
Every part of my body screams
Every fiber in my being is screaming
Louder and louder it gets
The animal in me escapes
When I look in the mirror
I see a different person
I push to the limit
Squeeze every ounce
Till the very last drop
Up and Down
Side to side
Shake every muscle
My body is hot
Like I have a fever
Like a drug
I want
I need
I have to get…

© thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection

Monday, August 15, 2011


There are certain things I am immune to
One, is your sorry ass
Two, I can’t stand your sorry sight
Three, sometimes I want to hit you.
It has been long since I felt
Nothing towards another
There is something about loud mouths
There is more than meets the eye
Well that is my opinion
Buy hey,
Don’t mess with me
You don’t scare me
My anger has turned to pity
You may think you are everything
In my world you are nothing but a nuisance.

©thelma migue, 2010

From, the cizoepoetry collection

Friday, July 29, 2011


Is it me or am I loosing touch?
Is it us or are we growing apart?
Sometimes I wonder if I am to blame
I don’t get excited anymore
There is no one else.
This feels robotic
Everything is a routine
Is it the distance
Maybe, I don’t know
I think not.
I long to be held through the night
I long to hear those sweet nothings
I long to see your smile
I long to hear your voice
I don’t like the distance
I don’t have much of a choice
I have to be brave and be strong
Tick tock goes the time
Maybe I am just irritated
With the latest calls
Why now?
I have put all the blocks but still
Maybe I need to take a break
Rejuvenate and rekindle that spark
The one that makes my heart jump
This I promise not to break
I have come a long way
To start giving up now
At this point is when I need and miss your common sense.

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection

Thursday, July 21, 2011


Today, I got home tired and exhausted. The lack of sleep and doing the graveyard shift had got the better for me. I was got the usual warm welcome hug from my daughter and a kiss on the cheek. As I was getting down to making breakfast for the two of us, I had to take a break and cough. I have this horrible cough that has refused to go. After taking medication and finishing my dosage, it still remains. It is the after effect of the horrific flu. Well anyway, she comes to me and asks “Mummy, is that you coughing?”
“Yes.” I answer
“You still have your cough?” she asks
“Yes, I still do.” I reply
She shakes her head and gives me that pity full look. I can tell she is in deep thought and after sometime, she turns and looks at me in the eyes. Here, I am thinking oh dear she is either going to say something smart or rebuke me. She has a certain look when she is very serious.
“Mummy, do you know that my cough has gone. Do you want to know why? I will tell you why?” she continues
“You see my cough went because I said and declared in Jesus name that it should go. Now, you see it has gone. I am not coughing anymore. I want you to repeat after me: I declare that my cough is gone, in the name of Jesus.” She continued

I repeated what she said word for word. After that I got back to making breakfast for us. We sat down and had a conversation about what happened during the day and night. What she did, how my work was and what she was going to do during the day. Later, I went to get some sleep, by this time I was so exhausted. She hung around my room till I blacked out.

I did not think about our conversation till later today. Thinking about it, I haven’t coughed since that time in the morning. That girl has so much faith, the undying faith of a four year old girl. I wish most of us adults had faith like the children have. The world would be a better place and the devil would be far from us. I admire her faith in God and Jesus. I must say, I have her grandmother to thank for schooling her in Christianity and taking her through her daily prayers.

What would I do without that little soldier? I learnt a lot this morning, I was taught by a four year old girl.

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011


We don’t talk as much anymore
You walk into the room
Take one look at me
My blood freezes in its veins
My heart stops beating
For a minute I don’t breathe
I start to shiver
It feels like I just went to Siberia and returned
You change clothes
Change wallets
Walk out of the room
You take a side glance
No words can explain how I feel
I bow my head in shame
Like I did something wrong
You take one last look
My eyes plead and apologize
What I wouldn’t give to hear your voice
Just to hear the one line that drives me crazy
Even if we have to pick fights
At least I will hear your voice
Maybe I will hear
Maybe I will feel your love
But instead
I feel you’re the hate you feel
Did you say something?
I could have sworn you did
It was just the silence playing tricks on me.

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection

Wednesday, June 15, 2011


Watching you watch me walk away,
Tears my heart to pieces
The time that you plead
Come up with so many reasons
Excuses and look so helpless
Slices my heart to pieces
The tears run down your face
As you ask why
Why mummy why?
Please stay don’t go
I will be a good girl
Go to sleep early
Finish my dinner
Brush my teeth
And wear a sweater
I promise Mummy
Please stay Please Mummy Please…
I get down on my knees
Look you in the eye
I try to explain
The words fail to come out
Where do I start?
How do I explain to a four year old
That I have to go to work
Cause bills need to be paid
You need to be educated, clothed and save for a rainy day
Mummy has to do all this
Daddy isn’t there
I am your provider.
I look her in the eye
Wipe her tears
Take her head in my hands
Hug her, kiss her
Tell her I love her
I will be back in the morning
Make her promise she will be a good girl
I listen to her sniffles
As she tries to be a big girl
Holds her tears
As she says goodbye
I look back
She waves through the window
The look on her face is killing me
For a moment I think of turning back
Get a grip of myself and go to work.
I never tell her goodbye
Least it be my last
I always say
See you later angel
Be mummy’s big beautiful girl
Just before her bedtime
I call to kiss her goodnight
Promise I will be there when she wakes up.
Mummy loves you
One day I won’t have to go to work
But that remains just a one day…..

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

Thursday, June 9, 2011


When you speak your mind
It hurts
When you don’t
It hurts
You are torn apart
Every fiber of your being is going crazy
To the world
You look great
You laugh
You smile
Maybe crack a joke or two
Some say you look so happy
You acknowledge
If they knew
You are dying inside
You are bound
You can’t talk
Least you sound childish
It kills you
Slowly, gradually
You die a little bit each day
Until that day
You crack
Say something rush
To the one you love
You hear the frustration in their voice
It is not the first time
You have done this
They close the door
You are left alone in the cold
Shocked and ashamed
There is nothing you can do
To turn back the time
Take back that word
It was mean and nasty
Didn’t have to be said
You apologize
End up begging and look desperate.
How do I start?
To tell you where the pain is
How do I tell you?
What is hurting me
Where do I start
It will take a day maybe more
So I choose not to burden you
Call it pride
Last I want is to become a burden
And later a pain
This is not an excuse
Neither am I looking for sympathy
I am trying not to be rush.

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection

Monday, May 30, 2011

My Routine....

So…here it goes again, the alarm on my phone rings at 5:00 AM. I’ve always kept it on my right hand side of the bed, close to me so that I can have the chance of throwing it against the wall when I feel like. I still love my Samsung something (I know, tongue-twister to the Luos), I’ve never bothered with the model since I was given the phone and it’s not that high-end and “touchy-feely” as all these other new Applish and Androidish phones. But that’s besides the point…So, the phone rings at 5:00 A.M, and I decide to snooze until 5:40 A.M. The intervals are of 5 minutes. Oh the torture! Where I’m going is somewhere I really loathe and I have been loathing it for the past one year. My anticipation is therefore at zero level and I have no motivation to wake up. But hey, life goes on right? I pick my self-up and hit the showers, come back, apply deodorant and cologne, put on a fancy shirt, brush my teeth and leave the house. Why the fancy shirt? It makes me look forward to the day, I feel good when I look good and it turns the hate of where I’m going to love to other yet innocent and warm environment. It’s a routine.

I walk to the stage which is less than 200 meters from where I stay and a Matatu stops before I reach the stage. They are rather persistent. Should I walk or should I run towards it? Well, this is a rather dull day, so I decide to walk while it waits for me. It takes about 2 minutes for me to get inside the Matatu, and I find angry, irritated and annoying faces looking at me. Blame the conductor for his patience not me. Michael Jackson’s ABC is playing and I’m thinking wrong day for the song. There’s so much energy in it and me being an artist, I feel the mood of the song and I smile while looking outside the window. A baby being carried by the mother sees me and she smiles back thinking I was smiling at her. Not a bad day after all. I get to the city center, get another Matatu and head out to the place that I’ve been in for the last three years and if I’m to break it down the place where I spend three hundred days a year toiling, and planting a seed with the hopes that it will grow. Only to a certain level has it grown and I’m not satisfied with it, it explains the resentment. I get to the second Matatu and the fare is 30 shillings. When the Matatu is full, the fare changes (mysteriously) to 40 shillings, and annoyed commuters alight from the van before it moves and I’m left alone in it. Its just 10 shillings difference, I tell myself. I’m in no rush, although I’m already late. I wait for people who are willing to be conned 10 shillings just as I am, to get in the Matatu. I reach my destination 30 minutes later because of traffic. I head out to the office and sign in, one hour late. My boss looks at me and I say a casual “hi” to him as I smile. He nods his head in disagreement. Still with the smile, I head out to my work station and wait for another eight hours of mental torture. Tomorrow the same cycle repeats itself, and if it’s a good day, I might just decide to throw the phone against the wall this time.

Written by Eyan.

Sunday, May 22, 2011


Walk beside me
In my darkest hour
Stand beside me
Through all my pain
Celebrate with me in my gain
Nothing more can I ask
All I want is your time
All I need is your heart
Nothing more I ask
Promise me
Through good and bad
For better for worse
You will keep my secrets
I will keep yours
Swear to me
Pledge to me
Your heart will be mine
As mine will be yours
We seal this oath
With our blood

©thelma migue, 2011

A cizoepoetry collection.

Saturday, May 14, 2011


Do you feel me?
Like I feel you
Do you love me?
Like I love you
Do you think about me?
Like I think about you
Sometimes I wonder why
You did what you did
Then again I seem to understand.
Funny right
You see I loved you
I cared about you
I would have died for you
Later I realized
I was obsessed
Looking for someone or something
To hold on to and make me
Forget the past
Many days and nights
I cried my self to sleep
Switched of the radio
Listened to my heart bleed
Most times I cursed you
Cursed the day I started talking to you
Met you and fell head over heals
I almost ruined my life
Living within your shadow
My anger has turned to pity
My love has become respect
I can talk to you without feeling that lump in my throat
I can think about you without tears clouding my eyes
I made a promise
I will not make the same mistake again
I will not cling to a man
To forget the pain in my past

My present
Taught me that
He loved me
When I thought hated him
He cared about me
When I couldn’t care less
He was there for me
Every step of the way
Sometimes I think he is an angel in disguise
Sometimes I wonder why he stayed around
I wasn’t pleasant
Trust me
I would have runway from myself
For staying by me
I am thankful
For trusting me
I have no words
For loving me
I will always love him
For the rest of my life

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection

Thursday, May 5, 2011


It takes time
To be who you are
Get to where you are going
You start with baby steps
Then bigger steps
Patience is what matters
Sometimes or most times
It is not your enemies that get you down
It is the ones you love the most
Who try to discourage, torment and break your spirit
When your enemies come at you
You are ready to fight
Be steadfast, get over and defeat them
But, when it is the people you love
The wound is so deep
Deeper than a knife
It tears at your heart
The pain is in your eyes
Your soul cries out for divine help
It takes a lot of inner power to overcome this
It takes a long time to heal
The wounds are the battle scars
They are a constant reminder
Of the betrayal and pain.
To overcome this is like climbing a mountain
With hidden terraces and cervices
Traps and predators
If only they understood
If only they were patient
If only they cared enough
To hold your hand
Hold your head
Whisper positive and encouragement
Maybe then
They would be standing with you at the end of the race.
It takes years to build a man
Irony is
It takes a minute to break him.

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection.

Friday, April 29, 2011


It would be lovely
To feel you next to me
Sneak up on you
Wrap my hands around your waist
Caress your six pac
Kiss your tender lips
Hear you mourn with pleasure
Pull me back
As I try to pull away
Hold me in your arms
My ear against your chest
Listening to your heart beat
With every beat
And every rhythm
It says I love you
Every touch
Says I want you
Every word you speak
Means I need you.
Listening you your voice
The undercurrent of longing
Pulls at my heart
Makes the distance shorter
Every night I go to bed
I imagine your arms around me
Holding me tight
Knowing that is the only way
I can make it through the night.

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection

Thursday, March 24, 2011


I keep praying you will leave me alone,
It started as an innocent conversation,
A coffee date
Dinner in a fancy restaurant
Later in the week
A drink at the bar
And later coffee in the apartment
I didn’t want the kiss
The caress on the thigh
I always said I had a boyfriend
You didn’t listen
You kept pushing the boundaries
I wasn’t strong enough to keep you away
You thought my no was a yes
I must confess
In the beginning I loved the attention
I had a daily battle with the angels and demons
I knew better
Now I freeze when you call
I am scared to open my e-mail account
Least I find your hate mail
I want out
I am walking out
Just like I got knocked in

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection

Wednesday, March 16, 2011


Tired of being her
Tired of walking in her shadow
Tired of being put on hold
Seeing me at his convenience
After a hard days work
Getting ready to unwind
Soaked in the bubble bath
Soft music playing in the background
Sipping on a glass of wine
I close my eyes
Loose myself in the dreams
The door bell rings
I slowly get myself out of the bath
Water dripping on the floor
Put on my bathrobe
Tie the sash
Put on my bedroom slippers
The door bell rings again
This time with lots of impatience
I open the door
There he stands
Holding a bottle of wine in one hand
A bouquet of red roses in the other hand
A wicked smile on his face
Oh baby no!
Not this time
I am tired
I want out
I start to close the door
He puts his foot in the door
Closes it behind him
Places the wine on the side table
Grabs my hand
Pulls me close
Wraps his arms around my waist
Looks me in the eyes
Kisses me
I start to struggle
Loose my resolve
Finally give in
Wrap my hands around his neck
Maybe next time I will have the strength,
Maybe next time

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011


Take my heart
Rip it apart
In it’s place
Replace it with a tin heart
I don’t want to feel
The pain that I feel
The emotions I feel
When I think of you
Tears come to my eyes
When I think of you
My smile turns to a frown
Thinking of the distance that separates us
I wake up in the night
Thinking of you
Stretch my hand across the bed
I feel the cold
That reminds me of the emptiness
It has reached a point
A day can’t go by without hearing your voice
This feels like a year
I have to face the harsh reality
That you are not near
If I had one wish
I would ask you to take my heart
When you leave
And return it when you return.

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection

Saturday, March 12, 2011



She talks with confidence and thinks before she talks.
She jumps not into conclusions and every word she utters is respectful.
Her lips are never twisted in anger or hate.
Her words come from her heart and soul.
She keeps quiet when she has to and talks to be relevant not to be heard.
Do you know her? Do you see her?


Her love is boundless and she hates no one nor their opinions.
She confuses everyone because they don’t know whether to call it love or kindness.
It’s not being helpful nor being friendly.
It’s plain old pretty love, radiating from inside her soul.
You can see it in her smile; you can see it in her eyes.
You can sense it from her back. You know when she turns, you will feel her.
Do you know her? Do you see her?


When she prays, you can feel the specifics in her prayers.
She is a very prayerful woman, but rarely prays for herself.
She seldom forgets her tribulations while she selflessly fights for fellow man in her prayers. She is a true prayer warrior.
She has a relationship with her God, and that’s keep her in spirit.
Uninfluenced by the church or community, just a purposely God loving woman.
She does good, for her church and is respected across the isles.
Do you know her? Do you see her?


She still opens the door in the morning with no grudges.
And she wakes up hopeful for another day of hard work and blessings.
Irrespective whether the husband came home late or touch a meal not.
She will still cook and place the food, day after day, year after year.
She still won’t show the abuse nor the lines from a slap done on her.
She is just hopeful, as a mother, as a wife, that things will be fine.
Do you know her? Do you see her?


She is well educated, vast knowledge in books and worlds ways.
But she never brags nor feels important despite of all.
She knows a great mind is a blessing and not a weapon for those less in the know.
She shares her wisdom to sundry and all, irrespective of class or status.
She is a teacher and teaches not for remuneration but for love of community.
She is the embodiment of knowledge without the shows.
Do you know her? Do you see her?


Is single and happy.
She doesn’t carry her status on her sleeve nor wear it as a scarf.
She is neither bitchy nor angry. She knows her situation is nothing to hate about.
She whines about men not. She understands that her prayers will be answered.
And know a husband will not come by judgments born out of anger.
She is happy for all her blessings and doesn’t allow the psyche of the society into her soul.
Do you know her? Do you see her?


She works from dawn to dusk.
Selling buns and vegetables along the highway.
You can see her brow with drops of sweat and dust gathering as the day goes.
She uses her lesso to tie the coins and wipe her temples.
Her greatest assets are her customers who drop coins on her oily hands.
You would never know her anguish, by her hearty laughter and sincere smiles.
In the hot sun her smile radiates across the highway.
What you will never know is that her husband brags about kids he never provides for.
Deep down she wishes he wasn’t a husband, but she endures for the children.
Do you know her? Do you see her?


She dashes across the street to her corner office she wishes could change.
She has a three year old child just dropped at the church school.
The little girl keeps asking where Daddy is every so often.
She dreads the question because she feels guilty and tired.
She is exhausted with all the judgments and words that hurt her.
And friends who think she is silly and relatives who are even harsher.
What she won’t tell the baby girl is that daddy is the man who runs that uptown company.
And daddy left some money for her abortion and that was the last conversation.
Do you know her? Do you see her?


She is old and frail.
Done by years of plain hard work and perseverance.
Her legs aches and her back pains everyday.
She has memories of a husband who died early in diseases they could not treat.
She had children of her own who didn’t deserve to die young.
Her own sons who got lost in drinking dens and daughters who rung themselves to the ground by men with promises of money for plain old sex life.
Now she has grandchildren who call her mummy and she begs someday to put food on the table.

Do you know her? Do you see her?

(Inspired by Grandma-Elizabeth Nyokabi, Rita Schulz, Flora-Ritas' Grandma, Lucy my sister and all the women I know, you are all phenomenal)

© john-Kiarie 2011 · English (KE)

Friday, March 4, 2011


Faced with temptation
The body is yearning but
Your heart is not.
That is where I was
It has been years
Since I saw him
It has been years
Since a man touched me.
I would die for that caress
That hand caressing my thighs
The lips kissing my lips
While the other hand
Fondles my breasts
Light kisses,
Yearning kisses,
Demanding kisses
Developing and speaking a language of their own
The short breathes,
Followed by deep mourns and groans
The rustle of clothes
The naked bodies
Bound together by passion and sweat
The screams and mourns
Kind of animal but full of sexual desire
The sweet smell of love making
Cuddling and light caressing
And later falling asleep in each others arms

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

One Year......Sacrifice.....

One year of love and sacrifice,
one season of smiles and scents,
color and texture,
sometimes rough sometimes soft,
sweetest is that we are through,
...our first kiss still remains true,
passionate and full of hue,
relished by so many in view,
you and i we rule,
forever in gratitude to Him,
for our wine grows sweeter,
day by day,
time ebbing away ever so effortlessly.
Your truly,

Written by Kandie Chetalam

Saturday, February 5, 2011


Every time I hear this
It brings tears to my eyes
It feels like you are right here with me
The distance is becomes bearable
The ache in my heart
As I long for your touch
I imagine watching you as you do your thing
Work around the court
Intimidate your opponents
You dunk and I shout
There goes my baby
I blow a kiss, you wink and we both giggle.
There goes my baby
I love everything you do.
Thinking about you sends shivers down my spine
My heart jumps when the phone rings
Hearing your voice chases all my blues away
Your voice soothes my troubles
Words are not enough to explain how I feel.

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection.

Saturday, January 29, 2011


I love you daddy,
I love you too munchkin,
On your way home please buy for me a chocolate,
Sure sweetie.
The phone rings sema buda.
Lets meet at the pub in town
I don’t think I can, I have to get home. I promised my gal.
Aiiiii wewe just one drink. When was the last time we caughtup and reminisced the good times ehh?
Okay, sawa. Let’s meet in a hour.
He rushes out of the office and heads straight for the pub.
One, two, three he has lost count.
He checks his pocket,
Unlocks the car,
Puts the key into the ignition and
Heads straight for home
His vision is blurry,
Foot on the gas pedel,
Music blaring
He hits 100 km/hr as he rushes home.
The impact brings him to his senses,
He sobers up,
There is blood all around,
He can’t feel his legs,
The light is too bright,
He tries to sit up,
A hand gently holds him down,
He turns stares at the paramedic.
He pulls the paramedic closer
Reaches into his pocket
Removes the bar of chocolate and whispers
Give this to my daughter.
He sighs and lays down his head.
The paramedics begins to shout
His heat beat is fading
As they rush him to the operating room.

©thelma migue 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection.