I looked up every few minutes, desperate to see wewe standing there once more. My moyo beat shrilly in my chest and my breath fluttered every time I thought of you, your cold hands grasping mine, the wonderful smell of your skin intoxicating me. I cursed, thinking of Amy and how she could be with Evan, could call him on the phone, hold his hand in public, and the simple problems she had with trying to tarehe a normal guy. wewe are so much beyond normal that it frustrates all my attempts to capture wewe in poetry. Surrounded kwa scraps of paper on which I've written your name over and over, filled with a need to get out, but not wanting to miss you, I pace. muziki has no delight for me without you. It all seems so banal and pointless unless you're near. Hours go kwa this way; I should be doing my homework au my chores, I should be doing something, anything else, but I find that everywhere I look, all I see is your face, gazing lovingly at me, and I melt. Eventually I have to get out of the house; I'm stifling and my parents asking me about my siku are unbearable. I slide open the bedroom window and slip out onto the roof, then slide down to the edge. From there its an easy jump to the juu of the shed and I can drop to the ground kwa holding the edge and swinging my legs down so the drop isn't too bad. Halfway down the drive, I finally notice that wewe are there, quiet, solid, firm and beautiful. I smile, wondering how I could ever be so lucky, to have someone so wonderful interested in me. What is it that attracts you?
***********
Kelvin was close to a century old now, the last forty years had been spent in relative seclusion in the mountains, trying to avoid unnecessary entanglements. He'd come to stay in Spooner eight years before. He remembered Astrid, an athletic blonde in 1950s Wisconsin, nestled in his arms, expressing wonder at all the things he could do in an unending lifetime. "All the things wewe could learn, all the places wewe could go!" He'd smiled then. At that point he'd only just begun to feel bored kwa everything. Since then it had only worsened, to the point that he'd willingly signed up to attend the local high school two years ago. High school! Has it really come to this, he thought?
But his long weeks spent just sitting in his house, watching dust gather on the furniture as the shadows repeatedly moved across the room, all told him it was so. Attending school let him pretend at normalcy, let him imagine, if just for a few short hours, that he hadn't lived an unchanging, homogenous existence for the past ninety years, that he was young and passionate again, with a whole brief life to look mbele to. A life short enough that each mwaka had meaning.
Of course, he attracted another girl. There was always a girl. au sometimes a boy. To him it didn't matter. It didn't matter that they were shy, au plain, au awkward. What mattered is that they sparkled with life, a vibrant pulsing life that he lusted to possess and which he could never have. He could barely even remember it after all these endless unchanging years. Being with her gave him the gift of memory, of thinking that he could be, had been young once, that he'd once cared about things, felt emotions so keenly as they did.
It was easy to behave as Sara wanted him to, if it meant that he could be close to her, experience that vibrancy for a short time before she, too, started to age and lose her passion. At that point, he would songesha on once more, unable to kubeba the thought of subjecting her to his ageless existence. It was a hell he would wish on no one, though she wouldn't understand that when the time came. And it would come all too soon. For now, though, they had each other, and he could feast his envy on her youth and beauty. For now, her feelings were so strong that they bled over into him, filling him, energizing him from the ennui of ceaseless life. For now, he could pretend that those feelings were shared. For now, they had love.
***********
Kelvin was close to a century old now, the last forty years had been spent in relative seclusion in the mountains, trying to avoid unnecessary entanglements. He'd come to stay in Spooner eight years before. He remembered Astrid, an athletic blonde in 1950s Wisconsin, nestled in his arms, expressing wonder at all the things he could do in an unending lifetime. "All the things wewe could learn, all the places wewe could go!" He'd smiled then. At that point he'd only just begun to feel bored kwa everything. Since then it had only worsened, to the point that he'd willingly signed up to attend the local high school two years ago. High school! Has it really come to this, he thought?
But his long weeks spent just sitting in his house, watching dust gather on the furniture as the shadows repeatedly moved across the room, all told him it was so. Attending school let him pretend at normalcy, let him imagine, if just for a few short hours, that he hadn't lived an unchanging, homogenous existence for the past ninety years, that he was young and passionate again, with a whole brief life to look mbele to. A life short enough that each mwaka had meaning.
Of course, he attracted another girl. There was always a girl. au sometimes a boy. To him it didn't matter. It didn't matter that they were shy, au plain, au awkward. What mattered is that they sparkled with life, a vibrant pulsing life that he lusted to possess and which he could never have. He could barely even remember it after all these endless unchanging years. Being with her gave him the gift of memory, of thinking that he could be, had been young once, that he'd once cared about things, felt emotions so keenly as they did.
It was easy to behave as Sara wanted him to, if it meant that he could be close to her, experience that vibrancy for a short time before she, too, started to age and lose her passion. At that point, he would songesha on once more, unable to kubeba the thought of subjecting her to his ageless existence. It was a hell he would wish on no one, though she wouldn't understand that when the time came. And it would come all too soon. For now, though, they had each other, and he could feast his envy on her youth and beauty. For now, her feelings were so strong that they bled over into him, filling him, energizing him from the ennui of ceaseless life. For now, he could pretend that those feelings were shared. For now, they had love.
inch kwa inch
bringing me closer
to my doom
butterflies of
anticipation
flutter nervously
in my stomach
knuckles whiten
jaws clench
what have I
gotten myself into
the suspense
is killing me
I'm going to hate it
I'm going to upendo it
I might lose my lunch
but I don't care
heaven help me
here it comes...
...
I hold my breath...
...
and then
I scream
my stomach
drops
my breath
is stolen
my heart
is pounding
adrenaline
courses
through
my veins
amid screams
of sweet terror
I fling up
my hands
and ride on
the wings
of Thrill!
I remember the siku I fell in love.
Not just simple love.
No, this was head over heels, I'd die for wewe love.
I remember where I fell in love.
A small middle school in a small town.
A place wewe could easily miss.
I remember the my matchmaker.
A short women, but with zaidi moto then wewe could ever imagine.
zaidi passion for what she does then I had ever seen.
I remember my girlfriends who were with me.
My athletic, sassy, fun-loving chicks.
My flirting consultants.
I remember him.
Good God, he was beautiful.
Yes, I remember the siku I fell in love.
True Love.
Head over heels love.
With..................
Basketball.
--------------------------------
This is dedicated to my first real mpira wa kikapu coach. She taught me not just how to play basketball, but how to be part of a team. I have so much respect for her and I know I should thank her everyday for helping me fall in love. For Coach Joy.
Not just simple love.
No, this was head over heels, I'd die for wewe love.
I remember where I fell in love.
A small middle school in a small town.
A place wewe could easily miss.
I remember the my matchmaker.
A short women, but with zaidi moto then wewe could ever imagine.
zaidi passion for what she does then I had ever seen.
I remember my girlfriends who were with me.
My athletic, sassy, fun-loving chicks.
My flirting consultants.
I remember him.
Good God, he was beautiful.
Yes, I remember the siku I fell in love.
True Love.
Head over heels love.
With..................
Basketball.
--------------------------------
This is dedicated to my first real mpira wa kikapu coach. She taught me not just how to play basketball, but how to be part of a team. I have so much respect for her and I know I should thank her everyday for helping me fall in love. For Coach Joy.
Just a poem. I hope it isn't much of a bother to rate.
I dream of all things
Uncertain of dark deeds and pasts
Within these thoughts as dark as sea
When once those wings of black
Hung over all
Shadowing but of the wretched white
That blinds me of all beauty.
I dream of all things
From happiness to highs
Let down these pills
au I’m gone, retreat inside my mind
Where none but the darkest thoughts
Swallowing twilight
I dream of all things
From the stories told kwa hidden scars
Unable to onyesha themselves
Under this intense scrutiny
That makes up this world’s attire
To the times that I could be happy
Without a drug to create
The much-needed illusion...
I dream of all things
No matter of their contents
Because, well,
Nightmares are still dreams.
I dream of all things
Uncertain of dark deeds and pasts
Within these thoughts as dark as sea
When once those wings of black
Hung over all
Shadowing but of the wretched white
That blinds me of all beauty.
I dream of all things
From happiness to highs
Let down these pills
au I’m gone, retreat inside my mind
Where none but the darkest thoughts
Swallowing twilight
I dream of all things
From the stories told kwa hidden scars
Unable to onyesha themselves
Under this intense scrutiny
That makes up this world’s attire
To the times that I could be happy
Without a drug to create
The much-needed illusion...
I dream of all things
No matter of their contents
Because, well,
Nightmares are still dreams.