IMG-20150321-WA0001I want to paint you, i want to paint you on the wall where we first kissed, i want to paint you where everyone will see you, i want to paint your memory in my heart and on the streets, i want the earth to know that you were loved, you are loved and you matter, i want to paint my love for you in blue, red and orange but most of all i want to paint you in the colour of love

In that moment i wanted to love,

I fathomed love in all it’s portions and concoctions,

All it’s shortcomings and forth comings,

But most of all in its memories.

I wanted to love with my clandestine thoughts and hidden giggles,

I wanted to love with my heart,

I needed to love from within and without.

Across the oceans and the narrow seas,

I wanted to dance love to salsa beats and clamber to a little tango,

I needed to paint love all over the streets of Nairobi better than Picasso and Michelangelo,

I wanted to  sleep, eat and drink love.

It was essential that i do

I need a doctor.

I can not see but i can feel and hear from a distance. The voices are frantic and in derailling despair. I need a doctor. My heart is almost coming to a halt. I see her. I feel her. She is looking at me with sheer ridicule. Ashamed that i am her owner, maybe, i think. I have crushed her, blinded her and broken her limb for limb. She is on the verge of death and i have done nothing but push her towards it. She will soon be going into a limbo if i do nothing about it. My heart is about to die on me. I really need a doctor for her. As if instinctively, i see her fall to the ground. Her eyes are in so much pain. Pain that could make you plead guilty for a murder you did not even witness. Pain that is far beyond anything i have ever felt. She is begging me to help her with those eyes. She is waiting for me to metamorph into her doctor. I need a doctor for my heart. Suddenly and very effortlessly she starts to fibrillate. I need a doctor, NOW. She is going into cardiac arrest. Soon, we will be out of air. Soon my brain will shut down. I look around but i don’t see a doctor. I look for my phone to call “911” but that too is missing. I really need a doctor. My heart clasps my hand tightly. “We may not make it May, ” she whispers in a half choked tone. Tears spring into my eyes and i can’t help it. This is the worst feeling i am yet to ever feel. Despair. The cold touch of death slowly creeping through your veins. Trust me, you know death when you see it. You know it has come for you when it taps your back and calls out your name sure of the spelling to the last letter. In school they never taught me this language that i currently need to speak life using. I need a doctor. I can feel her beat starting to ebb away. I am awash with emotions.I want to cry yet be brave for her. I want to tell her that i am sorry for not being there for her yet again i know she will tell me that i am there now in this moment. I don’t want to hear that. If she is gone, i am gone. That is just how it works. So i tell her to be still. I lie to her that everything is going to be fine. I hold her close and become one with the dying rythm of her glorious beats. I can’t ask myself how we got to this point of a bloody beatless heart. I know. So i whisper that i am sorry. I swear if she holds it together for me just one more time that i am going to be a good heart keeper. I promise to love her. I promise her patience, kindness, faithfullness and truth. Heck, i promise her the world. As i say this words to her, her eyes close. She places her head on my bossom. I know it’s goodbye. I needed a doctor yesterday, I need a handkerchief and some tissue now. I need roses and a great eulogy for the greatest heart i have ever met. I feel her warmth start to leave her body. I see her rythmic heaving start to cease. It is like i have been cut in two. Two great halves. I hold her closer and tighter. I have heard of babies who are born from still births yet wake up on being held close by their parents. I will wake her up. One minute, nothing happens. Two minutes, nothing. Five minutes, no sign of life. I weep. I weep for my heart. I weep for the murder of my heart by myself. I will never be the same again. I Bathe her lovely face with my tears. I know what she would have said at the sight of my tears. She would have told me to cry, cry till it stopped hurting. But this time it is different. This time i am sure it will not stop hurting. So i weep as hard as i can. As if the heavens hear my unsung prayer, i feel a faint heartbeat in her wrist which i have been tightly holding. If life is teasing me, i am not amused. I bring her hand next to my ear and listen. I know that it’s not supposed to be done that way but i want to hear a beat. Nothing. So i patiently place my fingers on her wrist. Never have i been this hopefull in my life. There is a beat. I know what i need. I need a defibrillator. I need electricity. I need to restart this heart of mine. I do not need a doctor. I am going to be my own doctor. As if answering to my call, i feel a tug run through my body. I do not question what that is. I know what that is, rather who it is.That is my heart, she works at the emergency room. She is electrocuting me at that very moment. She needs me to wake up and take charge of my life. I could never be more gratefull for life than at this very moment.

Gambler’s Luck

She is dressed in a bewitching long black silk dress decorated with sequins lightly. If you walked into the room uninformed of her presence you would not see anything else in the room save for her. Her beauty precedes her character yet her character is something else. She is silent and talks only with her eyes. From this side of the table, you can see her curvy body trying to spring free from the dress. She is quite the sight.Her name is Life. Across the table is Joe; tall dark and handsome you could say. He has been spell bound by her beauty in what would seem to an outsider as forever timeline. His mind has been racing the whole night. This card game has turned out a whole compass point away from the direction he intended it to go. He is gambling with her. They call her “Thee gambling prodigy,” in these parts of the town. She is famous for her skills in the game of cards. Interestingly, no one seems to praise her for the exquisite sight she is. She knows her game plan all too well. For those who are asking, her money is where her mouth is. She never gives her opinion during her games. That would be cheating,wouldn’t it ? She has now taken a perched stature waiting for Joe to take bait. Joe is not a maestro but he is good. Really good. He decides to hold back the call on his cards and picks another set. He wonders why he even thought gambling with Lady Life would be a good idea. He knows he could loose everything within the fraction of a second and yet he could also beat the maestro of the game. “King of gamblers has quite the ring to it,” he is thinking silently. Winning the game could change a lot of things and yet losing also means something more important. How painful could losing to such an exotic beauty really be? It wouldn’t even hurt. His inner charmer is taunting with him. His decision to play this game means the world to him. However, it also means fighting to the last dime as it stands as of now. He is gambling for his Darling Divergence. He wants to get married to her. He loves her ways. He adores how she makes him different from other people. He loves how she tickles him with life giving inspiration each time she tells him how he is different. He can not let her down. Besides, she is pregnant with his child. That alone could make him do anything for her. How can one not see wonder when the woman they want to marry calls herself such a name, ” Divergent, different from all yet indifferent from none”. How would he be able to tell his children and grandchildren that he refused to face a woman? Was he not supposed to be his own man? Taking one last look at his cards he decides it is now or never. He calls it. Maybe, just maybe gambler’s luck is on his side today.

The convinience ball

Shes pouched up on her gigantic bed too horrified to walk to the bathroom. “Funny how beds feel so big in these circumstances,” she is saying to herself. They are late again. The damned blood spots are late again. She knows she looked at the calender well but revisits it all the same. They are two days late. Two days is good, right?How some women go for a whole two months without knowing Mr Red pants did not show is still a miracle to her. She is thinking about calling her doctor friend to ask him what her chances are. She stops mid way. He is going to scold her for being careless for the umpteenth time. But she wasn’t careless, she knew her safe dates and she counted carefully. She is telling herself she has been on this road one too many times. Gambling with dear life is never a great experience. Who forced her to grow up too soon?? Wasn’t it her? Her own stupid self who put this burden of thoughts on her shoulder. She never wanted to be thinking about babies in this particular moment yet she has to. She has to think it through because she knows all too well that people are defined by their choices and what she did was a choice. She also doesn’t believe in mistakes. So this was not a mistake. Shes been in bed for two hours now, too afraid to get the pregnancy test done. The lady at the chemist explained how to use it proficiently though the lurking horror of it being positive seems to have made her forget everything with regards to the test. An abortion is not an option for her. She has seen how that destroys lives and makes people easily broken. Her friend Mina has has had two abortions so far. She is know an emotional wreck to anything that points in the direction of children. Mina is constantly pained by the fact that she will never have a first born or a second born. Mina says the two times were mistakes but they both know she was just being selfish when she made that choice. She just thought of what the society would think of her never of what they’d think of her baby. She was so worried about her education that she forgot about her babies life. The unborn baby did matter. So abortion for Kate is not a choice. She is too fragile to be constantly weighed down by guilt. That however is not her biggest worry. Her worst fear is the father’s acceptance. Will he accept this child? Will he love her and the child the same way he does? She wants her child to have a loving father always there for them. She needs her child to be with it’s father. She needs a family for her child. Kate has been brought up in a broken home where the parents were constantly fighting over custody yet none of them was a good parent. She does not want or need that for her child. Kate also knows her worst mistake would be settling down just because she is pregnant for him. She can never have that. She has seen people end up fighting and unhappy for their forever timeline just because they settled for convenience. She can not afford that. It’s not expensive but rather too costly for her and her baby. She needs to get married for love and never for convenience. Her child needs to feel that it is not the ” mistake” that brought its parents together. Pulling herself together she walks to the bathroom. She needs to get this over and done with. To her surprise, the stains are there. Shes never happy about this time of the month but this time round she is.

The convinience ball

Shes pouched up on her gigantic bed too horrified to walk to the bathroom. “Funny how beds feel so big in these circumstances,” she is saying to herself. They are late again. The damned blood spots are late again. She knows she looked at the calender well but revists it all the same. They are two days late. Two days is good, right?How some women go for a whole two months without knowing Mr Red pants did not show is still a miracle to her. She is thinking about calling her doctor friend to ask him what her chances are. She stops mid way. He is going to scold her for being careless for the umteenth time. But she wasnt careless, she knew her safe dates and she counted carefully. She is telling herself she has been on this road one too many times. Gambling with dear life is never a great experience. Who forced her to grow up too soon?? Wasn’t it her? Her own stupid self who put this burden of thoughts on her shoulder. She never wanted to be thinking about babies in this particular moment yet she has to. She has to think it through because she knows all too well that people are defined by their choices and what she did was a choice. She also doesn’t believe in mistakes. So this was not a mistake. Shes been in bed for two hours now, too afraid to get the pregnancy test done. The lady at the chemist explained how to use it proficiently though the lurking horror of it being positive seems to have made her forget everythng with regards to the test. An abortion is not an option for her. She has seen how that destroys lives and makes people easily broken. Her friend Mina has has had two abortions so far. She is know an emotional wreck to anything that points in the direction of children. Mina is constantly pained by the fact that she will never have a first born or a second born. Mina says the two times were mistakes but they both know she was just being selfish when she made that choice. She just thought of what the society would think of her never of what they’d think of her baby. She was so worried about her education that she forgot about her babie’s life. The unborn baby did matter. So abortion for Kate is not a choice. She is too fragile to be constatly weighed down by guilt. That however is not her biggest worry. Her worst fear is the father’s acceptance. Will he accept this child? Will he love her and the child the same way he does? She wants her child to have a loving father always there for them. She needs her child to be with it’s father. She needs a family for her child. Kate has been brought up in a broken home where the parents were constantly fighting over custody yet none of them was a good parent. She does not want or need that for her child. Kate also knows her worst mistake would be settling down just because she is pregnant for him. She can never have that. She has seen people end up fighting and unhappy for their forever timeline just beacause they settled for convinience. She can not afford that. It’s not expensive but rather too costly for her and her baby. She needs to get married for love and never for convinience. Her child needs to feel that it is not the ” mistake” that brought its parents together. Pulling herself together she walks to the bathroom. She needs to get this over and done with. To her surprise, the stains are there. Shes never happy about this time of the month but this time round she is.

DREAMS

I am starting to dream again, beautiful dreams filled with hope and desire. Desire to fly and mingle with the birds. It is rough on the edges and a little bit sketchy, but it feels wonderful. My mind is opening up to the idea of more than life has offered, more dreams in vigor and reaching for the galaxies. I mostly dream about art, hazy wonderful art. Art that is as inspiring as the milky way up above. Art that is as breathe taking as watching a babies first step. Art that is as magical as water splashing on your visage from the Zambezi falls… as i get back to the dreaming, i also get back to drawing. Hazy beautiful sketches with each stroke telling a story of new hope and life. A story about murals, abstractness and simplicity. Stories about me, you and us.

IMAGINE

Writing has always been a love affair for me. Most times i am not faithful because i find it hard to decide on what should be put out there and what should be kept under wraps. I am not saying i am lazy… do not get me wrong… i am not lazy and even if  the odds are always in favor of  lazy people. They have a way of finding the best ways to solve problems. Actually the most intelligent ways. So today after so many months of lazing around i finally have something to put down. Actually this i wrote long ago back when pen and paper was my bread and butter. Here it goes,

Imagine peace, the warmth of the soft dying embers of the sun caressing your skin with such gentleness that a lovers palm felt too rough,

Imagine love, that only death could do you part… am just saying, that’s some really good staff,

Imagine hope,  a dying tree would suddenly start growing all over again…at-least that’s true in Kung Fu Panda,

Imagine faith, a five year old can bow and pray for his drunkard papa to stop making mama cry,

Imagine charity, that starving he may be but he still has to share his only meal of the day with his dog,

Imagine kindness, simply because your white and am black whats yours is still mine…we are one,

Imagine courage, that a nine year old would single handedly raise the next big thing all alone,

Imagine cowardice, that a man would deny his own flesh and blood simply because for him its a game,

Imagine humility, that the master could wash the servants feet,

Imagine hypocrisy, her mother told her to have an abortion yet she had her at the same age,

Imagine inhumanity, the doctor just had to rape her  before her abortion,

Imagine boldness, she(he) knows she is ENERGY..

She cannot be destroyed, cannot be changed, cannot be made… like her maker SHE IS WHO SHE IS.

HER

Tears make her feel weak…

Happiness she believes is for the happy…

Anger she knows nothing of it… desire, well… she doesnt fathom the meaning of the word…

Beauty is her second name trust me she’d make Cleopatra look like a fake…

At heart she’s an angel only u’d never believe it at first…

On the outside from her icy eyes she looks like a demon of sorts…

Sadness is a cost she can’t incur everyone knows “pauper” is her middle name…

She wonders how in weakness we are strong???? How we should fight to our last breathe… wouldn’t we be dead by the end of it all????

How is it when you feel like giving up that’s when you shouldnt…???

shes indiffrent to all and yet diffrent from non… besides, she is human after all…

Her ambience is “being” and she confidently lives up to its meaning

Being alive… alone or not… rich or poor her ambience still remains

She’s never mellow or blue…

That’s for children she’d tell you with no emotion on her face

But strength is her third name… shes one with it and its one with her…

They’ve been husband and wife since her memory can date

It’s not the “strength of a woman type”… that she’d go defending trees righs to stay alive by stripping her clothes… trust me, she would not do that

Its her stregnth … her will to persist and live on… her strength is her partner in crime

She has no morals but instead parades her virtues all over town

That what society thinks of her shall never be greater than what she knows is rigt and wrong

She would not exchange her peace for any comfort … peace lets you sleep at night… comfort is a luxury… whats a comfortable water bed if you can’t find any sleep while laying in it?????

She knows that history has a way of repeating itself … everything is all the same as yester only diffrence is the date on the calender

Her heart is warm as mothers milk yet seems as cold as ice

She doesnt smile unless she has to… doesn’t laugh unless its funny and doesn’t cry at all… besides crying is a fools game … she’s no fool

She is typical to none and true only to self…

Call her a paradox and she will smile at you

“Finally u’ve got it… you will never understand me… you are not as foolish as you sought to be”

She is HER.