Category: writing

Stellar

June 25th, 2019

You asked me at dawn, “Why is it that you smile more when you are miles away from me?”

I started, “um…I…”

You laughed, the easy laugh that we both know comes from trying to mask a pain.

I paused and so did you, for me it was to think of a lie, but for you, it was because you were on your third cigarette this morning. I could envision the smoke, smell it, miles away.

It was one of those mornings.

You missed me too much to contain your pain.

“Marry me,” you said and then laughed…another easy laugh.

“It’s good to hear from you,” I said and the beating of my heart rivaled the numbness of my fingers.

I was reaching for my cup of coffee when you said “stellar, is what you are…” and suddenly we both knew what that meant.
Conversations

June 22nd, 2019

It’s our day.

I place my head on your lap, look up into your eyes and you smile.

It’s our day, just you and I.

We talk of the little things that matter…like how it sucks that we are great together and I am not keen on saying “yes” on “walking down the aisle” to you.

We talk of the little things that matter, like how when you are with me, you know there ain’t no other heaven on earth.

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You call me sunshine, I call you rain.

You call me dawn, I call you dusk.

You call me bloom, I call you soon…it’s our love.

We do well together, you and I.

And when I ask about her, on why you saw the need to be with her, you say it started with a conversation. You said “hi,” and she said “hi, how are you?”

You started talking about the color of her hair and she moved closer to you.

I cannot bring myself to say the words, for I fear that I’ll bleed even in my words,

I’ve cried over this for ten days, but here I am, seeing you and wondering just how you would find comfort in another…how easy it is for you to take another in your arms because she smiled at you…what was it? I ask.

You say “I don’t know…it was a mistake.”

But, love, it started with a conversation…how could “hi” be a mistake, how could “I like you,” be a mistake, how could “come lay with me” be a mistake…all these conversations.

It’s why you and I are miles apart,

My heart bleeds at the thought of you in the arms of another,

But just like my words, you’ll never hear none of it.
Love Notes

June 19th, 2019

I wrote you a poem,

It felt right at dawn, now that’s it’s almost noon,

And I haven’t heard from you,

I feel like it’s doomed.

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I wrote you a poem,

Here I lie, counting the hours until you call,

It may be soon or noon,

I never know with you.

I wrote you a poem,

And I haven’t heard from you,

I feel like it’s doomed.
Dark Cocoa

June 11th, 2019

You say I collect people like I do my words,

The ones that I need are simple words they roll off my tongue like ‘yes’

The ones I do not need are words found on legal documents,

The tiny script that says “terms and conditions” that I glaze over just to sign.

You say I collect feelings like I do my breath

Gasping as I drown in my worries,

Smiling as I soak up joy and euphoria.

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It’s how uncertain I am, a mystery, an unknown…and you light up another cigarette.

You walk across the room, open the window, sit right next to it and look back at me.

“What hurts me is how I never really know you…See, with most people I can definitely say that I can predict their next moves as surely as I can their life, but with you, nothing.”

You cross your legs.

Look back at me and attempt a smile.

I want to tell you what you are, “Dark Cocoa” but like every word in my soul, I am unable to set them free.
Dance

June 9th, 2019

My Mother said she knew my feet were meant for motion when I hit the ground,

Like clouds, soft cotton buds on the earth, I glide

She also said that she cringed with every step,

The world would consume my light, she feared this would happen,

Like clouds, soft cotton buds on the earth, I glide

I told her it would never happen.

I would not let the world break me.

She would look at me…her eyes oceans of the pain I’d endure.

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Like clouds, soft cotton buds on the earth, I glide

Oh, but then I met you,

Son of the soil, fruit of the sun, seed of life

In your arms I soared and fell on my back, I have no recollection of where my feet are…

I wish I could glide on this,

Blink you away,

Drench every memory of you in tears, drink you up and spit you out!

But, my heart seems to relish this feeling, there is something about this anger that smells like ultimate power,

It rises from the depths of my heart to my skin,

Look closely how it glows, an ember of power…

I wish I could glide on this feeling, dance away, like clouds, soft cotton buds on the earth.
You and I: A short story

June 8th, 2019

If you want immortality, marry a Writer.

If you do not want immortality, but rather a taste of memory, a lingering of the unforgettable, then date a Writer and here’s the thing, be certain of what you want before you pursue a Writer. We are vicious with our words. We’ll cast you as a stool, or worse off a wretched withered broom leaning against an old lady’s abandoned hut and you’ll never know it.

If we really want to call you out, then we’ll cast you as a loser in our book and describe all your mannerisms down to the color of your nails.

If you want immortality, marry a Writer but this story is not about happy ever after, it may seem so, but before you start throwing a party and inviting your friends over, be sure that you want to listen to this…so I met this guy!

Phil.

We’d been in the same circles but never interacted that much, we just made simple conversation. He struck me as suave. The guy who wore fitting jeans, always rocked a mean pair of Converse (If you know me, you know I love a guy in Converse… I’d marry a guy in Converse) and gave tight hugs. Yes! The hugs that you felt all the way into your bones, the kind that jolted your feelings into some kind of euphoria and you’d never let go, besides my Mom told me that when people who are close to you hug you, don’t be the first to let go, it may be the last time you feel their heartbeat. She also provided a caution to that, but we’re talking about Phil, where was I? Yes, Phil gives bone melting hugs. I’m not so great at opening up to people, because I come in waves and seasons. Sometimes my tide of sharing is just sufficient to get me what I want and other times, it’s non-existent to the point that people conclude I’m a snob.

Phil would always give me hugs.

I just published this short story on Smashwords. I’m so happy that I am writing again, so get the whole story by downloading it here.

Or click on the image on the side bar to download a copy.
Pain

June 6th, 2019

What hurts you?

It’s the way you ask this as though it were a confessional, a moment between two souls, not people.

So, I turn and smile and you shake your head then shrug your shoulders.

“You always smile when you are angry, or when you want to break down and cry, why is that?”

“Reflex action,” I say and we laugh.

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It’s almost seven o’clock and you should be leaving but I know you do not want to, because you inch closer, soaking in every word I say, hanging by a thread of hope…that maybe just maybe, I may choose to let you see me.

“What hurts you?”

I almost say “the little unexpected things,” but we both know it’s the “failed expectations” that hurt the most, so I sip my coffee, fold my legs and you say “you should try yoga.”

I say “I have commitment issues, so no yoga for me,” and you laugh because it’s you who said I run even when no one is chasing me.

What do I know of pain? Enough.

So, we sit and talk about books and in the spaces in between our thoughts, I know that your pain is akin to mine, but miles away from the depth of it.
Book Tag|New York Times by the Book Tag

June 4th, 2019
I love book tags! I came across this interesting tag on Katie’s blog and can I just add that I’m loving her blog and the fact that she’s a RavenClaw!

What book is on your nightstand right now?

Peace Like a River by Leif Enger

What is the last truly great book you read?
- David Mogo, God Hunter by Suyi Davies Okungbowa
If you could meet any author, dead or alive- who would it be? What would you ask them?
- I’d love to meet Grace Ogot! If there’s any Female Writer who was as fierce in her writing as fulfilling her aspirations, then she’s the one I’d love to have coffee with and title the talk “My Guest needs no introduction…”
I would ask her what kept her going at a time when Women were not upheld or deemed worthy of expressing themselves through literature and fiction. I’d also ask about her style inspiration!

What books might we be surprised to see on your shelves?
- Chronicles of Narnia- did I mention that I’m a fan? Everyone should read the books!
How do you organize your personal library?
- The books that impress me so much are kept in storage containers and labeled “Books for Aurora” with the hope that someone in my generation would read and enjoy them as much as I did.
What book and/or series have you always meant to read but haven’t gotten around to yet? Anything you feel embarrassed to never have read?
- The Beautiful Creatures Series by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl
What book did you feel like you were supposed to like but didn’t?
- Persuasion by Jane Austen
What kind of stories are you drawn to? What do you avoid?
- I love literary fiction- and for some weird reason, most people complain that the books that win major literary awards are boring, but to me they are just what I need.
- I’m not a huge Sci-Fi fan but once in a while, a title proves me wrong and I accept it.
If you could require the president to read one book what would it be?
- The Devil on the Cross by Ngugi wa Thiongo’
What do you plan to read next?
- Under the Banner of Heaven by Jon Krakauer
June: Updates on life and writing

June 3rd, 2019

June’s here! May has been good to me and I can say there’s more for me to learn at work and also with writing. I am looking forward to traveling a bit this month and opening up to possibilities of opportunities beyond my comfort zone.

Looking back on the books I read in May, I’d say that the most interesting one I read and loved was David Mogo, God Hunter by Suyi Davies Okungbowa and the heart wrenching one’s got to be His Widow for One Year by John Irving.

I was in Kisumu this weekend, right in time to collect my earrings purchased from Kilimall and they are oh so lovely!

I am looking forward to reading “Peace Like a River” by Leif Enger this week and I started the first chapter this morning because I was eager to get a head start before getting to work.

On writing: I have written 0 words the past two weeks and I am okay with that. I’ll have to revamp my writing schedule to make sure that I don’t lose touch of how I’ve been writing but there’s this nagging idea in my head for a romance novel and my heart’s not in it at the moment, because it’s too mushy and feels a bit all over the place.

All in all, I’m glad to have made it half way through the year and hoping to make many more memories. Have a great week!
Choose Me: Short story

May 29th, 2019

She walked to the door. Apartment 325B.

Her mind was set on redemption. The brown door beckoned her knuckles. She knocked thrice and waited. She thought of time and what she would say. She raised her hand again as if to knock when she noticed the door-bell. She pressed it once.

Feelings that come back are feelings that never left. How could she still yearn for him after this time? She was hoping that her friend did not invite him. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder then waited.

If he was dating someone, she would accept it.

If the person he was dating was prettier than her, then she would have to deal with it. Her eyes scanned the other apartments on that floor. It was a beautiful complex. She could have loved to live in such a place. She snapped out of it when she heard, “hey! You came! It’s been a minute, right? Get in! Get in! Heey…people, meet my best of bestest friends Alice!”

She was choked in a tight hug, before she heard, “did you bring it? Okay, cool…thanks, the drinks are on your right, go get something to drink and lunch will be ready in a few, sawa? I mean, just chill, I will be with you in like a minute, sawa sawa. Okay, and thanks for coming! Now, go mingle!”

Her friend disappeared before she could say ‘hello’. She looked at her rush into the kitchen and laughed. Barbz never sat still. She talked faster than she breathed at times. Her eyes went round the room. She could acknowledge twenty people. She poured herself a glass of juice then headed out for the balcony. She was glad he wasn’t here. She didn’t see him and that came as a great relief. The room was full of laughter and alcohol that exchanged hands.

“Still running away from the crowd I see.”

That voice haunted her. She put down her glass on the wooden stool beside her and turned to her right. Her mind hoped her heart would react better.

She reached out for the railing as she saw those eyes. She expected him to look worse. He looked better than her. She looked down afraid of what her eyes revealed. He took three steps towards her then stopped. She counted each step by the number of tiles.

Excerpt from Choose Me, a short story published on Smashwords in January 17, 2014.