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

SWEAR

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

LOST AND FOUND

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
Now,
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
Kisses….

©thelma migue, 2011

From the cizoepoetry collection

Thursday, May 5, 2011

TURMOIL

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.