Twilight

Don't tell me why the sun deflowered the moon and the rain the noon Don't tell me why the dew caressed the leaves and the spring the green But tell me why your day kisses my night and my night your day

Dear Twin sister, By the time you read this, I would be dead and gone. I know you will shed tears of agony over my wasted life. I know you will ask why I did it. why why why? Why? If you look at me, then at yourself, you will find the why. Look beyond ceaseless times and seasons, you will see the why wrapped in fated doom. Together, we grew in one womb. We swam in the same blood. We were destined to be one, a mystery of creation. And when the time came for us to finally see the world, you went first and I followed. We were like a song that would never go wrong. But remember, I go awfully wrong. At the mother breast, it was always a healthy competition. You drank, I drank too. I cried, you cried too. We were dressed like one. We were fed like one. Oh yes, we were loved as one. And then, you began to toddle round the house and I did not. With time, you were walking and running and yet I could not. Four years and the truth dawned. I was born a cripple! We are one, yet...

Stuck in the gut of a guzzling lawn Ghostly memories strummed bland string Crushed by spiced terror, caged by sassy spring I sank darkly like a netted pawn Rippling stench of hell rendered harsh songs Their tales nothing soft and sweet could bring Fleeing from fear and struck by sour fling There echoed my fate like galling gong But swiftly, there arose a flawless flute It sang; summoning lost wits to a final fight; Panting and punching, faith put to flight Shadowy fear, so viperous and now so mute Stuck once in the gut of a guzzling rust I ruffled and bite until victory here burst

In large numbers we trooped, communally fleeing another round of genocide about to burst at the Eastern part of the country. We were all free Congolese but now, we have been torn from our homes and hope to become refugees in our ownland. For two days, we had journeyed, daubed with dust and weariness. Thousands of little children, now disrobed of innocence, lugged on their battered heads mountains of tattered mats, heavy bags and other bits and pieces. Reduced to mere skeletons, this unquenchable fire had forced them all into swift maturity. Unlike their mates in other parts of the world birthed into the tenderness and greenness of supple spring, they were born into gushing guns and vile violence. Most of us were women: married, widow, cripple, old and pregnant. And we bore the greatest chunk of this burden on our cracked backs. With bitterness, we reaped the works of male monsters, whose selfish war drove us away from our security and rest. We were mothers, scattered in pursuit of what...

May 2: Dear diary, something strange happened today while I was having my siesta. I felt someone kissed me deeply on the lips but when I opened my eyes, no one was there. I still don’t believe I was dreaming ‘cos it felt so real and …heavenly. The lips tasted like iced candy and the tongue like strawberry. One moment, it was there in colorful cluster, the next, it was gone. I shut my eyes dreamily hoping it would come back…. May 3: You won’t believe it but it happened again. This time around, it was in the bathroom. I was having my shower when I felt the lips again. Consciously, I surrendered my lips, responding to its candied sweetness. Almost immediately, unseen hands began to explore my overflowing nudeness. I moaned quietly when magical fingers tasted, tickled and thrilled my fallowed nipples. The searing tongue moved downward, past every beckoning distraction and settled on the centre of my fertile sea. I cried loudly as flaming tongue devoured my depth. When the tongue stopped it...

Twisting and twirling in the belly of this strain You move gaily to graceful refrain Flipping and flapping in the midnight lair You sweeten now like sugary clair. Fanning and stirring, this tender flair flourishes Passion blazes, mellowing echoes without straying stitches. Flipping and flapping in the midnight lair This strain you love and sure will blare.

They fell from gangling slips and muffled dreams. They fell from worled ways that could not stay. They too fell and fell but no one was there to tell.

Right now, I don't feel like writing. My spirit is down. Months after serving the nation, I am still here without a job and it is killing me. For how long Will this smile go wrong. For how long will i wait for the pretty sun? I hope i won't wait forever.

My name is Beauty and in two days, I would be 200 years old. Actually I am a tree As an old tree, my years have witnessed series of events played by man and fate. I was here when cursed with hatred, ambition and fear, Hitler sought to put the world in chain. Oh yes, I was here when tribal war crushed the backbone of a nation. I saw it all, the pain, the blood and the betrayal. And at such times, I had to wonder why man refused to be like the trees, peaceful and contented? Beauty, what a name. It was given to me by someone I loved and who I wish could have lived forever. Unfortunately, he died a week ago and I would forever mourn his mortality. So many years ago, something happened that I will never forget. That morning, I woke not only to the sweet caress of the early morning dew but also to the piercing cry of an infant. It could not be more than a day old and there it was helplessly naked in the frosty cold. Moved to tears, I shielded the precious thing with the best of me. It was ca...

She was my neighbour but also my fantasy. A true beauty, her great sexy body was always a distraction to the big boy downstairs. Her ample bursts always found me wanting and times without number, I had imagined floating sweetly on them. Unfortunately for me, she was married. Her husband was a busy but successful businessman. Business was his romance. But then, he was someone you could easily mistake for a wrestler. He was exactly like the Macho Man. This woman loved it each time I worship her body with my glowing stares and she dressed in manners that made this inevitable. She would come to me with those great beauties nearly spilling out of their prisons and we would talk for hours about nothing. She would twist, she would turn, she would shake and I would burn. The temptation was rather overwhelming. It nearly twisted my brain. It continued until one day. I was in my flat relishing in solitude when my phone rang. It was my woman neighbour. She wanted me to come over. I went to her fl...

lingering kisses on honeyed lips love tastes better than sugary moon. rippling riddles on lustful tongue love seasons like the noon. sizzling duet on moist plain love engulfs with fire like hell's room.