The dust is settled
Bicycle treads are long gone
the church steeple is vanished
my eyes caress the horizon
Forget me not
The warmth of your breath
the sweetness of your kiss
the scent of your perfume
Mere trickles of my blackened dreams
Forget me not
The sun is asleep
the swallows are gone
your memory evaporates
my mind hardly imagines
Forget me not
Your touch I miss
your laughter I desire
your prayers I beseech
your music I prefer
Forget me not
The skies are gloom
the fears are horses
Deep longings I harbor
cold hearts I lodge
Forget me not
Yet clasp the memory of my frame
Cherish the rusk of my voice
Treasure the scent of my brow
resurrect the twang of my guitar
Forget me not
Relieve the warmth of my chest
Glorify the strength of my ego
Pierce the blackness of forgetfulness
Pen down the thoughts I provoke
Forget me not
Magnify the picture of our youth
Prepare the seat of my preference
Wipe away the tears of loneliness
Water the roses of romance
Forget me not
Copyright ©2010 Daniel Ronald Ruhweza
Sunday, February 28, 2010
I HEAR YOU
The tortoise in uncovered
His shell is beyond him
I hear you
The lie is uncovered
No more blackmail Mr. Politician
I hear you
The earthworm is writhing
His hideout is flooded
I hear you
The early bird watches
Yet hurts it not
I hear you
The rabbit is un-burrowed
Her soft body waits
I hear you
The Wolf looks on
His breathe strong and warm
I hear you
But can Lamb and Lion
Best friends be?
I hear you
Will viper and mongoose
Peacefully dwell?
I hear you
Your voice is meticulous
The lights are on
I hear you
Your words are clear
Your actions are plain
I hear you
But can the caged bird real freedom enjoy?
I hear you
Can this fantasy utopia truly be?
I hear you
Or is it avatar and avatar true?
I hear you
I see your mind I feel your heart
I hear you
The sun is out
And the jury long before
I hear you
Can’t concur with you
Least I believe
I hear you
Yet am frightened as hell
Or of hell indeed
I hear you
The dagger of Brutus
Will be vicious I know
I hear you
I hear you
I hear you…
Copyright ©2010 Daniel Ronald Ruhweza
His shell is beyond him
I hear you
The lie is uncovered
No more blackmail Mr. Politician
I hear you
The earthworm is writhing
His hideout is flooded
I hear you
The early bird watches
Yet hurts it not
I hear you
The rabbit is un-burrowed
Her soft body waits
I hear you
The Wolf looks on
His breathe strong and warm
I hear you
But can Lamb and Lion
Best friends be?
I hear you
Will viper and mongoose
Peacefully dwell?
I hear you
Your voice is meticulous
The lights are on
I hear you
Your words are clear
Your actions are plain
I hear you
But can the caged bird real freedom enjoy?
I hear you
Can this fantasy utopia truly be?
I hear you
Or is it avatar and avatar true?
I hear you
I see your mind I feel your heart
I hear you
The sun is out
And the jury long before
I hear you
Can’t concur with you
Least I believe
I hear you
Yet am frightened as hell
Or of hell indeed
I hear you
The dagger of Brutus
Will be vicious I know
I hear you
I hear you
I hear you…
Copyright ©2010 Daniel Ronald Ruhweza
THE CONCUBINE
Her love is overpowering
Never ceasing
Like a flooding
Her voice is tantalizing
Teasing and mesmerizing
Like a blinding
Her touch is prying
Intensely stroking
Like a meowing
Her gaze is infiltrating
Passionately biting
Never quitting
Her smell is enticing
So cajoling
Like a coaxing
This dream is soothing
So amazing
Am awaking…
Copyright ©2010 Daniel Ronald Ruhweza
Never ceasing
Like a flooding
Her voice is tantalizing
Teasing and mesmerizing
Like a blinding
Her touch is prying
Intensely stroking
Like a meowing
Her gaze is infiltrating
Passionately biting
Never quitting
Her smell is enticing
So cajoling
Like a coaxing
This dream is soothing
So amazing
Am awaking…
Copyright ©2010 Daniel Ronald Ruhweza
Friday, February 26, 2010
THE MISTRESS
Am in love with another woman
Mistress they call her
I prefer to call her Kusoma
she calls herself success
for years on end I longed to see her
with endless letters did I beseech her
But she eluded me for years
she knew my adolescent passions would pass
I was not ready
then she appeared
Beautiful and mesmerizing
Awesome unfathomable
I was like any hot blooded man struck
And what a passionate romance we began
But Kusoma extremely jealous
And boy is she out rightly possessive-
She sends her girlfriends to spy on me
Ensuring that I love no other
So deadlines are set for me to show my unwavering allegiance
But a man has got to be a man
My other passions should be met
Come sit-coms, football and photography
Sneak in face book and yahoo messenger
Not forgetting that the official wife’s kisanja
But Kusoma is resilient she will hear none of it
She is going to rant when she finds me writing this
‘’caress my pages constantly’’-she demands,
I would like to see you breathe over my old and tattered manuscripts
She wants me to look her deep into her eyes, into her long black well-plaited hair- endless lines of text and prose
Sometimes interesting, sometimes smelling like that hot ink-jet printer in my research room
It doesn’t matter that I will doze off in my chair
She knows I will be with her after all
She continues to set deadlines upon which I shall paint her beautiful features, and write imaginary words
And my desk is full of love letters written by many of Kusoma’s former lovers – Shakespeare, Durant, Brownlie, Okot p’bitek, the list is endless all in the name of being studious
The official wife is of no help either
From across the seas she seems to be happy that the mujja takes more and more of my time
Yet she and her daughters complain that they miss me
And I don’t know what to say
Even my reading wall is decorated with success cards - from Amooti my mother - of all people, how dare she encourage such infidelity?
Kusoma cares less
It don’t bother her
Maybe her henchmen will mention a word once in a while –in encouragement
It’s either her or her – period!
She has taken me away - far away cold land where rain wakes up to rain and snow smiles for ages on end
Where bitter summers kiss autumn leaves goodbye
And make me rush for yet another cup of caffeine
In this mess I stay with my mistress
I love her - I love her not.
I need her but I wish I could avoid her nagging - there is no running away
Kusoma demands that I write her endless booklets of love letters
Spanning pages upon pages of epistemology, theoretical frameworks and theses
She will allow me very little sleep
Enough to let my eyelids rest
So that I should think – and think some more
Develop my ideas
Talk
Of her alone
She is me and I am her
She is my driving force - I think about her all the time
And all my friends ask about is how we two are going on
The psalmist cautions that men like me lack understanding, but how come the world looks at me with awe and praise?
So here I remain day
A love- hate relationship
I speak about her with passion and praise
But why I suffer though? I wonder-
Then there is the concubine…
But that is another story…
Copyright ©2010 Daniel Ronald Ruhweza
Mistress they call her
I prefer to call her Kusoma
she calls herself success
for years on end I longed to see her
with endless letters did I beseech her
But she eluded me for years
she knew my adolescent passions would pass
then she appeared
Beautiful and mesmerizing
Awesome unfathomable
I was like any hot blooded man struck
And what a passionate romance we began
But Kusoma extremely jealous
And boy is she out rightly possessive-
She sends her girlfriends to spy on me
Ensuring that I love no other
So deadlines are set for me to show my unwavering allegiance
But a man has got to be a man
My other passions should be met
Come sit-coms, football and photography
Sneak in face book and yahoo messenger
Not forgetting that the official wife’s kisanja
But Kusoma is resilient she will hear none of it
She is going to rant when she finds me writing this
‘’caress my pages constantly’’-she demands,
I would like to see you breathe over my old and tattered manuscripts
She wants me to look her deep into her eyes, into her long black well-plaited hair- endless lines of text and prose
Sometimes interesting, sometimes smelling like that hot ink-jet printer in my research room
It doesn’t matter that I will doze off in my chair
She knows I will be with her after all
She continues to set deadlines upon which I shall paint her beautiful features, and write imaginary words
And my desk is full of love letters written by many of Kusoma’s former lovers – Shakespeare, Durant, Brownlie, Okot p’bitek, the list is endless all in the name of being studious
The official wife is of no help either
From across the seas she seems to be happy that the mujja takes more and more of my time
Yet she and her daughters complain that they miss me
And I don’t know what to say
Even my reading wall is decorated with success cards - from Amooti my mother - of all people, how dare she encourage such infidelity?
Kusoma cares less
It don’t bother her
Maybe her henchmen will mention a word once in a while –in encouragement
It’s either her or her – period!
She has taken me away - far away cold land where rain wakes up to rain and snow smiles for ages on end
Where bitter summers kiss autumn leaves goodbye
And make me rush for yet another cup of caffeine
In this mess I stay with my mistress
I love her - I love her not.
I need her but I wish I could avoid her nagging - there is no running away
Kusoma demands that I write her endless booklets of love letters
Spanning pages upon pages of epistemology, theoretical frameworks and theses
She will allow me very little sleep
Enough to let my eyelids rest
So that I should think – and think some more
Develop my ideas
Talk
Of her alone
She is me and I am her
She is my driving force - I think about her all the time
And all my friends ask about is how we two are going on
The psalmist cautions that men like me lack understanding, but how come the world looks at me with awe and praise?
So here I remain day
A love- hate relationship
I speak about her with passion and praise
But why I suffer though? I wonder-
Then there is the concubine…
But that is another story…
Copyright ©2010 Daniel Ronald Ruhweza
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