The last time I wore a suit was
my high school prom. A
grateful world has left me,
without funerals to attend.
The last time I wore a jonny,
I danced the wind in dad's room.
Machines that beeped and whirred
were somehow keeping him alive.
When I finally picked the phone up,
we'd already talked, two hours.
The person, your disease has curtained,
read my poems for the camera.
The last time we got high, I wanted you
to hear that Strokes song, and
listen to you list objections, to our
sharing a kiss.
I'll take a dare, and tell the truth
to you, over phenomenal music and
exhaust. I'll be desperate if you promise
to stay as vulnerable as you know how to be.
The last time we took the car together,
I remember you weren't so afraid.
The next time you try being alone with me
I'll insist I shouldn't be driving.
The last few times I'd felt brave enough,
but courage never serves me. If the
Queen's decided not-to, it's as
sure as our demise is.
And all-Earth smells like a lake town,
hurts, just like a headache, can't get
all the ink-out, blinking
at the sky.
The last time I felt so alive we
were driving some way, that you
realized, halfway-there, you're
On a runaway ride out from trouble
the passenger seat always
seems to be
Who will care? Who will cry?
Too many wrongs,
Not enough rights,
Get twisted in your head,
Voices from the living,
Voices from the dead,
Demons, will visit you,
They laugh out loud,
Into the growing crowd,
They are now chanting,
Beating a drum,
Begging, and pleading,
Willing you to come
Even though it’s not your time,
Close your eyes,
You will be just fine,
Who will care?
Who will cry?
Will they even wonder why?
Only you can decide,
Whether to listen to the voice!
Loved ones left behind
Will never be given,
We all know shame and understand to avoid it when necessary. But sometimes, we just walk down her street and hope the world would forget.
Do they forget? Or do you forget? The unexplainable embarrassment of the year.
Yeah! My case was a shame of the year and this is how it happened.
My grandma, "a hajat" runs a retail shop along a highway in some small town. It faces a rising sun which I enjoy bathing on the cold days.
I greet her, grab a chair, place it onto the verandah as soon as she opens her doors to the shop.
She is a tough person to read really. Unlike most elderly ladies who give a cozy feeling while talking to them, she freaks me out. Like she doesn't like me. Or for some reason, hates me and just blurs me in her mind's eye. And I think I did give her a reason to.
About eight months ago, I came to live next to her, at my own place in my own first home. A single room, rented, along a muddy road (cause it's raining now) off the highway. The building is one block away from where the shop is. So if the shop faces north, my room would face the east.
I should say I didn't know her until that time. Like we had not seen each other until then, and until she sold me a three litre Jerry can for I think triple the price, Ugshs 3500. And then, she gave me a reason to go to other shops. It was expensive even in my own ignorance since I had never done shopping for household items before.
So I tried other shops and bought a five litre jerry can at Ugshs2500. I was happy. It felt like money well spent. That I was a genius finally in control of my first days in the real world, away from home and school.
But at the same time, a wrong or the best idea of never to buy from her again. I mean, if family is to be exploited by you, am sorry grandma, I ain't going to be part of your legacy.
So the sneaky dealings started like I was buying drugs from another dealer and had to be sure she never comes to know. Not that she would do anything, but really it would look weird.
My new dealer would be a shop along the same highway, on the same side, just a one block away from the grandma's left. A she of course, who undeniably is beautiful. A gracious voice and radiant smile, offering to do way good stuff if I buy from her. Like she sorts my rice so I take ready to cook and eat. Which of course my grandma, wouldn't do. And again, she is beautiful.
Anyway I usually peeked at the verandah to see if grandma wasn't there, then walk like a boss to my dealer whom am so proud to buy from. And this was just smooth until, I can't even say...
It was a normal black out, just a few candle lights from the still open shops, and flashing lights of passing vehicles. The sky was dark enough for the many visible stars that dotted it's canvas. And this guy, myself, chooses to take a walk, masking the night, thinking about my own duties till I come close to my dealer's shop, "mama Mariam" that I remembered I had a pickup to do.
It was dark and if that wouldn't have been the best time, then there wouldn't have been any better. She was not on her verandah, but dumping rubbish into a "pit." so I took hold of the moment and made the pickup. I didn't ask for a wrapping for my 1kg of rice and turned to leave the shop.
And duh, lights everywhere. To be specific, light above my head. Electricity was back from its normal routines as it always is in developing countries. Very bright. Probably a new bulb. Looking across me, grandma standing on the verandah looking back at me. With my spoils in my hands, I swear I wished to be anywhere else but not there. I was drowning literally in my mind that I froze for sometime. May be a minute or two. Until I went back into the shop and asked for a wrapping before walking shamefully with my head low.
It was the worst I had ever felt in a long time. Wait, the worst that I still do feel. So guilty that I have been avoiding my morning sun bath.
And when I did see her, she replied to me like nothing had happened. Huh? Nothing?!
Just with her stale face like before which could mean she always knew I bought from that shop. Or worst, "I don't care. You can go to hell grandson. You are a sellout."
And to the moment I write this, I still feel her stale eyes, hear her raspy voice like echoes from a nightmare that am never to wake up from, taunting me like a ghost.
Grandma, am sorry. But she is a pretty lady the stole me from you. Please just understand why I had to do this. It was a tough decision that took seconds to make and would probably do the same until you start selling a bit cheaply. Wait, even if you did, she is a pretty woman and that's a good reason to keep buying from
And again, am sorry! Love you!
The father is the trunk standing tall and firm
Showing conviction to the young, by his example they learn.
His roots seek nourishment, he never stops to rest
His family wants for nothing because he gives his best.
He patiently endures, and meets all demands
His strength is impressive, mighty and grand.
The mother is the branches stretching her arms to hold her child
Firm and flexible, strong and mild.
Her leaves of protection give shelter from the rain
That are the tears of rejection, injustice and pain.
Her pearls of wisdom are like ripening fruit
Sweetly teaching in her great repute
This family tree gets taken for granted
So many children grow up empty handed
Even though at times they may all disagree
There is nothing more essential than the family tree.
when those we have elected tell us blatant lies
and call them “alternative facts”
we should not wait too long to call them liars
make them aware that we don’t share
their newspeak fantasies and visions
removed from everyday reality
nor do we treasure their maneuvers
that keep the media all hyped up
reporting every tweet as if it were
one of the ten commandments
Moses once held up in stone
behind quite secret White House doors
the leader’s relatives and cronies
incompetent but greedy
are nominated for positions of whose duties
they do not really have a clue
a friend of oil & coal & fracking
supposedly protects our environment
an ignorant billionairess
who never really saw a public school
is now in charge of education
a business man with heavy ties to Russia
is asked to steer our foreign policy
a judge well known for his quite racist bias
is thought to fit into the supreme court
and many of the Wall Street’s alligators
whose swamps the current leader
has kept promising to drain
all through his great campaign
are happily assembled ‘round the trough
of power influence and money
facts quite ‘alternative’ indeed
from those that had been promised
for over more than a whole year
by that self-styled
‘candidate against the establishment’
with not so secret Russian ties
There's a guy in my life who I adore,
As a friend,
As a brother,
But nothing more.
No romantic feelings lie between us,
And that's okay.
To be honest,
We prefer it this way.
He is beautiful,
A true best friend.
We have a lot of good times,
I'll love him 'til the end.
In my heart rest our memories,
Of us walking,
Making big bonfires,
Or staying up all night talking.
I'll never forget our cat,
But I cannot wait
Until we see him again.
For I'm proud to call him my family,
And I know,
We'll always be here for each other.
To my sweet little brother
Remembering your sweetness
Saddens me to the core
All the efforts you ever made
To make that bratty sister smile
Always resulted in her being vile
Forgive me, for I didn't know better
Now regret is my companion
I deserve your cold shoulder
My prayer is that before we get older
Some sense is knocked into out brains
Before its ultimately too late
grains of sand
between two slices of bread
blackberry juice boxes and orange dilute
a gloop of oily sun-block
a scent of petrol, coconut, ice-cream
and nothing but pastel blue
a canary yellow body-board
dropped in above my knees
my mother tugging it along
goading me towards the deep
I cling to it til she snaps it from me
I'm pulled underneath
limbs thrashing, lungs gasping
the shock of being afloat
was how I learned to swim in the Maharees
on sandy Fahamore
under Brandon mountain peak
to be born out of the sky
or bled out of a rock
still we desire to love
that from which we came,
and even in adoption
we reduce the power of conscious ties
burying them under nature -
- so dirty is her underside that
We become cleansed when in contact
with the discarded affection
brewed and not based in inheritance
composed and created in nurture
hardly automated in the infant
w h o s e v i s i o n is c l e a n s e d i n b i r t h
t o t h e p o i n t o f p a r t i a l b l i n d n e s s
in the light of future flooding