They say she was molded from Angel wings,
that her face was brushed with star dust.
That she was bathed in a meteor shower,
And alloyed in an asteroid crust.
There was an eclipse each time she blinked
and when she cleared her throat an earthquake.
They say her heart was so big it could empty the Atlantic ocean,
that her smile was silver marinated with pure gold.
She caused solar flares when she flirted, global warming when she farted...  
Her presence, osmium-strong, held so much weight,
that all marveled at her, as sapphires were her eyes
and her mystic gaze held the aurora in their depths.
Her feet were cosmic, galaxies born with each step,
Her mind a black hole of infinite wisdom,
some thought her alien, others titan,
for she clutched the universe in her palms...
and her handshake was a bridge to uncharted realms.
Her hair flowed in dollops of molten amber and liquid silk,
and her hug they say was a gentle breeze across the desert sands.

Before we die...
I want to know
That each moment meant something.
That our days weren't spent
Worrying about how clean the house was
Or how much money we needed
To buy a home, nice car or fancy clothes.
I want to know
That each day we gave it our all
Not to our jobs or reputations...
But to learning and laughing
With one another.
To experience a joy
That only exists when we do life together.
I want to know
That every second
We spent together
We experienced the true meaning of life..
And knew it.
For every blink, smile and breath,
We lived our lives truly, authentically
And the way it's always meant to be lived
With love.
A love that transcends the physical world
And follows us through infinite lifetimes.
Because life can't be lived without love.
And love is not love
Without you.

All I did was write, until the pen accepted me.
Until the pain escaped from me, or became a part of me.
All I did was dive into the ocean of ink,
Where emotions sail, and dreams interlink.

All I did was write until the labyrinth made sense,
Until I imploded within and was no longer tense.
Until I figured out where every letter would go,
Shooting for the stars, this has always been my bow.

All I did was scribble down as I was always told.
They said between my ******* is a worth more than gold.
All I did was believe in the power of my mind,
That the words I share can touch and bind.

All I did was create, like an artist's hand,
Giving life to my musings, a world to understand,
All I did was illuminate with the written word,
Attempting to bring warmth to the hearts of those unheard.

I was shattered, these words kept me whole,
All I did was let my pen trace the map of my soul.

This war started long ago with your great grandfather,
The difference being he was fighting to stay,
For the same reason you're fighting to leave...
He was fighting for this home which no longer is,
For the gods you now call pagan, for the culture you deem fake,
And the minerals, now heavy jewels around your neck.

This war started long before anyone thought it would,
When the iron snake started wriggling from the coast,
Spreading its poison across the land, carrying modernity with it,
When they killed the protesters of Tsavo and called them man-eaters.

This war started when Kinjikitile failed to save us from the fire spitting sticks,
When nyungu ya mawe fell, when the imperialist found the trade routes.

This war started long ago when your ancestors developed a taste for salt,
And were told to give away a few of your kin to have it...

This war started with that book that you believe in,
the one that speaks about sticks turning into snakes and people walking on water.

This war started when your great grand Uncle believed and collaborated,
even long before that, when the kabaka agreed to split this land.

This war started when we accepted the names the colonialist gave,
to our lakes, our rivers, our springs and then to our children...

Yet here you are pumped up like this war has just begun...

~
Dead ahead
The target is always
On a similar horizon
It's about surviving
Every blasted thought
More than eliminating all threats
When they strike
They form castellated holes
That network new fears
To long existing trauma
Careening off the deep seams of life
In intervals of jagged breath
I become part of the debris
A genuine tourist attraction
The size of a crater
Even after nothing else
Remains of my former self
~

as out of character as
it may have seemed;
i still cried
       like a ******* child

Oh how it must itch-
The lady whose body is
Covered in hard plaster.
Finely carved face of alabaster.

The miracle maiden!
The matriarch with
The eternal smile
Could never feed
A hungry child

The dress she wears is a
Skin tight suit.

Shield atop shield.
Even in the heat.
her sweet baby ****
Burning beneath
Layers upon layers.

Prayers upon prayers
Would only save her.