When my vagina was wet and slippery,
When it drowned your enormous penis like a ship sinking in an ocean,
When it stretched and swallowed all of you,
Did you not complain that I am large and wide?
Did you not suspect me of sleeping with other men behind your back?
When my vagina oozed with thick fluids,
When it beamed and radiated with abundant life and thick undergrowth,
Did you not complain that I am too soggy and bushy?
Look at you now,limping like a pig with abdominal pain,
Look at your raptured penile hole,
Why can’t it stand tall like a soldier and face the fight?
Did you not challenge me to a battle of the underwear?
Let your limping soldier stand up and feast on my roasted vagina,
For two hours I spread my legs over a blazing fire and the smoke sipped in,
The sweet-smelling smoke dried the walls of my vagina and tightened the muscles!
The smoke from ”tuguru” tree did the magic,
Now my thighs are warm and my vaginal hole is so tiny like that of a virgin!
The heat melted the tough hairs and now I am smooth like the buttocks of a three-day old baby,
Wipe your tears and prove your manhood tonight!
A storm of courage will whirl around me,
Its hailstones will hit and wash my fear off,
Self doubt and pity will drip from my chest –
Like termite walls off a drenched log.
On that day,
I will hand you these words of wanton want –
Torn and worn around the edges,
From repetitive shuffling between tongue and throat –
And then, with confidence singing through my pores,
You will hear nothing in them but radiant beauty.
Her vows will be recited before all
As she steps into her new role
Will it now begin, or is this the end
Will he be her master or her friend
Rule the house as a queen
Or never be heard only seen
This merriment is it an illusion
Or will they blend with perfect fusion
Laughing today, will they abandon her later
Or keep their promise to support her forever Continue reading →
The rage notwithstanding
Only to those that can understand
The options are many to all and sundry
The instance to it is shallow at its best
Choice is what can be explored and made worth
But the rage is also ignorant
Being made ‘wise’ from quarter baked information
Petite information is hazardous to mankind
Makes one imagine they are omnipotent
Yet they got it all wrong feeling herculean Continue reading →
Love is neither appreciated in its complete presence
nor complete absence
but rather in its lack of presence
the black hole that no one can see
the empty slot in the shelf full of books
the clean square in a thick layer of dust
where a photograph once was
the empty vase where once stood a dead rose
Isn’t it ironic
that the ones who appreciate love the most
are those who have just lost it?
The sound of war bells ring of horror and death,
A melodious pattern accustomed to grief and death,
The deafening clings echo the painful cry of death,
Drowning the unpleasant hoot of the owl, a messenger of death.
The morning sun rays no longer sparkle the morning dew,
The hovering dark clouds shade a fearful hue,
The village fire’s splinters flicker whenever the cold winds blow,
And the wind’s whistle duets the bell’s dreadful tune. Continue reading →
I would see you there, lurking, smirking, and irking the hell out of me
Stealing glances, taking chances.
Acting like you were beyond my reach,
Because that’s what it is now,
My rage a fully-fledged raging itch!
My heart itched, and so I longed to scratch it,
I couldn’t, wouldn’t.
The scab was so brittle,
A miserly attempt to guard tufts of indifference
My only desire was to kill you
But your intrigue weakened my conviction each time,
So that my breath ceased instead.
I wanted to buy a dress,
To trace the outline of my youth,
But you insisted on a dira,
Saying that bad men would ogle,
All men ogle. Continue reading →