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

Cerelac Babe

I guess I fell for a cerelac babe,
no wonder our relationship has teething problems

Hearts will shrink

There comes a day when reality will spill on the pages of our lives, when your heart will shrink to encapsulate the little I offered. And we’ll weep why love always is an improper fraction, weighty expectations on malnourished shoulders

Grand Illusion

How many times do you have to be heartbroken for you to realize that this thing called love is a Grand Illusion

Haiku-Pain

Lost in meditation
seeking a panacea for this pain
The heart you stabbed needs a dose of your medication

Hearts Ripped In Throes of Passion

Charlie listened to her plans and knew he was in trouble. The pursuit had ended sooner than he expected. His was a cautious heart, still harboring bandages and stitches from a relationship he knew was destined to earthly heavens. It was now that he realized that he didn’t need a woman and all the pursuit he had waged was just under the illusion that she needed a nurse to dress the wounds that were causing him sleepless nights, but wounds of the heart need no dressing. They are to be left to heal on their own for even the hands of angels aren’t soft enough not to leave a bruise on delicate wounds. He was learning that if there was a concoction for healing a wounded heart then a woman wasn’t a part of it. The concoction would be made of three recipes; time, time and time.

“Babe, are you even listening?” Annett prodded.

“Yeah, we’ll have children, we’ll wed and we’ll travel the world on love’s back. What more have you talked about?”

“Babe, don’t be cynical about love, why did you say it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like this”, she twitched her lips. She was pissed off.

Here she was, trying to please a man who was too mean to pay her the least attention she needed. Why does it always have to be like this? Finally Charlie was proving to be worse in conversation than Kev she was ditching, but he had it all; all he sought in a man. He was well endowed, got looks to die for and was stable financially. Even if he was incompetent in other aspects, he would be worth the risk.

To Charlie, love was a grand illusion. It was a huge chess board, every player reading the opponent’s mind and hiding their next moves under their sleeves and aha! Their true intentions surface, too late for any defense. Good intentions floored as illicit passions take toll. And then ravens would perch on nearby trees, waiting for the opportune time to come down and feed on the vestiges of hearts spread on rugged earth, hearts ripped in throes of passion.

Heartbroken

Sometimes its better to walk in shoes with no laces than to mend heart pieces with threads of false hope

 

– George agak

Murder? Can’t Be

Marcel woke up from his drunken stupor, his muscles worn of fatigue, he stretched his every joint making such weird crackle. Pushing his blanket aside he struggled to his feet, stretched his hands and yawned releasing a nasty smell of yesterday’s rum. The sun was already up and the rays struck through his bedroom window creating an ambience he never really seemed to enjoy, rubbing his eyes he walked to the washrooms. He lowered his head into the sink letting water flow through his hair. He never cared to use the face towel maybe after pangs of hunger struck so painfully he couldn’t ignore them. He made his way to the kitchen, water still dripping from his hair making his back wet.

Even in his most weary state he knew his kitchen door is always locked, he held the knob and thrust the key into the keyhole but before he could initiate any motion with the key in the lock the door opened. Normally, this would be a big reason to worry but since yesterday was a day they had spent celebrating her son’s birthday his kitchen had got accessed by all who cared to step in there and so this was expected anyway. He lit the cooker and placed some water to boil, he opened a freezer from where he expected to pick a packet of milk but what greeted his eyes was quite fictitious if not frightening. In his freezer laid a frozen body of a boy they had spent the better part of the night searching for. Apparently Jose had opted to hide in the freezer knowing that none of the kids would find him and he will be the winner of hide and seek game they were playing after enjoying meals that were served at the party. However his winning plan proved torturous when his whole body became numb, maimed by freezing cold within his hiding hole. He might have tried to open the freezer but he couldn’t unlock it while inside and that only left him with a single option- to look death in its eye and maybe embrace it.

The police cells were cold and dirty, they reeked of urine and piss. At the corner of this cell where he was, a bucket filled with piss and urine was stored and who knows it maybe his turn to empty it. From the very day he got here he has got more reasons to dread it than he had anticipated. You can’t imagine how fellow offenders beat him up for killing a child. He had become a criminal of the highest cadre without even knowing it. His whole body ached from uncalled for beatings both from the police and the fellow criminals but that pain was nothing compared to what he was to go through.

He was still using every thread his mind could hold to knit his niche in this world he had been forced to live in when the officer came to the window and shouted his name.

‘Marcel Kwong’ he shouted. But when nobody answered all eyes roved on him, partially because he was the only freshman. He neither moved nor talked.

The officer flashed him a bilious look before shouting his name again, almost insanely. He awoke from his lost state of mind and answered ‘yes Afande’. That earned him some ‘knee therapy’ after which he was frog-matched to the visitors’ room. When he saw Jose’s father he went to his knee and swore, ‘I didn’t kill your son’. he looked at Marcel in the eye and for a moment Marcel thought he didn’t hear him but when he spoke he spat venom,

‘I wish you accept my solemn gift, I will make this earth a furnace for you even if it will cost the last drop of my blood’ he paused and then ‘I will kill you, just like I killed your wife’

and then he left, leaving him being ripped apart by the venom he had spat on him. What a lie he had lived, Matt was his best friend or so he thought but now this revelation opened his eyes, he wasn’t a friend anymore but a villain the world was delaying to deport.