Rhythmic healing

It was me calling, in the middle of the night
Tired of running, I wanted instead, to fight
Because I was aching, from a wound
A painful cut of betrayal, decades old
Threatening to rip my insides apart

That night, I chose to call you
Because you are aloof to my pain
Which strangely makes you strong
Stronger than I have dared to be
Power over my weakness

You understood; without a word spoken
that, I didn't want love, not that night
I didn't want care, at least not then
I needed healing, and I found it there
In the pounding inside your chest
Your heart rhythmically consoling mine

Rocking me in your tight embrace
Quiet like the snow, yet so warm
Tranquility descended on me
A rare peace washed over me

I hoped that is what forgiveness feels like.

Sleepless

Most times one has a good night's sleep,
Other times one get's so worked up
That all one can do is turn and toss
Clench and un-clench, curse and curse.

Often times it can be narrowed down
To one's poor judgement of character...
So poor that it haunts them
Even in the deep of sleep.

To be wanted

For someone to fix her in a gaze
Is all she wanted.

For that someone to find
Irresistible in her form
Breathtaking in her lips
The milky way in her eyes
A treasure worth digging
A blizzard worth braving

Enough was being said
But she wanted to feel it
In the beat of his heart
As he leaned into her
Arrested…
by her femininity so unique
He would be unable to peel himself
off of her…

He would want her unashamedly,
Unashamed indeed, for he would know
With a knowledge so intimate
That what stands in his presence
Is royal, if not goddess
He would be painfully aware
Of every second lost
Painful indeed, for he would know
With a knowledge so profound
That what is in his possession
Is rare, if not divine.

Slowly…
It dawns on her
This is romantic
Only when it doesn’t happen.

I AM YOU

I look at you and I want to cry

I look at you and I want to embrace you


I look at you and I wonder why

I look at you and I wonder how

I look at you...And it's me I see.


I see you and I shudder

I see you and my mind is in a fit

I see you and I want to hurt you

I see you..and I hate that I like what I see

I see you, and it's me I see.


I think of you and my heart aches

I think of you, and tears overpower me

I think of you and my strength fails me

I think of you and I want to die

I think of you...And it's me I see.


I don't cry much but I cry over you

I think much...

It's you I'm thinking about

I love much, but I never love you

I care much, but I don't care for you.

I laugh much, but I don't laugh with you.

I wish to embrace you though, but I can't.

What I don't understand is my hate for you

Yet...I AM YOU.

By Gatavi

Despite the Improbability

Do you still want to go to Turkana?

Now more than ever, with me perhaps?

Do you still think I have a nice smile?

That I am crazy?

Do you still think I am good at romancing?

That I should be a romance coach?

That I should help people get love or laid?

Because I am a master seducer!

Do you still love them, the letters?

Do I still get your heart-racing?

Do you still think I am a genius?

Would they still mush-you-out?

Would you still find it such a lovely thing, the surprise tea?

Would it still be utterly sweet?

Would you still be speechless?

Am I still your lovie?

Am I still your friend?

Am I just a “Msichana” to you now?

Will we have a next time?

So we can take more blurry photos?

So we can call the “Motorbyke” guy from the gorge?

My photography… is it still absolutely gorgeous? Wow still?

Is the waterfall still spectacular? 

Should we publish how you and I were lost in the woods

and how Spectacular it was to find the waterfall?

Was ours the shortest story ever told?

Not intent on arriving

I am a traveler

I have tickets to everywhere

I know that isn’t fair

And if you think this is hot air

Allow me to share;

Manuscripts are my airfare!

A book in hand

Is worth a ticket around the world

Many that one could afford

With a yearning to understand

The wisdom of the gods

You are no longer blind

When I reads I paint

Pictures of emotions felt

By peoples different

In hearts, of lands distant

Pains and laughs otherwise faint

Becomes suddenly so acute

Every time I read

I taste wine and rare bread

From the bakeries of the dead

And somehow breed

With their attitudes and creeds

Gradually I am freed

On scribbled tablets

I find dark alleys

And numerous tunnels

Leading to elongated railways

Some, wide and common pathways

Most, narrow and troubled waterways

Whenever I read

I find and plant a seed

That painfully grows to feed

My innermost desires and needs

Thus, I ascend

That is why I read.

"The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page." -- St. Augustine

Our motorcycle diaries

Now that it's no longer awkward and

Though I haven’t the slightest clue

There is something I would like to do

Surprise you.

I want to give you a random call

After being silent all summer long

Ask you to a ball

Read drinks and football

At a local mall…

Catch up on the latest of Al gore

Pretend not to have an agenda at all

While I quietly scheme a plot

To steal a motorbike

And get you to come with me on a boat

On a tour, of a small crater lake

Then hike to the mountaintop

To catch the best view at sunset

Pop a bottle of chardonnay white

And just celebrate

Naivasha is a place of magic

Humming to nature’s music

Appealing to the artistic

Peaceful on the hammock

Everything is frolicsome

Encourages me to party some

There Paula (Kahumbu) got engaged

I was humbled

Martin got martini-ed

Grace disgraced and

We will be healed.

Come with me to Naivasha

wait for it... on a motorbike?

Was it not you who wanted to know if I ride...

Am I right?

Walk away or Love anyway?

Truth is:

He has been here, done this; twice before.
There will be no holy matrimony.
He doesn’t need my hand in marriage.
He will never be a father to another.
Mwiba wa kujidunga hauambiwi pole.

Anguish is :

Being alone and lonely in his house so homely,
Falling head over heels for a man guarded to the teeth.
Leaving his wife, albeit a little too late.
To know I will cry every night he is out of sight,
To know without a doubt, no other will ever have my heart.

Courage is:

To love him anyway,
To know that time is a healer.
To live in the moment,
To chase my dreams.

Idiocy is:

To hope things will get better.
To think he will love me eternally.
If I was smart I would walk away,
I am still here so I guess I am not.