The last time

On a full moon in November a fire was set. The reel of an agonising film. Exiled to the brink of over bearing emotion. My heart an under study to his genuine affinity for selfishness.

Like salt inside open surgery. His arms were a belt and they engulfed and held me up. But the older the leather the larger holes in security. And so the story ends.

Excommunicated to the abyss of impossible saves. In motel rooms and empty highways. From the mirrors averted I saw clearly. The look of a lion that devours whole. That is the energy of the worshipers of nothing. I accepted him. I loved every single finger lifted over my mind. Finding deep inside the lake and its twin.

The signs flew red and at half mast. With nothing to believe in an exit was expected of me. Between the road a bright yellow line was drawn to separate me from the person on either side of each spectrum of honesty.

In truth the final fallacy. I would have stayed and bloodied my shirt and stomach. Injested old whiskey and cleaned throw up. I can see it, mothering and teaching only science. Pragmatic and eccentric.

Does he dream of me like that?
The ground has now moved my whole bossom. Bottled up chaos runs free over tall grass. The veins of his tree have dried in the desert. I water inside where he does not reach. In him the hate for my spirit grows. The desperation to make me a body again. Blinded by my turquoise he throws skill at me. History and touch to me.

I am aware of change. Glorious in humility. I see him out.

Finally I am free

The end.

Sensual politics

The return was amethyst. A fall back to the inner workings of peace. Piece by boring human piece. Without touching any part of my temple.

With hands and and the lingering sensation of touch Without. You Floated to the top of my memories. From the enemy the temptation to swear upon your eyes comes. But I will resist thee.

Inside my pink book I have wielded cliches of sunset eyes and deep tones. Past the thousands I have sang praises to Jesus for the gift that you are.

My equal, there is no measure of war or love affairs. The haunting is a weight of the souls we each must carry. On the throne of omnipresence and the details in forgiveness.

Sparingly the matrimony may suffice. A love I could endure for a human life. The times do not affect nor do they wildly change.

The need to connect is here and I accept it.

Called upon is the razor sharp wit of my true self. The soft kiss and whisper on my back. Smooth sailing paper boats over a river of tears that are joyful. Cut to shards  the ego and now my love; I boat and plane to you.

From a corner I observe the way I ignite your arms and legs. Let’s forget the reasons, run towards altars and strip all clothing.

The end.

Confessions of a witness

Yes or No??

I do not like the grey of the in between. Clarity is my only resolve. A gun smokes in the corner of this tavern. Like a fate twisted by opposites a fight has been brought to my door.

The ground is alive and in it the face of something spiritual. When the morning starts its day, the midday sun reminds me of ash.

The left over pusha reefer of my baby. He takes all things into consideration. Deciding the value of life. As the rank is pulled over our decisions, the contact we share with our eyes assures me in the car to take.

Speeding south on the highway. Hands locked in choice, to ride or die with you. I have seen my father watch all our secrets unfold

Believe me;

He knows everything we have shared.

I hope you will believe in me when I say the love is yours.

6PM rides. The sun set view of a traveller who seeks. I was scared but it has passed. I love you and I am showing. Collecting your beauty all over town. Keeping it in my heart till it makes up the whole of you.
Yesterday was a lesson of the lengths you go for me. This time I see the heavenly. The love you give me is real.

The cool in Entebbe is you my driver. Fort portal sounds like fun.

The end


An Old mother
Conditioned sunshine
Wooden, gated and consumed

To describe you my love
I toss into piles
A conspiracy I could believe

The will and plan
I accept it all
sad songs to become
The Depth in watery poetry

I have known you like my parent
Darkened without limitation
Inside your goals
I rest assured

Stars and springs
You are my only one.

The end.

Safe travel

Hidden in fine print is the remnant of a story. I believe specifically in the love of my life. The hero is long gone. Leaving behind the unmatched destiny that is wisdom.

There is no comparison of heartbreak. One wound is not bigger than another. Broken down is the vision that was.

I left behind every single minute of you. Bottomless mimosas and adventures. Underneath every encounter with destiny. The endless souls in eyes. An eclipsed sun rose and stayed for an hour. Time interpreted into years. The house a hoax and this thing I speak into his ear. It is poison, Eve and sin meet the line between good and evil. A woman; oh my A human woman. The slithering of destiny’s bite finds me in the middle of a desert.

A sleepless night and the illusions. Vivid like the colour of your honesty. Hands and the meaning of communication. I have seen it through. The person I promised I would be. And yet I judged myself too harshly; seeing everything I was in everyone.

I am learning already. Back to the bottom that’s heavy. Please, I am crying and begging you. Don’t leave me. My saviour, please I need to see him again. I need life in my veins.

I will be stronger in my focus.

To be the one you love.

So I return new and reborn as a pillar. The foundation in all the women I have written. The furthest thing from fiction.

The time has come for me to re fuel the love I have ignored. I make it out of Muyonyo alive. No regrets and with me I have all it takes. To receive the forgiveness for my sins. The one I have misled into false love.

The job of the man was to suffer and write it down in action. I have learnt the weight of love and now I know who I can trust to always follow. On my turn he walks behind and still he follows.

My love, you are profound.
Like salt that I must protect. With prayer and a sharp sword.

The end.

The streets are calling my name

They send a new reminder. I did it all again. Fell to the bottom of my heart. To launch from my feet the mission. I have to carry from below all the weight of my body. I need a new shade of Grace. The holy spirit from the Son of man.

The beauty of love is that it endures. True freedom and salvation. Love into well meaning arms. On top of the rift valley is fateless people. Blinded by the armour on TV. The joy in fake contentment.

This is meant to pull you apart. To reach inside you and win you over to the good side. Yes God is the only Goodness that is fully, tremendously and over all Honestly Good.

I do not want any more fakes. The gossip should be transformed into the soulful kind of gospel.

This is my reason;

In my darkest days I never gave up on life. On the way it nolonger hurts because I am protected. Nudged slightly into love. Brown eyes, shades of deep. No other person in the world could do! I have left the truth with you.

Blow fire over my scars.
No more scores to be kept
I forgive you.

The end.

Soul wars

It isn’t for me. The look from across the room On my birthday at 3am. Behind curfew lines and heavenly signs. The eventual truth, of you before me. To plead into forgiveness.

I have promised despite the warning. Failing to break free from your hold. Inside my body you have found a home. Holding my heart to yours. I want to be your co driver. Come with for every night. I smile when you reach out for me to touch. A slice of silence in the tense air of salvaged history.
I want to die old and with you.

The crescent forms in your eyes. My heart may break and murder it will be. When you break the last of my faith. I need to dream free. From the things we shared. The sober tales of hunter gatherers. Myself, the one you know. The truth is very appreciated. I just wasn’t ready for the sting in honesty.

Enough, you are more than requested. An answer from a writer’s purgatory. My block finds you and dies. Your hug inspires waterfalls of calligraphy.

I dreamt that I was in a garden. A gated sanctuary. Outside I could see the future but despite trying I couldn’t run to it. Like a keeper you held me back and explained the beauty of the flowers.

I cried back into this realm. The demise of all my excuses.

This is how I look at it. The timing is askew. A few years from now, I could come by. Under your gazebo we would catch up. And I would love you then just like I did on the first day.

The end.


You have me tied in –
All up in your mind
These are formations of a foundation
Lasting entanglements of pleasure
Each path leads to love

To trust;

Inside covers you make me cry
In the way that soothes
I could almost swear on your tactics
The way you learn me

To listen is to be held
And You are the founder of this town
Where we reside till sunset

The end


Roasted by the central sun. My people have tinkered with flavour for generations. Inside a plantation I found a capsule of time. Hidden under undisturbed soil. Inside were pictures of the truth. I always knew he had returned, without me to our spot.

Five years had gone by. I missed everything about his face. The Bush in his eyebrows and the gap between his teeth. The west on his tongue and the soul in his prose. Under starry nights he read to me from his journal. Laughing between awkwardness to shield his honesty. A young love; my only true one.

His name was Mwiru, his father a rival to mine. The cliches did not escape me. Over sluggish afternoons in the longest holiday of the school year we escaped from the watchful eye of our parents. Behind the cattle he picked the wildest flowers for me. Leading me away into the nearest town. There we spent hours in watering holes.

I watched him keenly. As he danced with a drunk. His eyes never breaking contact with mine. And when he kissed me it was under an ancient tree. As the last week of December came, it was time to leave happiness behind. He hugged me with everything,crying into my hair for eternity.

I did leave and he kept everything. My first try at poetry. A picture of us in the weekly market. His journal and the letter I sent.

Dear Mwiru,
I slept and dreamt about you
I woke up and thought about you
I think I love you.

You know who!

” I see you found my message,” a deep voice said.

It couldn’t be. Mwiru, the man. Tall and slender. Walking stick and rain boots. The eyes of arousal. Toung tied, un done.

” I simply had to come.” I said

” You still cant resist me.” Mwiru said with a smirk.

“That much is true.” I said moving closer to get a better look. ” what did you want to say?”

” I think you already know,” Mwiru said

“I want to hear it from you,” I said.

“Well, everything is wrong right now. But you are right. I have missed you for so long. I need my friend back. I need my love back.”

The end.


My shining star.
Your halo glows black
From a mile away
I am touched
By an angel of circumstance
Over an ocean
I would walk
Surfing every wave
Healing every ache

Words are not enough
The night we met
The hours we talked
My heart is in your eyes
Pulling strings of emotion in my dormant mind

The end.