Monday, May 15, 2017


I’ve been here before…
A place called happy.
Where walls are painted in colorful emotions and the roof is made of sturdy hope.

Haven’t I been here before?
These paths seem so familiar but the crossroads leave me confused
Because this place, though brand new, has a certain knowingness.

Wait…I may have been here before,
But THIS is nothing like what I thought I had.
I once had a place called happy
 but now YOU, you are my happy.

Friday, January 27, 2017

Matters of the Heart

She sat motionless in the bus as the conductor's voice drowned her barely audible sobs.
She paid no attention to the annoying creaking sound of the seats as she stared into space with one thought her mind.

He was gone.

She couldn't believe he was gone for a whole year and she didn't
get to say goodbye.
She didn't get to hug him fiercely  one last time till he returns.
She didn't get to say how he makes her feel, gosh! her heart leaps when she's with him despite how infuriating he can be.

He was gone.

Their last conversation had been nothing but sour.
They were supposed to spend some time together and she had plans to show him exactly how he makes her feel.
But then he never showed up.
For three days, she waited for an explanation but was answered with deafening silence.
Not a word from him. No call, no message.

Now he is gone.

Her last words to him were laced with anger and disappointment.
He had listened but never replied. She didn't expect him to,  although she hoped he would
She also didn't know he would be gone soon.

Tonight, her pillow will be drenched in tears as she nurses her broken heart.
It appears she fell in love and had her heart broken but didn't know through it all.

She always thought she'd know when she falls in love..

Monday, November 14, 2016

My Familiar Stranger

There was something strikingly familiar about him.

The first time he approached me, he told me he wanted my heart,
and all he wanted in return was for his to be mine.
He wooed me with sugar-coated words,
courted me with his hearty laughter.

His laughter was deep and sonorous,
just like that of my father.

I fell hard, I fell fast.
We exchanged vows, made solemn promises before God and family.
"To have and to hold through life's ups and downs,
for better, worse and the worst,I will honour and love you as my wife.
Forever and a thousand years."

This was his vow to me.

But he lied.
He didn't want my heart, he wanted my sanity.
He didn't want a wife, he wanted a slave.
His sonorous laughter suddenly became sinister and his sugar-coated words became gunshots aimed to break my spirit.
He taunted me, mocked and threatened me.

He reminded me of my father.

I watched myself slowly become the woman my mother once was.
The woman she wrestled and finally killed after she left my father.
The institution I had thought was marriage, had become a prison cell guarded by fear.
My husband wanted to be god in a world where I was to be slave.

And then it struck me...

There was something strikingly familiar about him.
I should have recognised him from the moment he said hello.
He wasn't just a familiar stranger, he was my familiar stranger.
He was my father. I fell in love with my father...

Wednesday, March 16, 2016

Your Eyes

Your eyes...
They tell me stories about you.
Your passions and desires,
Your dreams and aspirations,
Your fears and inhibitions, 
Your vices and hobbies,
It's all there...written boldly in your eyes.

It's the way they light up when you see me and dim when I have to be away.
It's how they well up in tears when you are upset and sparkle like stars when you are excited.
It's the way they silently whisper sweet words like " You are my everything" and more.
So the next time you ask me what I love about you,
Believe me when I say...your eyes.

Monday, November 23, 2015

For Paris

It was a serene atmosphere
Laughter, romance and love in the air
Soft music filled the background
Sweet melody, melodic symphony was the sound

Then suddenly... BANG!  BANG!! BANG!!!
The room was raided by a terrorist gang
Fear became the music, death became the sound
Shots were fired, lovers and friends falling to the ground
Human bombs began to detonate
smiling at the heavens like it was their fate

126 people badly injured...most were found dead
In one night, Paris became a city to be feared
For the lives lost and families hurt because of that day
We can do nothing but bow our heads and pray...


Monday, October 12, 2015

Dear Steve

Dear Steve,

I write you this letter not in disdain
but with a heart flooded with unmitigated pain
With love I cuddled you fiercely when you were born
I had tarried for years and finally, God gave me a son
I was no longer ridiculed by society, I was no longer mocked
For though my daughters were pretty, your unexpected birth had left them shocked.
I watched you grow to be a young, dashing, charming  teenager
and yes, I recall those times you jokingly called me a nagger

Of course, I had to nag you to be all you could be,
Don't you know you are the best thing that ever happened to me?
Not only are you the spitting image of your father
You are kind, loving, generous like your dear mother
I remember your high school days in King's College, Victoria Island
and how your dad and I beamed with joy when you told us you had joined the band
You were my boy, my son, my obi ! But today...the case is sadly the reverse
As you leave me scorned with this news so perverse

How is it possible you feel such unholy desire for a man?
Why have you suddenly decided to distort God's original plan?
How can you tell me I gave birth to you this way?
What did I ever do to make you go astray?
My questions will forever remain unending
and the pain worsens each passing day as you plan your wedding
Oh Steve! please... there has to be another way
As I have refused to accept that my only son is gay

Thursday, October 8, 2015

The Rope

He sat and stared at the rope for days
It stared back at him, with a sly grin and a mocking gaze
He knew his thoughts were wrong
He thought he was really strong
But he felt his life had no iota of hope
So he decided to sell it to the rope