your woman: myqueen. A response to the poem 'Betrothed then Betrayed By Oyoo Mboya'

This poem is a response to a poem I read by Oyoo Mboya I will post the original first then the response.

ORIGINAL:

BETROTHED then BETRAYED.

Tomorrow at dusk
She'll be in your arms
Her face behind a mask
Read the pattern on her palms.
Tomorrow at dawn
The priest will declare her your wife
Uncover the veil, beneath the smile
there's a frown
You are not what she wants in life.
Tomorrow at noon
You'll feed from the same plate
A (g)olden honeymoon
That seals your fate.
Brother,
Before she became your bride
I plucked her petals, still tender
In the journey to womanhood, I was
her guide.
Her body is scented with my stench
Kiss her and you'll taste my lips
Feed and wait to hear her belch
There's a name in her hiss.
Look deep into the fires of her eyes
The blaze that burns to blind
Do you ever care to ask why
She's one of a kind?
Dust her bosom for my fingerprints
The contours I caressed to break
The stains on her thighs
Are of pregnancies we longed to
make.
She'll cook, just like I taught her
In bed, my name will feature
I am her eternal star
Her past, present and future.

®Oyoo Mboya.

RESPONSE:

Photo|Courtesy

This are but tales you tell to satisfy your hungry past
You made a woman from a girl
that much I agree
But you remain a boy
Your words betray your ploy

Of the stains she's cleansed
Washed by the product of my loins
The hissing was quelled; she has just graduated
with a doctorate of the diploma you so graciously accorded her
I should thank you
for all the callous caresses you politely introduced her to
I could never have asked for an easier time
You are indeed godsent

I admit,
It may take a while to forget you
Its never easy to erase the opposite holotype of everything you are
Meticulous
Astute
Sturdy
Direct
She was a woman when she met me
You made her a woman

She is a queen under my care
An epitome of decorum
A royal diadem of peace
She is patience
Wrapped in royalty radiating love
She is my shield from pain
In her I find much strength

She is a queen
Executive director of the home
Symbol of my kingdom
and flesh of the flesh of my fledglings
Your one-time woman is my lifetime queen
It will take more than memoirs of your lips on hers
More than dusting prints of her thighs and bosom
It will take more than the past
for her to be annulled from this golden throne


Pablo Neruda writes I am not jealous/of what came before me I echo his sentiments.

#100daysof blogging #Day9

train journeys

I love the sitting arrangement

I get to stare directly at a complete stranger

At least until another stranger stands in line of sight

Staring daggers

Sending chills and shivers

To a person I barely recognize

Oh yes It does

I see them squirm in their seats

And, albeit momentarily, well in my heart it sits

It is enjoyable

Seeking yourself in others

Making up stories of who they may be

And where they could be off to so early

The preacher that shouts more than they preach

Maybe they are compensating for what they cant do at home

A part of a sermon that call for assertion

Or simply a tool of the trade

Of the lady that pouts

Has been pouting it is three days in a row

What can keep one sulking that long

There are stubborn passengers at the front

Or is it back

They would rather squeeze at the entrance

Than find their way to the center

Crammed like screws and wires in a socket

No one remembers the pickpockets

Yet it’s all I thought of from the onset

A congregation of different folk

All with the intent to get to town

All looking outside but no one seeing things the same

A dog lies by the side of the tracks

Blank stares

A drunken man trying to make his way out of a ditch

Blank stares

A couple tearing each other apart

BLANK STARES!

Few grimaces, winces and guffaws though

Little elicits reaction

Even fewer warrant it judging by looks

It is a trained look

Harnessed and perfected over time

Sour grapes and lime

That is the life of constantly looking for the next dime

I try

I try very hard to look at the life that goes on for others

To look at the world from my 200 meter squared frame

In a different way

I force myself to look at something and make a positive

I see a makeshift tin shack

I will cost you 5 shillings = 0.06 dollars

To shower here

Right beside the tracks it must be thrilling

In my naiveté I want to be allowed to think it is

It is easy to get lost in all that is bad

Easy to find where to cast blame

It is easy to find alternate ways to get to the city

But despite the strong concoction of human scents

The lifeless stares that are shared

And the momentary lapse of superpowers over my opposite seating neighbor

I am loving the train journeys by the day

*and I hope the Matatu Strikes continue 

I am just kidding

Sunday: when buildings and streets are at play

The clouds were just teasing me. "Take this photo they said"

The story of a one and another one. One one was red the other one was green. These two ones met at a junction and tried to outwit each other. Can you guess which one won?

The guard at the end was fast asleep.

Three stumps, I was thinking three blind mice.

I would love to do a series on the murals and calligraphy on the Nairobi walls. Very creative artists out there.

"We are on a straight line I know what you think you see, but that is simply perspective!"

"Straight! You see clearly now?"

See how they run. See how they run. They just stood there and watched though.

We look better at certain angles on others not quite. Come closer let us show you.

The other half of me.

On the other end lies the unknown.

"By my time you should be home young man!"

"Is this really my good side?"

"I feel like you are peeking at me"

The white dome in the city.

"Aaaah, I am more relaxed from here, shoot away"

Taj Mal by night on bus. I love this photo.

I think on Sunday Nairobi comes out to play
Its so much fun to look at the buildings and streets
On an idle Sunday when the streets are not filled with busy individuals
You can almost see the buildings move about in their relaxation
Moving to the beats that only they can hear
Casting their shadow in architectural ways
They do something
Something different
I still haven't got a handle on what it is yet 
But
I think Nairobi comes out to play.

Sixes and Sevens

Seventh year this

Okay six years and some months

It has been long

One break up in between then got back to each other

You are not much nowadays

You still possess the occasional buzz

The tingling sensation that fades in less than an hour

But the strangest thing is, it is your boredom that keeps me glued to you

Strange huh?

You are not interesting at least not to me.

We are so long into this it no longer matters who else we see on the side

The intimacy has faded into a repetitive normalcy

An uncertain sense of “really! That?”

It is actually a marvel watching you reinvent and try to please more

Loving and being loved by more

I enjoy watching you being picked up, and they get younger with every generation

Sillier with every proclamation

Wilder with every show casing

You would go out with anyone wouldn’t you?

It is a good thing you never bother with commitment

Yet seven years is a long time

Okay Six years and few months

I still love you Facebook

You bore me, but I Love You.

scared; irked; pleased

I will start by saying I am scared

You scare me don’t you see

I have sat here waiting for you to come as you said

However, you are not here

It is our first meet is it not.

I have worn my floral print flowing dress

I have a ribbon brighter than the sun

I am sticking out from the sullen browns and creams that dot this park

I am alone

They have children you see

The children keep coming up to me

Offering me sweets and trinkets

In addition, little treasures from the ground

Mostly earthworms

And I am scared

For not only do they think I am alone

Their parents think I am alone too

Me

In my welcoming floral, print dress

And my hair ribbon brighter than the sun

I have been fanning myself with a hat

For more than an hour at that

Now you irk me

For you are not here! and I look like a peculiarity staring at the babies

I am worried you will not show

I do not know what you make of this

Is it a waste of your time?

I thought you were interested

It was even your idea

AND HERE I AM ALONE

LOOKING LIKE…

Ah! I see you

Oh khaki pants and picnic basket

I will crumple this paper now

You please me!