Insomnia

Sometimes, there's really nothing to say. Nothing to write. Just these eyes, open and thinking.

what is right

there is a void
deep
that can’t be filled
there is hunger
fierce
that can’t be satisfied
thirst that lingers
though water abounds

to do what is right
is to give up what you love

the sick eats not
for the law says to fast
there are no pools to hide in
when the sun unleashes its fury
a tough skin you must possess
repelling the weather
hot, dry, cold or wet

too many daniels lurking
these laws must be obeyed
hearts have been captured
chained by dos and don’ts
lives stiffened
in hope for that which is eternal

daily i die
in good deeds
watching all i love
live

and leave

love

this is what love is:

house on fire

water quenching it

Remembering Maya Angelou...

the earth rejoiced at the advent of wonder
her cry made path for glory unknown
embedded in splendour and striking like a thunder
success fully blown

her fame cut across the universe healing
and mending hearts broken,  restoring lost peace
showing how words can rekindle  feeling
teaching  love to those who hatred alone kiss

i hear this voice from a distant hill
survived of life so harsh, refusing to be smothered
carried on against tribe, race or creed , only to heal
souls tortured, souls torn apart, souls smouldered

the voice grows dim today, her last song, she sings
and now, i know too, why the caged bird sings

Adakaego

Life slipped out of her; a breathless, stiff form, like leaf broken. But in that last second, she toured the cities of her heinous life. She visited, once more, the shadows she inhabited, that lived in her also. And then there was that mansion, where she traced her ruin to the semen mapped bed. She had slept with the cursed one; one whose darning lay in the juice of experienced loins. She knew, but the price was too charming. A hundred nights would not earn her such money. But it was her lifestyle. Even though her name was Adakaego.