Far & wide clear across vision
Darting up through coral skies
the strong but silent type.
Awe inspiring creation
words cannot describe
breath taking beauty.
The type you pay to see
yet from God it's free
though it's worth every dime you spent
or every hiking boot
Clean water pure enough to drink
flowing through trees
trickling down in icy streams
tiny flowers gracing paths
waterfalls in the walls
All for our amazement
My mother called me the devil child
Because I was loud, destructive and wild
I found out years later I was born with ADHD
No one wanted ever to spend time with me
Parents didn’t know of ADHD and why I was different
They didn’t understand and they were very intolerant
Parents told older sister I was bad and she didn’t have to be around or play with me
So much of the time alone was really no fun, however for some help I did make a plea
I heard my mother double dog dare my father to hit me
Mother would refer to me as a turd in front of the family
All my cousins were smart, while I was failing all my classes in school
Got in to many fights with bullies and teachers who were always cruel
My family would all make fun of me, call names bully and tease
I was the loser that anyone could do or say what they pleased
None of my cousins was I ever allowed to play
I was always much of the time was alone all day
I lived in a strange house my dad was very to the T religious
And my mother was always drunk and of course blameless
She’d drink when home from work on the weekends or holidays
And could always hide it from all her friends and the relatives
No one believed me when I told them that she had been drinking
They acted like I was crazy by then I knew what they were thinking
My mother took me out on Friday nights to eat and buy whatever I wanted, after work
Her last stop was always the liquor store for drink and smoke, I was left in car like a jerk
She bought games and toys that took two or more to play, but she nor did dad never have any intension
Of spending anytime with me because I was in there way. I was a bad child that needed intervention
Wasn’t the perfect child I admit; I ran off when I was 16 did things I regret parents put me
Away, they came for counseling I complained about moms drinking and she felt angry
She said that her drinking wasn’t my problem and she’d be back to see me when I could face the truth
Never could mother admit to her or dad doing wrong, everything was always because I was a youth
Came home from school one day mom was passed out on the living room floor dead drunk
Called ambulance for her Dr blamed me and said no visit, and he called me a punk
My dad would come home and find she was throwing up while passed out always in her bed
I’d watch him take bowls and put them near her mouth to catch it, was something I would dread
He’d walk to the bathroom to empty the bowl and go back to get the next one to do the very same
And replace the unfilled one and repeat the process. I was told by her doctor that I was the blame
Sometimes mom would go running down the hall to the toilet bowl to throw up my heart would race
Because I always knew mom would do this and then she’d come to my room to scare rant and pace
Since I was a bad spoiled child who had parents with money, nice house cars and good jobs
And I was not willing to help out or be responsible, was told I made the family look like slobs
My sister let her boyfriend talk her into letting him take me to the dentist, instead he molested me
But no one believed me because in the past I had lied about things, and the truth no one would see
Since I was different all the cousins, my aunts and uncle could blame me for when things went missing
Or went wrong I was then and still am now the perfect scapegoat and yes about it I’m still babbling
My father ran out the back door, when he heard me wake up and come out of my room
So he didn’t have to bother with me, I wanted to spend time with him he’d assume
Somehow I managed to graduate from high school and I then would move
To a different city I felt I might have better luck and my life would improve
Married two very bad guys both who beat, threatened me and verbally abused
Divorced them both and had one child and how I’d raise this child alone I was confused
Tried to work and go to school never was competent enough to follow through
Each time I would start either I did not have the ability of completing anything new
Am not proud of this but I had 30 jobs that I lost in 10 years and even tried going to college
Unable to remember how and when to do things, my head from years of abuse was in a fog
Filed for SSI and Social Security, got on section 8, food stamps WIC and other government aid
I needed a home for myself and my daughter so I had to depend on things like this to get paid
My daughter grew up, became ill with a repeating debilitating disease
I dedicated myself to getting her well, and nothing about it was a breeze
Had to take her in pain weekly for Doctor visits many times she’d cry and wished she were dead
This broke my heart with no family help, just her and I to face things in the days and years ahead
Unable to attend school for years, the Doctor signed permission to stay home
School system assigned a teacher who was mean nothing about her was tome
School Social workers interfered
And my name they smeared
She finally one day went into remission
And now the nephrotic kidney condition
Seems for now to have forever gone for good away
For years it’s been don’t want others to downplay
For a while I homeschooled her and the first semester back in the public school
She was on the honor roll things seemed to be looking up and I felt like I was the rule
Then one day she lost interest in classes, homework and attending
And the principal of the high school was calling and threatening
Pulled her out and put her in to get her GED
Soon she was out within month of three
A year before she was supposed to graduate
I knew by then that I was doing things right
Enrolled me and her in community college we made the Dean’s list and acquired no student loan debt
Last may she and I graduated have started a new life and now I don’t feel things in my life are a threat
But alone I’ve raised a good child, self-published a book and kept things together
I’ve published some poetry and stories in magazines that will be on web pages forever
Even though my parents have helped me out once in a while financially
I feel lack of respect since they helped family who treated me crummy
I’m still feeling and have most of the hopeless thoughts when I was young
But I still try to steer my daughter to be different from me and hold my tongue
Those cousins with the high degree
Don’t seem to have too much on me
Both lost their jobs within a year out of college from being snobs and dishonest
But the parents just think that it was because others were being so glibbest
Both stuck alone in life working in their old age
That just mostly pays a low minimum wage
My sister divorced her husband for molesting her children still won't speak to me, told her kids I was bad
She lives in my town and over 20 years she’s never visited so by her I've been for life had
Most of all I think it's because my parents never would face reality or admit
To any wrong doing of years of abuse and neglect, something I couldn't forget
Why am I talking about this after all these years still?
Because I think that it may just possibly help me to heal
You did not ask
Standing quite still
In my cupboard
You wanted no friend,
Certainly no lover
Just peace and quiet;
The comfort of
Under a blood red cap.
And a sticker
Slapped across your side
Maybe they were right
The gaping skull
And his bones
Crossed in an X
a toxic kiss
marking the very spot.
But I'd still long
to drink you dry
Blind to the words
'deadly' and 'risk'
A chance that I might die
So I pull you out to hold
Acidic in my arms
And dream of the
Drip drip drip darling
as you slip inside again
To burn and rip my heart in two
Oh my dear,
Now I feel like you,
with just one sip,
We are just the same.
Drink a toast to the dreams that got lost.
Sat in a world of the single minded.
The location of shattered dreams lost.
No longer whispering.
Ghosts of long gone dreams.
They scream as banshees of doom.
Predicting solitary misery.
Quite happy really,
Hell maybe, I am,
I am not.
The music plays and I drown in it.
Swallowing it, hook line and sinker.
This funny woman,
A deep thinker.
An amusing muser.
She lives on the planet of miserable cow.
The couple next door.
Sharing a lunch,
One between two.
In oblivious dreams of true romance.
New romantics perhaps.
As lucky sods and demi-gods,
They sat and munched their lunch.
Listens to the music, listless.
In a place where no-one can dance.
Tapping my foot in time.
Yes, my friend.
I said in time
And the music strokes the air.
The music gets stuck in my auburn hair.
Soul to soul,
She is bare,
My coffee went cold.
Should I maybe be so bold.
To stay and listen to more.
And the music became more.
So much more.
My inspiration on this glorious day.
Passion in full view.
C'est la vie.
(And Alaric ,my friend).
May the devil enjoy my play on words,
Such injustice be kindly greeted.
Would prefer to tickle angels, with my words instead.
Sooner meet the Lord of Love,
When I end up dead!
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
THIS YEAR 2013; IS THE YEAR OF GREAT DEATHS
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya; email@example.com)
This year alone world society has lost more that ten great intellectual and political leaders. They have been lost to death in a deeply wounding manner. Human society has indeed been robbed. It is so sad. Three of the leaders have been Nobel laureates and the rest are leaders of intellectual, moral, political and spiritual stature in their respective capacities.
It began without any stampede in early part of the year some where March when Chinua Achebe, a Nigerian and Francis Davis Imbuga a Kenyan, both succumbed to early deaths caused by stroke. Rendering not only the citizens of world of literature, but also African society as well as global intellectual communities to the most desperate bereavement. Thereafter, within short while of the subsequent days, The Venezuelans president and Marxist intellectual, Hugo Chavez also succumbed to death caused by throat cancer. Even though the Pravda, the daily circulating paper of Russia contended that Chavez was poisoned; it is dismissible as only a Russian stand attributed to ideological hangover, because the Pravda also made similar allegations in relation to deaths of Yasser Arafat, Pablo Neruda and Frantz Omar Fanon, but it did not go a head to establish the factuality of this very allegations.
What we know is that human life is in most cases contested for by the three spiritual forces of fortune, fate and death. As decried William Shakespeare in his Romeo and Juliet. This time round in the year 2013, the angel of death has dominantly reigned with its untimely consequences in form of fangled early death of our leaders. Herman Melville will remain classical in his concern in the Moby Dick about death that; O death! O death! Why are you untimely?
Sadder is when the Al shabab terrorists killed the Ghanaian born global literary citizen Kofi Owonor. Kofi Owonor the poet and author of This world my brother was among the people killed in Nairobi during the terrorist attack at the Westgate mall. Of course he had come to Kenya to celebrate in literary festival organised by a society of publishers in Nairobi. This is an eventuality of some month ago. In September 2013, the Irish born literary Nobel prize poet; Heaney Seamus died. He died prematurely when the world society most needed his service to literature and his literary service to human society.
A couple of some weeks ago again the world loosed two prominent artists, political leaders, human rights crusaders and intellectuals. These are none other than Doris May Lessing and Tabuley Rosseuru. Lessing was a white African living in London, literature Nobel laureate and a feminist as well as an anti apartheid crusader. She is known for her firm stand against communist utopia, championing for the courses against dehumanizing human behaviors like racisms , but mostly Lessing is known for her great literary works like ;the grass is singing, Golden Note book, Dann and Mara as well as so many other works. Whereas Tabuley was an African Congolese , a musician , a businessman , once a husband to Africa’s most beautiful songstress Bellia Belle. He was the composer and the vocalist of African Rumba music. His song Bina Mudan which we in Africa always pronounce as Simbukinya was actually an artistic and cultural bombshell. Tabuley has been a politician, who enjoyed a gubernatorial position of the city of Kinshasa for ten years (two terms).
Most disastrous is the currently trial-some moment for the world community as they all commissarriate the death of Nelson Mandela.Mandella died early decemder 2013 at his home in the Johannesburg city of South Africa. The death of Mandela is an open sore to the society. It is a window for social, political, intellectual and family abyss in Africa. It is indeed a sad moment. But what can we do? For it has already happened. We can only swim in the consolation inherent the wisdom of the Babukusu people found in the western part of Kenya that; Mis-brewed wine behooves volunteer carousers. And truly, I have personally joined the world community to commit a poetical kamikaze in volunteering to drink this sour wine of humanity .May god give us and our leaders in their diverse capacities long live. Amen.
our love was exactly like one days worth of time
you entered my life bright like the sunrise
that spread across a cloudless blue sky
I grew more attached as the hours passed
you headed for home
drifting off in the dimming light of dusk
I began to realize we were no longer us
I'm sitting here now, as the sun falls
with a drink in my hand
I watch a bird fly across the sky, alone
flying in a stretched out zig-zag pattern
I could be that bird, alone but free
to do as I please like nothing matters
because nothing ever does and nothing ever will
the only thing you really have
is your experiences, the thrills
you never forget things you believed to be real
no matter how small they begin to feel
people watching in a coffee shop
is one of the pleasures in life
the bizarre satisfaction you get
when you sit by the window
solving crossword puzzles
or probably sipping your cup of hot latte
immediately tilting your head up
when someone enters
as they pass by your table
what kind of person they are?
what coffee do they drink?
what do they do in the coffee shop?
where were they from?
who are they with?
thoughts by thoughts
questions by questions
curiosity kicks in
eventually clouding your mind
as you nibble your bottom lip
finally finding a solution
to the crosswords
and also your futile thoughts
you give those people in the shop
every single one of them
based on their coffee
I hope you know
that I always manage to burn the popcorn
And that I always have trouble falling asleep because
I'm thinking of how things could be
I hope you know that sometimes I have
a patch of hair that can't be tamed
I hope you know that I sometimes get frustrated
when I'm trying to work on something
and I keep getting interrupted
I hope you know that I don't really drink coffee
but prefer Coca and Tea
I hope you know that I don't eat cereal
and most days I don't eat breakfast at all
I hope you know I can take things to heart
and tend to wear it on my sleeve
I hope you know I'm not all that lean
I hope you know that I sometimes clam up
for no reason at all
I hope you know that despite all of these flaws
I'm still trying my best to be a good person
and I'm still just not good enough
I'm hard to love.
I am stubborn and I never take compliments.
I'll deny you every chance I have just because I'm scared.
I'm mean and indecisive and sometimes I make irrational choices.
I don't like being told what to do & I hate admitting when I'm wrong unless I know I'm wrong.
Sometimes I drink to much sometimes I cuss to much and sometimes I cry too much.
I may be hard to love and a bit cynical sometimes but given the chance...
I will love you harder and stronger than anyone else in the world.
I will show you compassion and a deeper side of me than anyone has seen.
I will be your best friend and lover....
I may be hard to love but when I love I go hard.
tendrils of love
so tightly wound
thick and tuned
communicable these threads
between our hearts
a portal for transmitting
beats between lovers
our personal spiritual connection
A laugh, a smile
a amorous thought
yet free and beaming
In esoteric vibrations
but the love hummed
over them all
the very essence
of our golden rope.
A passionate heat
when eyes closed
like bright sunbeams
a grinning golden heart.
Yet tighter and tighter
these threads wound
out of tune and discordant
anxiety and fear
were the messages
bitter jealousy, mistrust.
The threads went grey.
Then black and dying.
This pain in my chest
this corrupted love the poison.
Oh Juliet! why did our love drink this draught
before our death?
Eyes a hollowed river
heart’s pitch necrotic
Ah! sweet knife here is thy sheath!
This break it bleeds
A hissing scar from true love
Now a sanguine memory
on the ground of my heart.