Category Archives: affairs of the heart

Childhood Indulgence

The place we used to hide in is no longer a secret, they have discovered it and known the secrets it kept. Our beautiful moments flew when adulterous wives brought their men in; the charcoal notes stood the test of time—to tell tales of our childhood indulgence.

Love Pencil Art Wallpaper Pencil Art Hd Wallpaper

I need You

I need you
I need you like the desert needs rain
Like the breathless need air
Like the flowers need sunshine
I need from the first chapter
of my love story to the last

I want to hold your hands
Laugh at your jokes
walk by your side
tickle you every minute
Snuggle on the couch
Look into your eyes
Talk about everything
and kiss your lips every single day

Lengthen the Rope

I’m not your dream husband
There’s a lot you haven’t known
I’m just a loose-leafed book
And my pages caress with winds
I’m just a thirsty traveler,
I drink chilly waters
from coolest rivers
but no river can change my course
nor end my adventures
You love me?
I know
I wish I could love you in equal measure
But love is a strange thing
Those who give it
Never get it back
Mine is a heart of stone
Love can never sprout
Blame it
On the one before you
Who ripped it apart
when the vultures had fed on the pieces
The heart mender filled the frame with stones
I feel no emotions
Just concern
Dear this thing will hurt you
But you can’t tether me
I enjoy my adventures
In the forests of the valley
And tenderness of the hills
I traverse between small and large crevices
Sapping
Elixir for my worn soul
Dear if you have to tether me
Lengthen the rope
I’am a wild goat
I eat the healthiest plantain shoots
If you must tether me
Lengthen the rope

Of Battered Men

We’re the ones who welcome
The rising sun with unspoken questions
Should we leave should we stay?
Should we give should we ask?
Should we be grateful?
Should we complain?
Because marriage hasn’t been paradise
And promises became autonyms
Hearts have since grown colder
And lips bolder
They speak what they want
They tell of the mistakes that was
“Having kids was a mistake”
“Marrying you was a mistake”
So she slept on my bed
And drew the boundary
Do not even touch me
You’ll never own me
Coitus?
I’ll have it with men of substance
So I count the many times:
I resisted an attempt to hit her
I mopped her vomit off the floor
I sang lullabies so our children
Wouldn’t see her drunk
I checked my bank account
Just to know if it guaranteed a future
Without her
Now my children know their father is no man at all
Because every night they hear he say so

Truth Sucks

She owns her world
She deserves it all
A husband, pretty kids and finances
She reaches out to grab what she lacks
Spreads he thighs to get it in rare proportions
She says how sweet I ‘am
She calls me honey
She told me she felt like she was born anew
After hours of thrusting into her
She licks my ears and gently bites my pinna
Her muffled groans drive me crazy
My strength in bed is something I take pride in
But she takes me to greater heights when she orgasms
She grabs my hair, plunge her nails deep into my back and screams my name
She says no one does it like me
I reach her depths
I goad her edges
Before spraying her insides with wonder sap
We pretend we love
We indulge, losing ourselves
In throes of passion
And truths surface
I’m the missing equation in her marriage
A fruit salad after a lamb chop
And I loathe myself
The worst you can do to a man
Is reduce his existence
To the length of his penis
And how long it can stay before turning flaccid

Work In Progress

I’m the one whose presence is annotated by perpetual absence of silence, call me siren
I’m you when your own heartbeat defies every step you take on the career ladder,
I’m the cancer that ate your mother’s breast when I knew she had twelve kids to be fed,
I’m the conniving spirits that duped your addicted father that rehab is for those trying to quit
I’m the hunger that drove you insane peddling your virtues for a plate of crumbs,
I’m the light skin black sheep of the family whose identity has been lost, everyday learning all that I am; all that makes my stomach churn with rage when I see in others.
I’m a hollow casket; my own corpse believes I stink
I am a lost shepherd sought after by sheep
I barely know me
I need revelation, from he who created me
The things I swore I couldn’t do have become a part of me
The things I hate doing
Things that fill me to the brim with self-loathe
Things hidden beneath my teeth and clothes

Sometimes I think my very existence is a mistake
My shoulders are burdened by heavy bundles of blame
For a past that I had no control over
Whoever sowed my seeds maliciously laced them with shame

I am sandwiched between two extremes;
Nobody understands me, neither do I
What am I worth?
I am the color of disappointment,
A definition of failure,
The barren branch of a vine that is chopped and burnt

The path to righteousness bruised my shoulders
Vanity didn’t find a place me
Love chose butterflies, fled from the dull me
Behind me trail 99 problems
No one in sight to help me solve them
And I am addicted to things am ashamed to pen…

What do I stand for?
For what purpose was I created?
Am I the only one asking these questions?

I am a faulty gun in the hands of a novice hunter cornered by a vicious prey
I am prey to alarm chimes reminding me every morning that I’m too small for my age yet too old for my dreams
I am the mess the society created but felt too good to clean,
I am the last crunch of a midnight snack that the throat moistens to swallow but the tongue still wants it back.
I am the insatiable bits of lust that blinded love. That craving for attention that sparked #mydressmychoice tension that lured your sister in her sweet sixteen to dress in micro-mini to call for catcalls without seeing sins in this, wallowing in the oblivion that ladies who command catcalls reduce themselves to specimens on which men practice their dominance.
I am a vestige of all the man I was meant to be, for when all is said and done the dilapidated apartments of my ribcage sinks at the weight of my failures, the stench of my wounded ego whisked my ambitions out of my system unto your doorstep as realities, so don’t brag to me about being on top of your world, man that’s my dream you’re living.
I am the last words of a slain poet, chocking on the metaphors as the last strike of destiny left my face spanked in wisps of crimson.
I’m the lost Angel knocking on Satan’s door, with premeditated good intentions soiled by your wicked expectations. The mustard seed of my existence strives to thrive, to give you million shades of love but you want to get me chained and spank me with lashes. Damn it! My creator fills my needs with million shades of grace so you can keep your filthy shades of Grey for yourself.
I’m the eye that finds you whenever you’re lost in thoughts, the gentleness in a beast that enticed the beauty, the flickers of nostalgia for times yet to come, the allure of a raspy voice that cajoled her to loosen up just 5 mins after meeting him.

I’m the history of mysteries that made you a best fit, a victim of your victories, the crooked stick that straightened your path to political stardom, the rag on the foot of your throne, the misfit that you dish thousands to have his head on plate, the ground is yet to drink the all blood of my lot you slaughtered to get where you’re. Success comes with a price tag but why are we the ones to pay for yours? Because we don’t have lives, because we’re shackled in poverty, because our lives don’t matter. listen, did you hear that. that’s the voice of my maker reminding you that this being you despise, this being you hate religiously, this being you’ve reduced to a metric to gauge your political bearing, this being you want dead because he couldn’t conform to your ideologies is still a work in progress.

Lost

I have been standing here too long
Counting all that I’ve lost
The love of my life is mute
Ignoring my advances to have her close
Building walls with pillars of my love
Anchoring my love for her on lies
Of her past lover

How many times do I have to call
When I know she won’t pick up?
How many words do I have to speak
To ears blocked with hate
For all beings male?

Does she care what I do?
Does she care what i feel?
Does she care who I spend my time with?
She’s left me in a state of apathy

She cares of nothing about us
what i thought we had
never existed in the first place

I’m back in this room I know too well
Soon the blood shall flow
And the smell will summon them
The hungry mongrels
To grab my heart pieces
like roasted hooves
of a slain lamb