His little wish …

He sat on  the door step 

He was going to wait for Santa

He had sent his letter early

And had been a good boy throughout 

He knew Santa will bring his present

His mom had goaded him 

She wanted to know what he had asked for

The boy wouldn’t spill 

Santa wouldn’t honor if he let out

He anxiously tapped his toes 

Waiting for the reindeers to grace the heavens


She watched him From the window 

Jealous of his ignorance 

She wished for an iota of the joy he had 

As his eyes fixated on the darkening skies

She let him enjoy a little longer 

Before she brought him inside 

He watched the stars twinkle 

Heart pounding at the slightest breeze

He couldn’t wait to tell Santa how good he had been

How strong he had been for mommy 

How he brought her water when she was sick 

And how he had eaten his carrots faithfully 

His excitement was too much 


Five more minutes then she would get him inside

It was getting cold and she knew better 

Besides, she needed to know what he wanted

 or his heart would be broken  

He had waited for Santa all year long 

He had to get his wish!


“Mommy, where is he?”

“He is going to come . He must’ve started with the houses down the street. We should wait inside “

“I want to see Rudolf “

“How about we make cookies for santa instead? “

“Uhm, okay.”


Child, what did you wish for?

It boggled her mind

Sure she got him a present, but he really wanted the one 

She asked for the umpteenth time 

“What did you ask for honey? Is it a new bike”

“No. I love my bike”

“Train set?”

“No. I hate those. It killed that guy on tv”

“What then? You can trust mommy. “

He looked at her and smiled widely 

“You’ll love it mom!”

“C’mon, tell me!”

” I wished for Santa to bring hair back. You cry a lot when you look in the mirror”








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Ooops!

via Discover Challenge: In The Style Of

He walked in furtive steps

In the style of a cat

Feet  mildly grazing the pavement

Afraid to lose his footing

His slit eyes were settled on it

Oh so precious on the chubby index

Its glitter twinkled, beckoning him

Despite the gamble, his hubris led

He wouldn’t defy a challenge

His knuckles twitched in prelibation

So flexed to ease  the tension

The thin eyes followed the finger, up, down…finally

He closed in on the hip rested hand

Almost swiped the beaut

Before a skater knocked him over

In The Style Of

Mama Africa!

 

beauty

She is beautiful

she is beautiful whose face lights like the aurora

she is beautiful whose feet kiss the morning dew

She is beautiful whose eyes dance to the beat of the African drums

she is beautiful whose laughter echoes through the mountains and the valley depths

she is beautiful whose loins have birthed a whole nation

she is beautiful from whose breasts strong men and fierce women have suckled

she is beautiful whose arms have rocked mighty warriors

she is beautiful whose soft skin shines like polished leather

she is beautiful whose songs soothe the deepest wounds

she is beautiful whose voice brings hope at every dawn

she is beautiful…

Here lies my heart

His room was ghoulish 

All white 

Too quite 

With the ever dense smell of disinfectant and latex 

He lay still on his bed 

Unaware of her vex

Soon he will be gone

With all his love for her

Buried 

10 minutes…


She traced the tiny wrinkles around his mouth

He loved to laugh

His laughter awakened wicked love for him

The kind she didn’t know she had

Love that now hurt immensely 

Fate was ruthless 

It struck them hard 

Wasn’t his laughter medicine enough?

8 minutes… 


She placed her head on his chest

She loved to hear his heart beat 

It beat only for her 

But the ticker had a timer 

It was almost up

A world without him was abyssal 

A world that was now seeming 

6 minutes… 


She watched the movement of his eyelids 

Rapid 

Tears filled her eyes

She wished to disappear into his dreams 

Slay whatever monstrosity that tormented him

She gently brushed his brow

Soon he would be at ease 

4 minutes… 



His hand

Deathly cold

Damned all the icy fluids

She restrained herself from ripping off the tubes

They were his anchors to the world of the living

It wasn’t time yet 

2 minutes…


Tears flowing down her cheecks 

She picked up the pen 

This was her last  letter 

It would float with him into his new world 

Tether her to him to for all eternity 

She began 

“Here lies my heart… “


O minutes… 

She pulled the plug.




The ‘shujaa’ within 

They came to us 

Shed our blood

Captured our brothers

Named us anew to wash off our “savage” nature 

We joined forces 

We rebelled 

We struggled to be free…


All that, we have consigned to oblivion


Our spirit of oneness is clutching at straws

Sharing and caring is becoming outward 

We are forced to know our neighbors now

At least ten

We sing unity, within ethnic bounds

We pledge patriotism, and piss at the economy 

We declare democracy, with the same breath, deny outcomes 


We believe in hopelessness now 

We no longer sing for our motherland 

We no longer believe in our flag

It’s colors mean nothing!

Our leaders 

They play perilous games

Wash their hands with our blood, to eat platefuls of our flesh 


We are dead to calamities now 

Hunger doesn’t move us 

It strums eerie melodies with the ribs of forgotten children 

Sears up the breasts of nursing mothers 

Widens it’s jaws to claim the lives of incapacitated fathers 

We turn our eyes away 

Ignorance is bliss


We are snug with corruption now

We look on

Tongues stuck to the roofs of our mouths 

As they funnel funds through their chimneys 

Then wring out humanity from the impecunious

Empty pockets beget ruthless fighters, no?


We celebrate murderers now

We break their chains with our bare hands

Place them on pedestals so high they block out our sunshine 

We condemn ourselves to live under their shadow

They become our only sun 

We,  the sunflowers


Change is possible 


We need to arise, now

We need to open our eyes 

We need to look beyond our ethnic differences, hold hands like we once did 

We need to get rid it empty minds and empty hearts

Then work toward a  better land 


We need to rouse the shujaa within! 


‘When we build, let us think that we build for ever ‘ ~ John Ruskin.











Butterflies don’t inspire her 

She is more about the caterpillar 

No one understands the little bug

Ugly on  the outside, hoping to burst out the beauty on it’s wings

Float free wherever the wind directs 

If it can outrun the shoe 


Birds don’t inspire her

She is more about the bat 

The little blood sucker that haunts the night 

Owns the dark 

Fiendish Sonics echoing through the silence 

Understood only  by it’s kind 



Clear skies  don’t inspire her

She is more about the raging oceans

The ferocity of the waves, whipping unfortunate rocks 

Obliterating all in it’s way 

The mystery of the vast watery grave 

Swishing bones and metal around 

Floating the wails of those it has claimed